Fic - Hornblower: Buried Truth Part Nine

[charleygirl]

Title: Buried Truth Part Nine
Author: charleygirl
Rating: PG
Type: Gen, action/adventure, romance, AU
Characters Involved/Pairing: Hornblower, Bush, Kennedy, Styles, Hobbs, Cotard
Summary: What to do now?
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters except Anna and her family and Isobel and co - they belong to CSF/A&E. I just play with them from time to time.
Author's Note: This part is rather talky, and there's only a brief appearance from Bush. I'm being deliberately vague about the location of the prison, as I'm not sure exactly where there would have been one in Portsmouth at that time. The dockyard's a huge place, so I'm assuming that there would have been a place of detention somewhere. Just put it down to the fact that this is all happening in an alternative universe. :)

Previous chapters: Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Seven  Part Eight

BURIED TRUTH

 

PART NINE

 

 

Styles watched in horror as Bush was led away by the marines.

 

“They can’t do that! Ain’t right…it ain’t right!”

 

“It is incredible,” Cotard muttered, shaking his head. “I would never ‘ave thought that Bush of all men would be a spy. He ‘as ‘ad us all fooled, it would seem.”

 

“No ‘e ain’t, sir,” Styles said defensively. The colonel raised an eyebrow. “Mr Bush ain’t no spy.”

 

“Of course he’s not, Styles,” said Kennedy, overhearing the conversation. He left Lady Isobel’s side and crossed over to them. A general murmuring still ran round the quayside, people still looking after the little group in red uniforms who marched their prisoner away towards the dockyard. “Someone has done this, incriminated Mr Bush – or at least made a suspect of him. There’s a plot – first the betrayal of the mission, and now this…it’s too much of a coincidence.”

 

“What do we do, sir?” Styles asked. Carlotta was still clinging to his arm, watching them all with big frightened eyes. He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

 

“I want you to find the Hotspur – see if she’s still in port. Tell Mr Hornblower what has happened.”

 

“Aye aye, sir. And what’ll you be doing?”

 

“My best to unravel this mess,” Kennedy replied with a slight smile, though there was no humour in it. “You’d better go now, and quickly. Colonel, can I rely on you to see Lady Isobel to her husband’s residence?”

 

Cotard bowed elegantly. “You may count on me.”

 

“You are going?” Carlotta asked, looking up as Styles as the others moved away.

 

“I’m sorry, miss, I ‘ave to go. Got to do me duty. I can’t let them take Mr Bush like that, mebbe try to ‘ang ‘im for something ‘e didn’t do,” Styles said.

 

“Do you think that they would?”

 

Styles sighed, trying not to imagine what might happen. He’d seen enough so-called naval justice in his time. “Let’s just say that not all men are as fair as Mr Bush, miss. But you’ll be all right – you’ll be goin’ ‘ome now.”

 

“Home. Yes, I suppose I must call it home,” said Carlotta softly, her dark gaze dropping to the ground. Beyond her Styles could see Lady Isobel, talking with Kennedy and Cotard. For a moment she looked across at Styles and their eyes met – a tiny little smile touched her lips, a smile that turned Styles’s blood cold for a second before she turned away again. Styles was not a man to be easily frightened, but he was superstitious. Matthews would have laughed at him, but just for that brief moment Styles could have sworn he was looking at something devilish. Something…evil. Carlotta tugged at his sleeve. “Could I not go with you?” she asked hopefully.

 

She looked very appealing, almost childlike. He wouldn’t have called her particularly pretty, but she awakened something he would have described as a chivalrous instinct in Styles, had he known the name for it. Maybe it was because he had saved her life when the ship was sinking that she looked to him for protection, and he found himself wanting to provide it. “I’m sorry, miss,” he said again, “I can’t take yer on board ship. Mr Bush would ‘ave me guts for garters - ” He broke off, remembering where Bush was at that moment. “Anyhow, ain’t a good idea. Captain don’t like women on board.”

 

Carlotta nodded, but he could see her lip trembling. Styles chucked her under the chin, bringing her great brown eyes to his. “Hey,” he said, “’Ow about you tell me where ‘er ladyship’s ‘ouse is and I’ll come and see yer when I can?”

 

She smiled, and opened her mouth to reply, but Lady Isobel’s voice came out of it instead.

