"It took a couple of years for the men to be certain the French would always exchange them without long delays."
"Yes, that also puzzles me: seamen - whether merchant or from the King's ships - usually wait years."
"The French - I'm ashamed to say this, Mr Ramage - the French exchange packetsmen quickly because they know they won't fight: they want the men back at Falmouth and off in another packet to surrender again. That way the French Government knows it's disrupting the mails, and it makes sure of a regular supply of prize packets," Much said bitterly. "They like the ships to use as privateers - fast, well built, most of them new, and captured without damage; no shot holes in the hull."
"Yes, the packetsmen, privateersmen and the French Government all get handsome profits. It just chafes across the back of any honest Briton posting a letter," Ramage said bitterly, "not to mention Government business. Downing Street, the Admiralty and the War Office all cut off from governors, ships and troops because of the greed and treason of a few score men. A few score Englishmen who've done what the whole French Fleet have failed to do..."
The four men sat silent, each lost in his thoughts. Finally Ramage asked the Mate, "Why are you telling me all this, Mr Much? Don't you risk having your throat cut?"
"The risk is there all right, but supposing you were in my place? What would you do?"
"Don't you venture?"
"Indeed, I don't," Much exclaimed angrily. '"Tis more vicious than drink - apart from being against the regulations - and 'tis treason, too."
"But you've sailed with Captain Stevens a long time," Ramage said pointedly.
"Aye, to my eternal shame, and I know you wonder why I've done nothing before this. Yes, I've sailed with him a long time, and his father before him. A commander for many years, the old man, and with his dying breath he asked me to stay on as Mate with his son Gideon. I was so upset with the sight of the old man dragging his anchors for the next world that I promised. I kept that promise until yesterday, when Gideon broke his solemn word to me. I think the old man knew he had a bad streak in him; many's the time I heard him round on Gideon and say money wasn't everything in this world; but Gideon reckoned it was..."
Much's voice faded as he roamed alone with his memories, and finally Ramage brought him back to the present. "What started the quarrelling between you and Stevens after the Rossignol was sighted?"
The Mate sighed. "That I should be talking like this of the old man's son. Well, the fact is the Captain - I'll call him Gideon, so we don't get mixed up - has done this twice before. I was wrong to stay with him - but I'd promised the old man. Still, before we left Falmouth this last time, I'd had enough. I made Gideon swear he'd never do it again. But the Master - he felt the same as me - didn't believe him and reported sick, so he didn't sail with us. Me - well, I thought Gideon would stand by his word and I signed on again, seeing I'd promised his father, God rest his soul."
"Why didn't the Master believe him?"
Once again Much tried to ease the bandage round his head. "Because he knows how desperately Gideon wants a new ship," he said simply.
"But the Arabella's almost new," Ramage exclaimed, and a moment later remembered the rot round the eye-bolts of the stern-chase breechings, and the vague remark Stevens had made the evening they had drinks together.
"Yes, she's almost new," Much said, "but the builder was sharper than Gideon: while Gideon was a prisoner that last time, seems the builder used a lot o' green wood in the stern, and most of it's gone rotten already. It'd cost a pretty penny to rip it out ... And Gideon reckoned that rather than pay for repairs out of his own pocket he'd sooner have those gentlemen in Lombard Street buy him a new ship - they paid for the Arabella of course, because the last one was captured. And Gideon would spend another year - on full pay - supervising the construction."
"Yes, but what the devil does Stevens get out of it?" Ramage objected. "He loses charter money and passenger fares..."
"Aye, he'd lose that, but he gets a brand-new ship. Apart from the rot, there's a year or so's depreciation written off just like that!"
Yorke, who had been listening as best he could while carrying out a conversation with Bowen, turned to Ramage and said quietly, "Believe me, Nicholas, as a businessman I can assure you that even if he takes two years to build the new ship he'll make a far greater profit than if he'd been at sea. In effect, he's gained - well, I'd guess a third or half of his original investment."
"I can see the temptation is enormous. But the risk of discovery ..."
"It's been going on for four or five years, much longer than over-insuring ventures," Much said, "and the Post Office suspects nothing. They think it's because there are swarms of French privateers at sea."
"And we know there aren't," Yorke commented. "No wonder the Admiralty are puzzled: I'll bet their frigates don't sight that many!"
Ramage decided to keep his own orders secret: Much seemed quite satisfied at opening his heart - or was it purging his soul? - to a King's officer.
"Did they think they could always keep this a secret - the ventures frauds and the new ships?"
"The new ships, yes: the commanders keep their mouths shut, and who could actually prove anything anyway? There's no secret about carrying ventures - it's been going on for years, and when the Post Office tried to stop it last year the men went on strike: you probably remember it. Lombard Street kept quiet about the reason, but it was ventures. The over-insuring - well, that's something else! That's a secret all right - why, if the underwriters got so much as a hint..."
"But why hasn't the Post Office suspected something?" Ramage persisted. "Surely they question the commanders when they're exchanged? Don't the commanders face a court of inquiry when they lose a ship, like we do? I've gone through three so far!"
"Oh yes; it's a routine business. As soon as he gets back to Falmouth from France, the commander goes to a notary and swears a 'protest' like any other shipmaster, and delivers that to the Post Office Agent. Then a committee - made up of other packet commanders - sit to question him, and that's that. Obviously his brother commanders aren't going to stir up any mud! Sometimes the Inspector of Packets comes down from London, but" - Much shrugged his shoulders - "he's a man who neither sees nor hears evil."
"So that's it," Ramage said. "But you haven't explained why Stevens broke his promise."
"It's Farrell," Much said angrily. "I could see that damnable Surgeon was persuading - or threatening, for he's a wicked man - long before we reached Kingston. It's my belief the Surgeon's carrying very high insurance on his ventures."
"But how can the Surgeon threaten him?"
"On behalf of the snip's company. When they get back to Falmouth, moorings could get cut in the night and the ship drift... she could catch fire ... spring a leak ... Bear in mind, sir, the Post Office only pays out if she's lost due to enemy action."
"Don't forget Stevens wanted a new ship anyway," Yorke muttered. "It'd be enough to persuade an owner. Probably wouldn't seem like treachery or treason: simply safeguarding his interests by submitting to blackmail by the officers and crew. And getting a new ship into the bargain."
Ramage rubbed the scars over his right eyebrow. "I can see that. Wouldn't make any difference in court, of course; it's still treason and Stevens would be hanged."
"Hanged!" exclaimed Much. "Oh my God, what have I done?"
Ramage said nothing and Yorke and Bowen turned back to the chessboard.
"Hanged..." Much whispered. "I told him it was sinful; I warned him before we left Falmouth..."