The counsellor picked up a paper from his desk, cleared his throat and in strongly accented English began to read aloud. After a few sentences it was clear that he intended to deliver a lengthy preamble to the case. Brice held up his hand to stop him.
'Senor Adrian, from what I have already seen of the documents, the crux of what we have to decide today concerns the capture of the ship named Santo Rosario off the coast of Peru. Perhaps we can proceed directly to that event.'
With an exasperated look the counsellor searched through his pile of documents until he found the one he wanted, then once again he began to read aloud. He described the events of that day: the slow approach of Trinity, the moment when Captain Lopez had grown suspicious, the firing of the first cannon shot, the musketry that followed. As he listened, Hector slowly became aware that he had heard the contents before. It was, word for word, the same deposition that Hector had heard at Paita, read out to Maria. Grudgingly he had to admire the thoroughness of Spanish bureaucracy. Somehow the colonial officials in Peru had managed to supply the document from half a world away.
Senor Adrian came to the end of his recitation, and Brice turned his attention to Hector.
'Were you present during these events?'
Hector felt trapped. Faced with such a precise and accurate account of what had happened, he could see no way of saving himself except to tell an outright lie and pit his word against Maria's testimony. Yet he knew that to contradict her sworn statement was a betrayal of what he felt about her, her honesty and her courage. He hesitated before answering, and when the words finally came out, there was a catch in his voice as he uttered the falsehood.
'I know nothing of the events you describe. I was aboard Trinity early in her voyage and only for a few weeks.'
The Spanish counsellor looked at him with open disbelief. 'All the accounts we have from Peru speak of a young man, of your age and description, who acted as interpreter and negotiator. You - alone of all the pirates — were seen face to face by our officials.'
'You'll have to prove that,' intervened Brice.
'I will, beyond all doubt,' snapped the counsellor. Turning to the secretary he said, 'Summon our first witness.'
The secretary rose from his chair and, crossing the library, left by a far door. He returned a few moments later. Behind him walked Coxon.
Hector suppressed a gasp of surprise. The last time he had seen Coxon had been at Panama on the evening before the buccaneer captain departed to return to the Caribbean. Then Coxon had been carrying plunder looted from the Spanish. Now he was serving them. Hector wondered how the buccaneer had managed to convince the Spaniards of his new allegiance, and at the same time maintain his links as an informant for Morgan. Whatever Coxon had arranged, he was clearly prospering. He was expensively dressed in a dark blue coat worn over a fashionably long waistcoat whose sleeves had been turned back to show his ruffled lace shirt-cuffs. Coxon had also put on weight. He was chubbier than before, there was even more grey in his reddish hair, and he was beginning to go bald. Hector enjoyed an instant of satisfaction from observing that Coxon had powdered his face and neck thickly in an unsuccessful attempt to hide the blotches and sores on his skin. Hector hoped that the damage to Coxon's complexion was permanent and owed something to the Kuna salve. Coxon gave him a malicious glance, full of quiet triumph, before turning to face the Spanish counsellor.
'Your name is Captain John Coxon?'
'Yes.'
'And you took part in the assault on His Catholic Majesty's possessions in the Americas two years ago?'
'Only briefly. I had been led to believe that we were campaigning against the heathen savages of the area, and they had been troubling the civilised settlers. As soon as I realised the truth, I withdrew my men.'
Hector was stunned. Involuntarily he thought of the phrase his shipmates used to describe a turncoat. He 'turned cat in the pan'. Hector stole a glance towards Brice. The lawyer's face was expressionless. Hector had a worrying feeling that Coxon's presence had also taken Brice by surprise.
'Do you recognise this person standing here?' asked the embassy counsellor.
Coxon's face was hard-set. He looked Hector up and down as if identifying an item of lost property. Hector was reminded of the pitiless reptilian look he had seen when Coxon seized the L'Arc-de-Ciel.
'He was one of the worst on the expedition. A number of your countrymen lost their lives when he promised them safe conduct, knowing that the savages were waiting in ambush to murder them.'
'Where did this happen?'
'At Santa Maria, in the Darien.'
Brice interrupted. 'Senor Adrian, this line of questioning is irrelevant. The charge we are here to substantiate is one of piracy on the high seas. The event your witness has described took place on land and within the overseas territory of Spain, and is therefore outside the jurisdiction of the Court of Admiralty. It will not be admissible.'
The Spaniard looked exasperated. He made a gesture of impatience. 'Captain Coxon, please wait outside. I will need you to give evidence in support of my next witness.'
As Coxon left the room, the smug expression on his face left no doubt that the buccaneer would take pleasure in doing Hector as much harm as possible.
'Please call the second witness,' said the counsellor. He was looking towards the door with an air of triumphant expectation.
Maria walked in.
Hector felt as if all the air had suddenly been emptied from his lungs. Maria was dressed in a plain russet gown with a lace collar, and her head was uncovered. She wore no jewellery and she looked the same as he remembered her, perhaps a little more mature, but just as composed. Hector was reminded of the moment when he had seen her standing in the little fishing boat early on the morning they had landed at Paita. Then, as now, she had seemed so self-contained, so sure of herself, and just as beautiful.
'You are Maria da Silva, and you are companion to Dona Juana, the wife of the Alcalde of Paita?' asked the counsellor.
'That is correct.' Maria's response was strong and clear.
'And you were aboard the Santo Rosario when the vessel was attacked by pirates, and witnessed the murder of her captain, Juan Lopez?'
'I did not witness his death but I saw his body later.'
'And you spent the next three weeks aboard the Santo Rosario, in company with your mistress, while the vessel was in the hands of the pirates.'
'That too is correct.'
Hector could not take his eyes off Maria. The initial shock of seeing her had given way to an urge to attract her attention, to re-establish contact with her and somehow not let it slip away. But she did not look towards him. Her gaze seemed to be fixed on the papers lying on the counsellor's polished desk.
Her questioner ground on. 'During that time or at any other time, did this man offer you violence or rob your possessions?'
Only then did Maria turn her head and look directly at Hector and their eyes met. He could read nothing in her expression, however hard he tried. To his dismay he saw a disinterest, a blankness as if he was a stranger.
'He did not.'
'As far as you know was he responsible for the death of Captain Lopez?'
'As I said, I did not see Captain Lopez die. I have no knowledge of the matter.'
The counsellor was becoming irritated. Hector detected that he wanted to clinch the matter.
'Maria da Silva, was this man a member of the crew of pirates?'
Maria looked again towards Hector. There was a pause of a few heartbeats and then she said quietly, 'He may have been aboard the other ship, but he never set foot on the Santo Rosario.'