 

“Carlotta!”

 

The maid jumped. Her ladyship had come over to them without either of them noticing. Despite her still bedraggled appearance, there was an imperious tilt to her head that Styles couldn’t recall seeing before.

 

“Come, Carlotta,” she said sharply,” The colonel is waiting to conduct us home. I wish to waste no more time.”  She turned and swept off down the quay. Carlotta had no choice but to follow.

 

Styles watched them heading for the gate, where a carriage, no doubt found by Kennedy, was waiting. Just before she followed her mistress inside, Carlotta turned and looked straight at Styles. The look was scared, and imploring, almost desperate. He took a step forward, but it was too late to catch them – the steps had been folded up and the coachman whipped up his horses.

 

As he turned to start on his own mission, Styles was nagged with doubt that he had done the right thing by letting her go.

 

 

***

 

 

“I had a reason for coming here,” Hobbs announced. He withdrew a folded paper from his coat pocket. Hornblower knew immediately what it must be – and, guessing from the way her eyes lit up with curiosity, so did Anna.

 

“Another message from beyond the grave?” she asked.

 

The gunner shook his head. “It seems someone’s been following my movements. This was pushed under the door of my lodgings not half an hour ago.”

 

“They’re becoming bolder,” Hornblower observed, taking the paper and unfolding it, “to risk being seen in such a way.”

 

“I doubt if this person took the message themselves,” said Anna. To Hornblower’s annoyance, she was looking over his shoulder, anxious to see contents. He heard a sharp intake of breath from behind as he smoothed out the sheet – when he glanced down at it he realised why.

 

On the paper was a crude drawing of a gallows, and there was a body – dressed in a rough approximation of a naval officer’s uniform – hanging from the noose. Beneath it were printed the words:

 

THE QUIET MAN

 

“Oh, dear God,” said Anna.

 

“This is a warning,” Hornblower said without thinking. How could this person know of Pellew’s intentions? Were they watching constantly, did they know of what transpired during his meeting with the admiral earlier that day?

 

“Why should it be a warning?” Anna asked, pouncing on his thoughtless words. He cursed himself. “A threat, surely? It’s quite plain that William is to be the next target. And he will be utterly unaware of the fact - ”

 

“If they’ve been watching me, then they must be aware that Mr Bush is not with the Hotspur,” said Hobbs. “It’s a taunt – maybe they know where he is, and intend to get to him before any of us can warn him.”

 

“Mr Hornblower said it was a warning. A warning for him?” Anna turned to Hornblower. “Do you know something you are not telling us, Horatio?”

 

Hornblower opened his mouth to reply, even though was unsure what to say. Pellew had told him that Anna herself was under suspicion. To tell her –

 

He was about to speak when a thunderous knocking started up on the front door. Trying to hide his relief at the interruption, he listened to Maria heading down the hall – as she opened the door there were urgent voices, Maria’s cry of alarm as someone pushed past her and into house. After a moment the kitchen door flew open and a familiar figure stood there, rumpled and untidy, his face dirty and a blood-stained bandage wound round his head but immediately recognisable.

 

“Horatio!” Kennedy exclaimed, relief settling on his features. “I sent Styles to the Hotspur but they said you’d gone ashore - I thought I’d never find you.”

 

“Horry, do you know this man?” Maria asked, looking at Archie, plainly confused. “He forced his way in, and I didn’t know whether to - ”

 

“It’s all right, Mrs Hornblower, this man is an old friend of the captain’s,” said Hobbs before Hornblower could speak. The gunner was looking at the newcomer with undisguised interest. “Good day to you, Mr Kennedy. You’re looking very well for a man who should be six feet under.”

 

Kennedy in turn regarded Hobbs with incredulity. “The devil take it…you keep strange company these days, Horatio.”

 

“It’s a long story,” said Hornblower. He could see his wife still hovering uncertainly in the doorway. “It’s quite all right, Maria. Mr Hobbs is right – this man is indeed a friend. You may leave us – there is nothing to concern yourself about.”

 

Reluctantly, she went. Kennedy watched her, one eyebrow raised. “Not quite what I expected, Horatio,” he observed.

 

“This is no time for discussing my marriage, Archie. We have much to tell you. Hobbs brought us important news - ”

 

“As do I.” Kennedy looked gravely at them all. “William has been arrested in Pellew’s name.”

