Paper Woman: A Mystery of the American Revolution (31 page)

BOOK: Paper Woman: A Mystery of the American Revolution
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Outside, the
mystery man had vanished.
 
Jacques
looked at David, then at Sophie in question.
 
She said, "A patron who found your story interesting.
 
He left soon as the wharf was
mentioned."

Mathias jerked
his thumb south.
 
"He went on foot
toward the wharf.
 
Hardly a coincidence,
I think."

David
positioned his saddlebags back on his horse.
 
"I suggest we keep our eyes open for the fellow."

They rode
toward the wharf.
 
The street opened up
into the town plaza, with the governor's house to the west and a guardhouse
before them.
 
Shops, taverns, and the
town market rimmed the plaza in between, and the harbor and wharf beckoned east
of the guardhouse.
 
Although they
spotted dark-haired men along the way, none was the man in question.

The Creek
brothers stayed with the horses while Sophie, David, Mathias, and Jacques
hastened out to collect information.
 
Since the harbormaster had gone into town and was due back within a
quarter hour, they split up to chat with crews from the two merchant
brigs.
 
Sophie and Jacques found
themselves in the company of mellow, olive-skinned Portuguese from the
Gloria
Maria
.
 
Their contribution to the
culture of St. Augustine was dark, red wine.

The first mate,
a slender fellow in his early thirties named Sebastião Tomás, communicated in
broken English.
 
After pointing out the
ship's captain, who stood talking farther up the wharf with the merchant
Northwind
's
captain, Tomás informed them the
Gloria Maria
was leaving early on the
morrow for Havana with the remainder of the wine in her hold.
 
They thanked
Senhor
Tomás and
rejoined David and Mathias in time for the harbormaster's return.

In the company
of the sneezing, rheumy-eyed harbormaster, Jacques repeated his tale about the
wayward nephew.
 
The harbormaster
confirmed the news they'd dreaded: that Dusseau and his older companion had
chartered the fishing sloop
Annabelle
out of St. Augustine just that
morning, ostensibly for Savannah.
 
But
they knew the
Annabelle
had gone south to Havana instead.
 
They thanked the harbormaster, smiles ebbing
into exhaustion, and rejoined the Creek warriors and horses.
 
"Damnation," David whispered.
 
"So mucking close."

They stood in
silence, the afternoon sun glaring at them like a bloodshot eye.
 
Sophie gazed eastward past the island to the
masts and spars of the three ships at anchor.
 
"You know, those Portuguese from the
Gloria Maria
are
leaving for Havana tomorrow.
 
The first
mate seemed like a decent fellow."

David darted a
look at the gig for the Portuguese ship.
 
"Good for them.
 
Bon
voyage
to the
Gloria Maria
."

She studied him
with incredulity.
 
The only other time
she'd seen her brother give up was with the printing press.
 
"I thought you were intrigued by the
idea of going to Havana."

"That was
before I realized I could get my throat slit or my skin peeled in the
process."

"But we've
come so far.
 
We cannot just quit."

"Sophie,
we set out on this journey to find Don Alejandro in St. Augustine and question
him about the old man and Jonah's murders.
 
I wager he and Dusseau realized the danger of meeting here and fled to
Havana.
 
We've done the best we
could.
 
Let's go home before the Fates
change their minds and our lives become as forfeit as stock back there in the
slaughter pen."

"But it
looks as though El Serpiente is following them.
 
Mathias and Uncle Jacques have business with him on Jonah's
behalf and need our support.
 
And the
emeralds are a responsibility we must discharge."

"Oh, sweet
Christ, not the Congress's stones again."

"Why
assume the stones came from the Congress?"
 
Jacques scrutinized him.
 
"I doubt it could afford to part with such a sum, even for an
alliance with Spain.
 
Consider that the
money might be Hernandez's personal money, an inheritance."

Sophie observed
the captain of the
Gloria Maria
, a whip-slender fellow with graying
temples, who was speaking with Tomás at the ship's gig.
 
The captain paused conversation with the
first mate long enough to return the inspection, his dark eyes shrewd on
her.
 
She looked back at her
companions.
 
"If that's the case,
neither the Congress nor King George has the right to these emeralds."

"Exactly.
 
With Hernandez dead, the rightful owner
becomes his next of kin — his uncle, Don Antonio, in Havana."
 
The Frenchman returned his attention to
David.
 
"Surely among all of us
there is enough honor to return an inheritance to a family."

David threw up
his hands.
 
"Damn Hernandez!
 
We should have left him bleeding to death on
the road."

"I
agree."
 
Jacques's gaze swiveled to
the Portuguese gig.
 
"But how bad
can a voyage be with a cargo of Portuguese wine?"

Dubiousness
swam in Mathias's eyes.
 
"Don't you
get seasick when you cross the Atlantic, Uncle?"

"Bah.
 
Just a bit of queasiness the first day
out.
 
Nothing brandy cannot cure."

David
grimaced.
 
"Seasickness is the
least of it.
 
Out there are
pirates.
 
And those massive storms,
hurricanes."

Mathias ignored
David and regarded Sophie.
 
"Did
you inquire whether the Portuguese would take on passengers?"

"No.
 
I was still hoping we'd find Dusseau
here."
 
She glanced over her
shoulder again.
 
The captain smiled at
her, teeth white in a tanned face.
 
"But let's not stand around.
 
That fellow who's been watching us all this time is the captain."

Mathias
nodded.
 
"My cousins wish to return
to Georgia, having no desire to sail to Cuba.
 
