‘That’s the governor general’s intention once we reach Amsterdam.’ He snorted. ‘Assuming we make it that far.’
Instinctively, Arent sought out the governor general’s ferry. It was a few strokes ahead of them, his family sheltered beneath a curtained canopy. A breeze pushed at the gauzy material, revealing Lia’s head in her mother’s lap. The governor general sat a little apart.
‘The Gentlemen 17 will never let that happen,’ argued Arent, recalling the esteem in which the rulers of the United East India Company held Sammy. ‘You’re too valuable.’
‘The governor general sails to take a seat among them. He believes he can convince the rest.’
Their ferry passed between two ships. Sailors were hanging from the rigging, firing bawdy jokes at one other across the gap. Somebody was pissing over the side, the yellow torrent narrowly missing them.
‘Why is this happening, Sammy?’ demanded Arent. ‘You recovered The Folly, as you were asked. They held a banquet in your honour. How is it a day later you walked into the governor general’s office a hero and were dragged out in chains?’
‘I’ve thought on it and thought on it, but I don’t know,’ he said despairingly. ‘He demanded I confess, but when I told him I didn’t know what I was confessing to, he flew into a rage and had me tossed into the dungeon until I reconsidered. That’s why I’m begging you to leave me be.’
‘Sammy –’
‘Something I did during this case brought his wrath upon me, and without knowing what it is, I can’t hope to protect you from it,’ interrupted Sammy. ‘But I swear, once he’s finished with me, our good works will count for nothing and our standing in the United East India Company will be undone. I’m poison to you, Arent Hayes. My conduct was reckless and arrogant, and for that I’m being punished. I won’t compound my failure by dragging you into ruin.’ Leaning forward, he stared at Arent fiercely. ‘Go back to Batavia, let me save your life for once.’
‘I took your coin and made my promise to keep you out of harm’s way,’ responded Arent. ‘I’ve got eight months to stop you from becoming a crow’s banquet, and I mean to see it done.’
Shaking his head, Sammy fell into a defeated silence, his shoulders slumping.
Their rowboat approached the creaking expanse of the Saardam, its hull rising out of the water like an enormous wooden wall. Only ten months had passed since she left Amsterdam, but she was already ancient, her green and red paint flaked, the timbers warped from her passage through the freezing Atlantic into the steamy tropics.
That something so large could float was a feat of engineering akin to devilry, and Arent felt immediately diminished in its presence. He stretched out a hand and dragged his fingertips along the coarse planks. There was a dull vibration in the wood. He tried to imagine what was on the other side: the warren of decks and staircases, the stray beams of sunlight piercing the gloom. A ship this size would require hundreds of souls to sail her and would carry that many passengers again. They were all in danger. Even chained, even beaten and maltreated, Sammy was the only one who could help them.
Arent conveyed this thought as eloquently as he was able. ‘Somebody’s trying to sink this boat, and I swim like a bag of rocks. Any chance you can pull your head out of your arse and do something about it?’
Sammy grinned at him. ‘You could lead an army over a cliff with that tongue,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Did your search of the leper’s body turn anything up?’
Arent withdrew a piece of hemp he’d hacked off a sack on the docks. Wrapped inside was the charm the leper had been holding when Arent killed him. It was too charred to make out any detail.
Sammy leant forward, eyeing it intently. ‘It was snapped in half,’ he said. ‘You can make out the jagged edges still.’
He pondered it a moment, then swivelled towards Guard Captain Drecht. His voice was filled with authority despite the chains. ‘Have you ever served upon an Indiaman?’
Drecht squinted at him, as if the question were a dark cave he didn’t want to enter.
‘I have,’ he answered, at last.
‘What’s the fastest way to sink one?’
Drecht raised a bushy blond eyebrow, then nodded towards Arent. ‘Get your mate to ram his fist through the hull.’
‘I’m serious, Guard Captain,’ said Sammy.
‘Why?’ he asked suspiciously. ‘Not a pleasant thing you’re going to, but I’ll not let you drag the governor general into hell with you.’
‘My future is in Arent’s hands, which means I’ll fear for it no longer,’ responded Sammy. ‘However, a threat’s been made against this ship. I’d like to ensure it comes to nothing.’
Drecht looked past Sammy to Arent. ‘Is that truly his intent, Lieutenant? On your honour.’
Arent nodded, causing Drecht to stare at the ships surrounding them. He frowned, adjusting the bandolier slung over his shoulder, the copper flasks rattling.
‘Put a spark to the gunpowder store,’ he said, after a long pause. ‘That’s how I’d do it.’
‘Who keeps watch on the gunpowder store?’
‘A constable behind a barred door,’ responded Drecht.
‘Arent, I need you to find out who has access to that room and any grievances our constable may hold,’ said Sammy.
Arent was encouraged to hear the eagerness in his friend’s voice. For the most part, they investigated thefts and murders, crimes long committed and easily understood. It was like arriving at the theatre after the performance had ended and being asked to work out the story using pieces of discarded script and the props left on stage. But here was a crime not yet undertaken; a chance to save lives rather than avenge them. Here, at last, was a case worthy of Sammy’s talents. Hopefully, it would be enough to distract him until Arent secured his freedom.
‘You’ll need to get permission from Captain Crauwels,’ interrupted Drecht, flicking a drop of seawater off his eyelash. ‘Only his good word will get you inside. Not that his good words are easy to come by.’
‘Then start there,’ Sammy told Arent. ‘Once you’ve spoken to the constable, see if you can identify the leper. I’m treating him as a victim.’
‘Victim?’ scoffed Drecht. ‘He was the one raining curses down on us.’
‘How? His tongue had been cut out. All he really did was give us something to stare at while another voice issued the threat. We have no idea whether the leper shared its malice or not, though I’m certain he didn’t climb those crates by himself or ignite his own robes. His hands didn’t move from his sides until he hurled himself off the crates, and we all saw his panic as the flames consumed him. He didn’t know what was going to happen to him, which makes his death a murder – and a heinous one at that.’ A small spider was scurrying along Sammy’s chains and he made a bridge of his hand, letting it crawl on to the bench. ‘That’s why Arent’s going to find the name of the leper, then talk to any friends he had and piece together his final weeks. From those fragments, perhaps we’ll understand how he came to be on those crates, whose voice we heard and why it harbours such hate for those aboard the Saardam.’