helped catch a murderous butcher in Edinburgh. There is talk here now that you scuttled the Fair Winds , and made off with her goods … even her passengers.” The German captain shook his head, “Kapitän, others consider it, but I do not. Bitte … please … just why do you bring meine little niece here?”
Anthony stared at Captain Wilhelm for a long moment. “Many lives are resting on faith … particularly mine right now. We had something to do with the Fair Winds , Captain, but not her destruction. We tried to save her, but when we arrived, she was a floating hulk. No passengers, no cargo. Only the ghosts of her dead crew manned her.”
“So, there were passengers as some are whispering, ja?” Wilhelm asked with a concerned look.
“Ya bet yer boots, Uncle,” Moira said eagerly, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Whole shipload. We found some of their belongings, and where they were berthed, but no passengers.”
“How many are we speakin’ of?” Albert Pryce asked curiously.
Anthony looked over to the Welshman, “One hundred and fifty, all told. Men, women and children.”
“Foolish,” Wilhelm spat angrily. “Nothing to gain from that.” Klaus sat back in his chair, his face a dark thunderstorm of anger. “Bitte, go on. Did you scuttle her?”
“No,” Hunter replied. “We did not. Two of my crew found where the pirates rigged the Fair Winds to detonate the moment anyone was curious enough to look about. We barely made it off in time.”
“Leaving not a sign as to who did the deed,” Pryce added. “Devilish, just devilish.”
“Dead men’s tales,” Krumer said absently, still casually watching the pub around them, full of patrons, “often never get told.”
“Only this time they will,” Hunter added sternly. “We did recover some recordings from the ship’s opti and part of a servitor. Between the two, we’ve voices and conversation. From that, we’ve a name.”
“Who?” Klaus Wilhelm said, an ugly sound undercutting his voice.
“John Charles ‘Black Jack’ Clark,” the captain replied.
Captain Wilhelm and Albert exchanged a shocked look. Klaus sat back in his chair, stunned. “Kapitän, you are mistaken. Johann Clark is not your man. I can speak for him, as he sails for me. He captains one of my ships, in fact. He and his ship have been here for many days. If they had left, he would have told me.”
“Ships?” Krumer asked curiously.
“Ja, ships,” Captain Wilhelm replied, slightly agitated. “I am not so much the pirate these days. That is the work for a young man. Now I am a merchant, with three ships under mein flag. Johann is the captain of one. The Revenge . But he is not your man.”
Moira shook her head. “Uncle, I heard the pirate’s voice, too. I rebuilt the recording. I don’t know him, but the Cap’n does. If the cap’n says it’s him, then it’s him.”
“The man’s more’n a bit troubled, but pirate?” Albert shook his head, “no, not possible. Something else has to be happening here.”
“Uncle, maybe we could talk to him?” Moira asked.
Abruptly, the door to the pub opened, Conrad O’Fallon, wrapped in a thick woolen coat, rushed inside. Looking around, he walked quickly across the room.
Krumer sat upright the moment Conrad entered the room, “O’Fallon, what is it? You look like the spirits themselves are chasing you.”
“Och, more’n like ah tryin’ to outrun ’em,” the quartermaster replied out of breath, placing his hands flat on the table. He looked over at Hunter, “Cap’n, ya gotta a problem. Clark’s comin’ here. He’s not far behind me.”
As if on cue, the pub door swung wide, letting in a blast of cold air. The quartermaster spun around, grabbing the grip of his revolver even as others yelled to close the door.
From out of the cold five men spilled into the room. Once through the doorway, they spread out, three on one side, two on the other. Weathered, hard men, none looked any less forgiving
Anthony stared at Captain Wilhelm for a long moment. “Many lives are resting on faith … particularly mine right now. We had something to do with the Fair Winds , Captain, but not her destruction. We tried to save her, but when we arrived, she was a floating hulk. No passengers, no cargo. Only the ghosts of her dead crew manned her.”
“So, there were passengers as some are whispering, ja?” Wilhelm asked with a concerned look.
“Ya bet yer boots, Uncle,” Moira said eagerly, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Whole shipload. We found some of their belongings, and where they were berthed, but no passengers.”
“How many are we speakin’ of?” Albert Pryce asked curiously.
Anthony looked over to the Welshman, “One hundred and fifty, all told. Men, women and children.”
“Foolish,” Wilhelm spat angrily. “Nothing to gain from that.” Klaus sat back in his chair, his face a dark thunderstorm of anger. “Bitte, go on. Did you scuttle her?”
“No,” Hunter replied. “We did not. Two of my crew found where the pirates rigged the Fair Winds to detonate the moment anyone was curious enough to look about. We barely made it off in time.”
“Leaving not a sign as to who did the deed,” Pryce added. “Devilish, just devilish.”
“Dead men’s tales,” Krumer said absently, still casually watching the pub around them, full of patrons, “often never get told.”
“Only this time they will,” Hunter added sternly. “We did recover some recordings from the ship’s opti and part of a servitor. Between the two, we’ve voices and conversation. From that, we’ve a name.”
“Who?” Klaus Wilhelm said, an ugly sound undercutting his voice.
“John Charles ‘Black Jack’ Clark,” the captain replied.
Captain Wilhelm and Albert exchanged a shocked look. Klaus sat back in his chair, stunned. “Kapitän, you are mistaken. Johann Clark is not your man. I can speak for him, as he sails for me. He captains one of my ships, in fact. He and his ship have been here for many days. If they had left, he would have told me.”
“Ships?” Krumer asked curiously.
“Ja, ships,” Captain Wilhelm replied, slightly agitated. “I am not so much the pirate these days. That is the work for a young man. Now I am a merchant, with three ships under mein flag. Johann is the captain of one. The Revenge . But he is not your man.”
Moira shook her head. “Uncle, I heard the pirate’s voice, too. I rebuilt the recording. I don’t know him, but the Cap’n does. If the cap’n says it’s him, then it’s him.”
“The man’s more’n a bit troubled, but pirate?” Albert shook his head, “no, not possible. Something else has to be happening here.”
“Uncle, maybe we could talk to him?” Moira asked.
Abruptly, the door to the pub opened, Conrad O’Fallon, wrapped in a thick woolen coat, rushed inside. Looking around, he walked quickly across the room.
Krumer sat upright the moment Conrad entered the room, “O’Fallon, what is it? You look like the spirits themselves are chasing you.”
“Och, more’n like ah tryin’ to outrun ’em,” the quartermaster replied out of breath, placing his hands flat on the table. He looked over at Hunter, “Cap’n, ya gotta a problem. Clark’s comin’ here. He’s not far behind me.”
As if on cue, the pub door swung wide, letting in a blast of cold air. The quartermaster spun around, grabbing the grip of his revolver even as others yelled to close the door.
From out of the cold five men spilled into the room. Once through the doorway, they spread out, three on one side, two on the other. Weathered, hard men, none looked any less forgiving
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