Let us learn whether the Portuguese have room for the four of us.
 
Then we'll find an inn and a place to board
the horses."

David's sigh
whined with resignation.
 
"Very
well.
 
All of you might as well follow
my lead on this, too.
 
But I'm warning
you, I've seen enough crooked piquet to know we've missed something about
Hernandez's shooting.
 
Meeting in the
home of his uncle, rather than the Church of Saint Teresa, smells absolutely
rancid.
 
If this blows up in our faces
—"

"Don't
worry."
 
Sophie tightened her lips
in annoyance.
 
"We won't say you
didn't warn us."

They left the
two Creek warriors with the horses again and approached the gig.
 
The captain met them halfway and inclined
his head.
 
"Good afternoon.
 
Sebastião mentioned you might have questions
for me.
 
Miguel de Arriaga,
capitão
of the
Gloria Maria
, at your service."

David matched
the captain's easy smile, and the two shook hands.
 
"Good afternoon,
Capitão
Arriaga.
 
I'm Daniel Hazelton, and this is my sister,
Sarah, her husband Mark, and his father, Jonathan.
 
I'm moving to East Florida from North Carolina, taking on an
indigo plantation, and thought I'd check into sugarcane as a secondary crop.
 
Have you passage for four as far as
Havana?"

"
Sim,
senhor
.
 
As for the quality of the
accommodations, well, that depends on the depths of your pockets."

David rubbed
his hands together.
 
"Excellent.
 
Step this way,
and I'll allow you to inspect the payment I have in mind."

David and
Capitão
Arriaga strolled toward the horses.
 
Sarcasm gleamed in Jacques's eyes, and, lingering behind with Sophie and
Mathias, he produced what would have been a perfect imitation of a preacher had
it been pronounced from a pulpit: "My brothers and sisters, let us give
thanks to Measure Travis, Zack MacVie, Peter Whitney, and Donald Fairbourne for
their equine donations to our cause."

"Amen,"
said Sophie and Mathias before the three of them caught up with David and the
captain.

Chapter Twenty-Four

THE EXTRA
HORSES purchased passages aboard the
Gloria Maria
for Sophie, David,
Mathias, and Jacques.
 
In the plaza of
St. Augustine afterwards, they and the two Creek scanned posted notices and
broadsides before strolling through the chaos of trade.
 
Negroes wearing silver armbands engraved
with the word "free" hawked vegetables, fish, and ale next to
bartering merchants and peddlers.
 
Magicians delighted children by pulling coins from their ears.
 
A trick dog danced on hind legs for his
fife-playing master.
 
No one carried
around the baggage of fear and hostility that so characterized residents of the
Savannah area.
 
Even soldiers were
relaxed.

Amazement
softened David's tone.
 
"The war is
little more than rumor here."

"
Oui
.
 
They would all rather be taking a
siesta
."

Sophie shook
her head.
 
"Deprive them of
supplies or business, and they'd feel the tension to the north."
 
Shock speared her when she recognized the
mysterious dark-haired man observing them from the porch of a shop bordering
the plaza.
 
She gripped David's
forearm.
 
"Over there.
 
It's the fellow from the Dragon and
Phoenix."
 
All six turned to regard
him.

With a
congenial smile, he ambled over.
 
"Welcome to St. Augustine.
 
You look a bit lost.
 
Do you need
directions?"
 
Intrigue danced in
his dark eyes.

A Spanish
accent lurked beneath his flawless command of the English language.
 
David pumped his hand.
 
"Hazelton's the name, Daniel Hazelton.
 
And your name?"

"Luciano
de Herrera.
 
Ah, you recognize my
name.
 
I am not surprised.
 
I am a long-time resident.
 
Got left behind in '64 to round up some
escaped horses."
 
He exchanged
greetings with passing soldiers.
 
"Wound up helping with property sales and, in general, smoothing
out the transition for the governor."

David's easy smile
didn't reach his eyes.
 
"How
fortunate."

Herrera drilled
his stare through David's skull.
 
"So, Mr.
Hazelton
, what brings you to St. Augustine?"

Clever and
resourceful, Luciano de Herrera had made himself invaluable to the Britons
colonizing St. Augustine for so many years that he was now beyond reproach: the
dream of any long-term operative.
 
Sophie wouldn't have been surprised to hear he made regular reports to
Spain or Cuba beneath the very nose of Governor Tonyn.
 
Meanwhile, David returned his penetrating
stare and lowered his voice.
 
"Esteban Hernandez referred us to you."

"Did
he?
 
And how does the young man?"

"Not well,
I'm afraid.
 
He's dead."

Amiability
evaporated from Herrera's face, and caution crept into his surveillance of the
six.
 
"Might I inquire of the
circumstances?"

"Stung by
a serpent we couldn't kill.
 
We've
reason to believe more venomous creatures abound."

Herrera's lips
twitched once, and his caution shifted to encompass the surrounding
townsfolk.
 
"A wise
observation.
 
This land has its share of
such creatures.
 
Beware a scorpion that
inhabits the same terrain as the serpent."

El Escorpión
and El Serpiente.
 
Lovely.

"Thank you
for the warning.
 
We'll watch where we
walk."

"As I
always have."
 
Herrera regarded the
wharf.
 
"You've booked passage on
the
Gloria Maria
?
 
Capitão
Arriaga is a fine fellow with a trim vessel.
 
If you don't distract him with talk of poisonous creatures, he will have
you in Havana quite possibly in advance of any fishing sloops that departed
this morning."

"Excellent.
 
Might you recommend an inn for
tonight?"

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