 

 

***

 

 

Bush lay on the rough bunk and stared at the ceiling.

 

It was uncomfortably warm in the cell, reminding him less than pleasantly of his recent incarceration in France. He tried to make sense of what had happened, but was making little headway. The sergeant of marines had not elaborated on his initial charge, and Bush had not asked. They simply took him to the prison, removed him of any possessions which were not permitted, entered his details in the register and locked him up here. The sound of the key in the lock had a terrible finality to it, just as it had in Kingston, when he had first heard it through a haze of pain and near delirium.

 

Prison. Again. Twice in less than two years. Until he had joined the Renown and become embroiled in the mutiny against poor, mad Captain Sawyer, Bush had never seen the inside of a prison cell. He had always done his duty and kept in line – an unimaginative man, perhaps, but hopefully a reliable and dependable one. Now, however, there was little chance of him ever progressing further in the service. After this, his career would be over. To be accused twice of wrongdoing in so short a space of time…

 

He knocked a fist against the wall, cursing himself for a fool once again. Though he knew of his own innocence, there was clearly evidence somewhere against him that had prompted Pellew to make the arrest. Bush could not think where such evidence might have come from, or who could have had such a grudge against him as to make allegations of so serious a nature. It was all quite incredible.

 

The key scraped in the lock, startling him. He had just sat up when the captain in charge entered the cell, taking off his hat as he ducked under the door frame.

 

“Mr Bush,” he said, and Bush climbed to his feet, irrationally expecting the worst. “I have had word from the admiral. He wishes to question you first thing tomorrow morning.”

 

“Very well.” Bush glanced down at his stained and rumpled civilian clothes. “May I make one request?”

 

 

 

***

 

 

Anna stared at the sheet of paper, at the sketch of the gallows. Behind her she had been vaguely aware of Hornblower and Hobbs telling Kennedy about the mystery around the notes on Sawyer’s tomb, as he in turn told them what had transpired in France. Although relieved to know that Bush was alive and well, she paid them scant attention, putting pieces together in her own mind.

 

“They knew,” she said, finally lifting her eyes from the drawing. “They knew that Pellew intended to arrest William! How could they know?”

 

“It’s clear that the person who betrayed the Hotspur’s mission is also behind this,” said Kennedy. “There is a traitor and a spy in the admiralty – how else could they have known about the intention to rescue of the Anstruthers?”

 

Hornblower was frowning. “Could your reports have been intercepted? They must have been watching Clive - ”

 

“Impossible. Even if they had got hold of the communications they could never have used the information.”

 

“You seem very sure of that, sir,” said Hobbs.

 

“I am. And I intend to see Pellew and tell him that William could not have been his precious spy,” Kennedy announced confidently.

 

“Pellew wouldn’t listen to Mr Hornblower when he told him of the plot – what makes you think he’ll take your word?”

 

“Because I have proof. The communications were written in a code devised by myself and derived from Greek. Even if William had had a classical education he wouldn’t have been able to decipher the code. Only Pellew and I can do that.” Archie looked pleased with himself. “I tried to see him earlier but he was unavailable. I’ll go there first thing tomorrow and tell him that he has to release William.”

 

“He won’t do it,” said Anna, making them all look at her in surprise.

 

“Why not, Miss Maitland?” Kennedy asked her. “The admiral can’t hold Mr Bush without proof of his guilt, and he won’t find any.”

 

She held up the paper, waving it at him. “Because of this! Whoever sent this message knew that Pellew intended to arrest William – if they are indeed the same person who betrayed the mission, then what is to stop them planting the evidence necessary to convict him?”

 

“There’s something else, too,” said Hornblower. He went to the sideboard and unlocked a drawer, taking out a small bundle of papers. Selecting one, he handed it to Kennedy, who took it and read the contents with a bemused frown. “They know that you cheated the noose in Kingston.”

 

“That information has always been a closely guarded secret – not even the men at the admiralty know about my work for Pellew,” Kennedy said without looking up from the paper. Anna guessed that it was the list of names – only one person could be referred to as THE DEAD MAN.

 

“You have been active in England recently, Archie. If these people have been watching us all, they will have seen you with us. They have so much information, it would not have taken them long to work out who you were.”

