"Captain Lewrie," Twigg said, right-snappishly, when it appeared that he'd have to wait 'til Epiphany for Lewrie to make up his mind. "I believe there are matters of the greatest import which I, Mister Sadler, and Sir Hugo need to discuss with you. Mistress Lewrie, might I implore your kind indulgence? Half an hour, perhaps but a single hour, at the utmost, I assure you, dear lady." For Caroline, Twigg came over all cooing and gracious, delivering an over-formal bow with a hand on his chest.
"Oh, do what you wish with him!" Caroline snapped, bestowing on Lewrie a very frosty glare, heaving a dramatic sigh of resignation, and narrowing her eyes. She spun on her heels to leave, stiffly bound up the stairs.
Ouch! Lewrie thought, for officers and Midshipmen off both warships had trooped back into the dining room for a last pocketful from the leftovers, for later, or to take a last celebratory glass of spirits down to "heel-taps," and had witnessed that little contretemps.
"Mister Adair, I will see you and the rest back aboard ship, sir… gentlemen," he said to dismiss his people, then made awkward good-byes to those off HMS Orpheus, who followed his own out the doors, some much worse for wear, "short-tacking" for the piers "three sheets to the wind." Thankfully, Langlie's parents had already departed for their lodgings, for a lie-down, and an easing of corsets or shoes. "Go with your mother, children," Lewrie bade his offspring. "Navy work."
"I've my own rooms at the Black Spread Eagle," Twigg said, once they were relatively alone. "My coach is waiting. Let us all repair there. With any luck at all, our own business shall be done well before dark, so Mister Sadler may coach to Brighton and speak with Commander Langlie tomorrow, after their first night of connubial bliss and a very late breakfast, hmm?" he suggested with a leer.
"Just how bad is it?" Lewrie had to ask, sounding as if musing more on his wife's chilly departure statement, instead.
"The Beaumans, and their entourage, are landed in London, and are hot after your immediate arrest, sir," Twigg bluntly told him, but with a rarely heard tinge of sympathy in his voice. "We must put our heads together to determine the best course of action. Let us go."
Once they were in Twigg's lodgings, a bottle of brandy made an immediate appearance, and a vital contribution towards calmness for every set of frazzled nerves, Lewrie's most especially. They seated themselves on the hard settees and half-sprung chairs near the tiny fireplace, with the bottle and extra glasses on a side-table dragged up between them.
"Now, Mister Sadler," Twigg began, "what does your employer say of this development?"
"It was expected, Mister Twigg," Sadler said with a grim nod of his head. "Mister MacDougall was certain that they would not be satisfied with a ruling from Jamaican courts, and must pursue the sentence of death in absentia in King's Bench, here, to obtain what passes for justice. Mister MacDougall, of course, has already made strenuous effort to deter the Beaumans' case from appearing on this Law Term's docket, hence delaying any need for Captain Lewrie to be taken up and put in prison. You know of the Law Terms, sirs?"
"No," from Lewrie; an abrupt nod from Twigg; a certain shifty look from Sir Hugo; and, from Burgess Chiswick, who had joined them at the last second, a cocked head and a negative shake.
"There are four official Law Terms each calendar year, sirs," Mr. Sadler solemnly explained, "when Court Sessions are held. There is Hilary Term, which begins in January… Easter Term, which is sat just after Easter, and is self-explanatory. We are now in the Trinity Term, which began on Whitsunday, and which will continue to try cases 'til late autumn, and, thankfully for the good Captain here, is full."
"Well, right then!" Burgess exclaimed, as if it was all over.
"Lastly, there is Michaelmas Term, which begins in October, and does not conclude 'til Christmas, sirs," Sadler continued in the same tones, ignoring the enthusiastic interruption. "Trinity Term is also the time when the Lord Justices remove themselves to the major cities of each shire to conduct trials of those imprisoned for major crimes beyond the scope of local magistrates."
"So, the Lord Justices are now away?" Lewrie puzzled. "In that case, who sits in London while they're gone? And, who could doom me to hanging on the strength of the Beaumans' lying packet?"
"Magistrates, mostly, sir," Sadler told him, shifting about to face him. "Though, at least one or two Lord Justices who do not care for protracted stays in the countryside remain."
"And, do the Beaumans lay their case before one of them, Alan here gets taken up and slung into gaol 'til…?" Burgess asked.
"One of the remaining Lord Justices would be perfectly capable of accepting the transcript and verdict of the Jamaica court," Sadler informed him, turning in his chair again, "and pronouncing sentence, Mister Chiswick."
"Upholding a travesty of justice?" Sir Hugo all but yelped.
"That is why my employer, Mister MacDougall, was so eager to lay hands on a copy of the transcript, Sir Hugo," Sadler said with a prim pride, though having to swivel to face yet another interlocutor, "as well as receiving an affidavit from the Jamaican barrister who represented Captain Lewrie during that sham of a trial. An affidavit which was obtained by Mister James Peel of the Foreign Office at Kingston, and the deposition performed by Lord Balcarres's… the island's Governor-General's… personal attorney, one Mister Johnathon Porter, Esquire, a most respected member of the bar, and formerly King's Counsel from Temple Bar, before accepting Lord Balcarres's offer of employment overseas. Trust me, gentlemen," Sadler said, spreading his hands, and letting a wee smile cross his solemn, at-work features. "Every Lord Justice in the land has dealt with Mister Porter, and hold him in the highest esteem.
"It does not harm our cause, either," Sadler continued, turning just a big smug, "that both Mister Peel and Mister Porter had the deposition transcribed to papers bearing the Governor-General's seal and letterhead, copies of which Mister MacDougall already has in hand, and stands ready to lay them before any Lord Justice who may adjudge the matter. Such imprint, sirs, while not bearing Lord Balcarres's signature, will go a long way towards lending a taint of official, though tacit, displeasure with the conduct of the Jamaica trial."
"And what did this local barrister have t'say for himself 'bout the matter?" Burgess pressed.
"Why, that he was hired on by the Court, dredged up from taking a pint or two of mild in a tavern close by, Mister Chiswick," Sadler said with what almost approached a sly snicker, "given less than ten minutes to familiarise himself with the charges and the identity of his absent client, and was unable to present much beyond apro forma defence. Poor Mister Pruett, a new-come to the Jamaica bar, about as unschooled as they come, sirs! Poor in abilities, I should suspect, as well as pelf, and only paid his honorarium months later, after persistent dunning of the local court system for his meagre thirty pounds.
"And, that miserly honorarium, gentlemen," Sadler said with an air of gleeful triumph, "was finally paid by Mister Hugh Beauman 's local attorney, in part, at least, since the local Justices didn't deem Pruett's services worth even such a low amount!"
"Why, that's… that's…!" Lewrie spluttered, jerking erect from his dismal slump in a hard chair so quick that he spilled a bit of brandy on his waist-coat.
"Evidence of a criminal collusion 'twixt prosecuting barrister and defence barrister so vile that poor Mister Pruett could be brought up on charges, and slung into prison himself," Sadler crowed. "Loss of membership in the bar, at the very least. Both of them, really… Pruett, and Beauman's barrister, Mister George Cotton."