Part 22 (1/2)
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO.
For secrets are edged tools, And must be kept from children and from fools.
-John Dryden, Sir Martin Mar-All (1667)
”LET US ALL GO OUTSIDE FOR A WHILE,” SAID ROSSI. ”DR. OWENS will attend to Miss Dormin.” He gently ushered the patterer out of sight of her body.
”I want her, Rossi,” said Dunne. ”At least I can see that she's not shoveled like a dog into a pauper's hole at the Sandhills. Or buried in a lime pit.” He seized the captain's shoulder. ”And Owens-or any other surgeon-can't have her to rip open on the anatomizing table.”
Rossi shrugged him off. ”You shall have her. Intact. Never fear.” He turned as the governor called him into another room. ”Wait here for me.”
The patterer did as he was told. All other members of the party had drifted off, shaken and mindful of Darling's stern admonition to hold their tongues about the day's events.
The barracks hallway was silent. Only the armed soldier standing warily at one end and the fading smell of burnt gunpowder in the air testified to the fact that anything out of the ordinary had happened.
After some time, the governor bustled back into the corridor, alone. He gave Dunne a grim glance, nodded curtly and marched off past the watchful soldier, who stiffened to attention.
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IN THE ROOM, Darling had been sharp with Rossi.
”Does he know?”
”Dunne?”
”Of course, Dunne!”
”If you mean what I think you do, Excellency, then the answer is that he doesn't. I'm sure of it.”
”Doesn't he wonder where the money comes from, why he was given the status of a Special, why I haven't taken away his ticket-even had him flogged-for his disrespect?”
”It seems not.”
”The question now is, can he be trusted to keep his mouth shut about this business-in particular, the business of all our private affairs? Not that we have anything nefarious to hide.”
The captain nodded sagely.
”However.” The governor waved a manicured hand. ”It is better for all if a veil is drawn over some events in the past. I think that is already understood by the gentlemen who were here today-and you can reinforce the concept, I'm sure. All except Dunne. He can be silenced on two fronts, I believe. First, tell him he can have the girl's body in exchange for silence.”
Rossi did not think it wise to mention that he had already given away that advantage, so he simply nodded. ”And the second front, sir?”
”Tell him the darkness in his own past. See how he likes the idea of people knowing his his family secrets!” family secrets!”
”Do you think that wise?”
”I do.” The governor rose. ”You can keep me out of it, of course.”
Of course, thought Rossi. That's how Darling keeps his hands so clean. But he said nothing, just bowed slightly.
”Oh, and Rossi.” Darling paused. ”See if you can track down the man from the 45th who talked out of turn.”
With that he was gone. He missed Rossi's small smile.
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CAPTAIN ROSSI BECKONED the patterer into the side room from which the governor had just stormed. He motioned him to a chair and sat down opposite him.
”You've made some bad enemies here today.”
”It had to be done.” Dunne shrugged and looked bleakly ahead, with the thousand-mile stare of the dying or the hopelessly distressed. I gave her the chance to escape, you know. Yesterday, when we talked. I made it clear to her that the game was up. I asked her here today, but she didn't have to come. There are plenty of s.h.i.+ps a pretty girl could have slipped away on. The others-even you-think I lured her here to her final exposure. But I think she really did just get sick and tired of the whole sorry business. Perhaps she simply came to the end of her madness and anger. She genuinely did regret killing Elsie and Muller, I'm sure.” He rubbed a hand wearily across his face. ”It doesn't matter now, anyway. There are too many unhappy memories here. I'm going home. To England.”
Rossi sighed. ”Ah, well. Strangely enough, that's what the-what I want to talk to you about. The truth is that you can't go home, lad.”
The words penetrated Dunne's mind after a moment. ”Why the devil not?”
”Because,” replied Rossi, ”home doesn't want you.”
”What does that mean?”
”Consider,” said the captain gently, ”most of us here are embarra.s.sments to England. I know I I am, with my funny ways and accent, and the baggage I carry professionally. But am, with my funny ways and accent, and the baggage I carry professionally. But you you-you are particularly embarra.s.sing.”
”Why, in G.o.d's name?”
Rossi paused. ”Because, lad, enough people believe you are the king's nephew.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE.
Curses are like young chickens, they always come home to roost.
-Robert Southey, The Curse of Kehama (1810)
NICODEMUS DUNNE GAPED. THEN HE LAUGHED. ”THE KING'S nephew! Jesus, Captain, am I hearing you right?”
Rossi nodded. ”Yes. A b.a.s.t.a.r.d, certainly, but still his nephew. Come to that, if we lived in earlier, less enlightened times, and if somehow you were legitimized and acknowledged-and if certain other people died-why, you'd be the heir to the throne!”
Dunne shook his head, like a man mazed by too much rum. ”This is madness, man. That means my father would be one of the royal dukes. Which one?”