 

“And Mr Hobbs knew,” Anna pointed out. She looked at the gunner, who regarded her impassively. “You were not surprised to see Mr Kennedy when he arrived, were you, Mr Hobbs?”

 

“That’s true,” agreed Kennedy, putting the paper aside at last and turning his gaze on Hobbs. “How did you come to know I was alive? Pellew took every precaution.”

 

Hobbs folded his hands behind his back, evidently unconcerned by the three pairs of inquisitive eyes fixed on him. “The Renown was still in port at Kingston for a week after Mr Hornblower sailed on the Retribution. She was still being refitted, and waiting for her two new lieutenants. I had a little shore leave, spent some time in the taverns, and got talking to a sergeant of marines from the fort. It turned out that he’d been part of the burial duty for Mr Kennedy, and when he’d had a bit too much rum he started telling me about a curious thing that had struck him about the corpse.”

 

“Curious?” asked Anna. “In what way?”

 

“The body was too light, miss. Of course, it was all sealed up, and the sergeant wouldn’t have dared to cut it open just to check, but he said that it didn’t hang like a normal body when the men lifted it. It was almost as if the body wasn’t there.” Hobbs paused, and then continued, “He didn’t remember telling me the next day, but that information got me thinking. There was no one I could discuss it with, naturally – Buckland wouldn’t have believed me and I didn’t think I could tell Mr Bush, as he’d been in the prison with Mr Kennedy and seen him dying. He would have thought I was mad. So I just kept it with me, until nearly two years later when I saw that letter on my captain’s tomb.”

 

“You’re a clever man, Mr Hobbs,” said Kennedy.

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

“If that marine told one person, he undoubtedly told others. Your survival is not such a secret as we thought, Archie,” said Hornblower. “Is our enemy someone who has been in Kingston, then?”

 

“It seems likely. But who would wish to avenge Sawyer in such a way? Did he have family?” Kennedy asked, looking at the list of names once more, as though it could tell him the answer.

 

“Only a daughter,” Hobbs replied, “but she died a few years ago. His wife passed away back in eighty-eight, I believe. There is no one else.”

 

There was a long pause. Then Kennedy said sharply, “There is you, Hobbs. I notice that your name is not on this list. You were always devoted to the captain - to the extent of all else at times.”

 

Hobbs glared at Kennedy, showing emotion for the first time. His fists clenched reflexively at his sides. “Yes, I supported the captain, with good reason. Was I expected to abandon the man I’d served with all those years just because he was failing? He needed me more, not less, in that time, faced with mutiny and conspiracy in his own ship. You were all so full of your own importance, so self-righteous – what did any of you know of him? He was a great man, and he deserved more than he got from his officers.”

 

“Hobbs - ” Kennedy began, taking a step towards the gunner, his face flushing with anger.

 

Hornblower caught his arm, holding him back. He shook his head gently. “Not now, Archie.” Turning to Hobbs, he added, “Yes, Captain Sawyer did not get that which a man of his abilities and standing should have received. We were all caught in a most impossible situation, and we all tried to do what we believed was right. Whether we made the right decision does not matter now – what’s done is done. Fighting amongst ourselves when we are facing an unknown enemy is not the answer.”

 

“How do we know that our enemy is not standing before us now?” demanded Kennedy, thrusting out an arm to point damningly at Hobbs. “How do we know it’s not he who condemned Buckland, Clive and the Anstruthers to death, and who has had Bush imprisoned? He has the motive!”

 

Hobbs threw his head back and barked a laugh. “Have your experiences taught you nothing, Mr Kennedy? Do you really think that if I wanted to kill you all I’d be standing here telling you about it? I’d have come upon you and struck in the dark without word or warning, believe me. And don’t think it didn’t cross my mind more than once.”

 

“I know that I am grateful to you for drawing this horrible plot to our attention,” said Anna, glancing at Hornblower and Kennedy. The latter fixed Hobbs with a dangerous glare, his lower lip jutted petulantly. “But now we have to decide what to do next. We cannot allow William to languish in prison for something he could never have done!”

 

As if in answer to some kind of cue, there was another knock at the door. This time Hornblower went to answer it himself. When he returned a moment later it was with a letter in his hand and a frown on his face. He stood in the doorway for some moments, looking at the single sheet of paper.

 

Kennedy glanced at him curiously. “Horatio? Is something wrong?”

 

“This is from the prison. William is to be questioned tomorrow and requests his uniform,” said Hornblower without looking up.

 

“The letter is from William? Is he all right?” asked Anna eagerly. If she could not see him, then a glimpse of his familiar writing would be enough for the moment.

 

Hornblower shook his head. “It is from the captain in charge of the prison, written on William’s behalf. He will not be allowed to communicate with us directly, in case he should try and persuade us to help him, or we should try and influence what he might say when questioned. It’s the way these things usually work.”

 

“You obviously speak from experience.” She narrowed her eyes, recalling his words earlier. “You did not seem all that surprised when he told us that William had been arrested. And you said that the message with the hanged man was a warning…did you know that Pellew would do this?”

 

Kennedy blinked, looking at his friend. “Did you, Horatio?”

 

***

 

Hornblower shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably under their scrutiny. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back, much as he would have done on his own quarterdeck.

 

“Yes,” he admitted, “the admiral told me this morning.” Anna opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand, stalling her, “Listen to me, Miss Maitland. Pellew told me that the admiralty had ordered it. I don’t believe that he thinks William is guilty, but he must do as his masters command.”

 

“Then why did you not - ” she began, but again he interrupted.

 

“Tell me what I could have done, please. I had barely three hours between the admiral telling me of his intentions and William being arrested. In that time I had no idea where he was or that he would be so swiftly returning to England. How could I have warned him of what was to happen? And if I had managed to warn him, what then? They would have treated him more harshly had he tried to escape them, not that William would ever have agreed to do so.”

 

“He’s right, Anna,” said Kennedy. “William would have stood and let them take him, just as he did earlier. He knows as well as we do that there would have been little point in running from them. Trying to run would have just given them proof of his guilt.”

 

Anna looked at them both, her lips still parted as though about to say something. Her eyes flashed angrily, and she seemed to be struggling with an imminent outburst. After a moment or two, however, she seemed to come to a decision. She raised her chin defiantly, and nodded. “So what do we do now?” she asked, remarkably calmly.

 

“I will see Pellew tomorrow, hopefully before he has time to question William. There is little we can do in the meantime,” Kennedy said, and added with a smile, “There is also nothing our mysterious enemy can do. There can be no conviction without a trial, and no trial without evidence. No one will be able to penetrate the prison walls to reach him – under the circumstances, Bush is actually in the safest place he could be.”

 

“If that thought is supposed to comfort me, Mr Kennedy, you have failed in your intentions,” Anna told him. “Will it be possible to see William?”

 

“I doubt it,” said Hornblower. “It appears that letters are forbidden him – one must assume that the same will be true of visits.”

 

“Not necessarily, Horatio.” Kennedy was looking like that cat that had got the cream again. It was irritating.

 

“Are you proposing to break into the prison, Archie? I fancy that will be just a little beyond your abilities. Unless of course you have become a magician since we last met.”

 

“Sarcasm does not become you, Mr Hornblower. I do not need magic, however, when I have a rather useful piece of paper.” He produced it from a leather wallet hidden in the breast pocket of his coat and held it out with a flourish.

 

Hornblower took it, reading the few lines in familiar handwriting:

 

I, Edward Pellew, give the bearer of this order, Francis Devereaux, express authority to take whatever steps may be necessary to fulfil his instructions. He is to be given no hindrance and to receive cooperation in all matters.

 

Signed Ed Pellew (Bt)

 

“Better than a picklock, don’t you agree, Horatio?” Kennedy asked with a grin.

 

 

TBC

 

 

Comments

[iansmomesq.livejournal.com]

That scene with Bush in the prison was perfect. Perfect!!!! And another excellent chapter and another excellent ending!!! I love that you've picked this up again full bore!

[charleygirl.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Jenn! I'm happy (and relieved!) to be able to write it again. I think my suspicions over what was causing the block were correct - since I quit Utopia the muse has returned. :)

That scene with Bush in the prison was perfect. Perfect!!!!

It's interesting you should say that, as that little scene was the last thing to be written in this chapter, done in about ten minutes. I needed to break up the scenes at Hornblower's house, and also thought we should see Bush at least once! :)