Sir Pilcher was well aware of all that; indeed, he was already one step ahead, since the whole difficulty would be removed if the wretched Lieutenant Ramage could be manoeuvred into refusing the appointment. Every officer could refuse an appointment; it was a vastly different thing from refusing to carry out an order. But Ramage knew he must step warily in dealing with someone like Sir Pilcher.
Then Ramage suddenly remembered Sir Pilcher's obvious disappointment when he had declined - when he'd done what he assumed the Admiral hoped. No, Sir Pilcher was not trying to manoeuvre him into refusing. Hell, it simply did not make sense.
"If your choice differs, sir, I would naturally much prefer ..."
"There are other factors," the Admiral said, waving away objections with a flabby hand.
"I'm afraid that quite unwittingly I've put you in a difficult situation, sir," Ramage said smoothly. "Obviously you would prefer to give these orders to an officer you know, and in whom you have trust - and for whom," he said with a slight emphasis, "you can ensure the cooperation of everyone on the station."
As the Admiral's hooded eyes lifted to stare at him, Ramage realized the advantage of dealing with someone like Sir Pilcher: he was so ruthlessly determined to look after his own interests - which ultimately meant keeping in with the First Lord - that, after a certain point, tact and circumlocution were quite unnecessary. Once it was clear what was being bought and sold, Sir Pilcher was quite happy to sit down and drive a hard bargain.
"Well?" the Admiral snapped. "What about my letter?"
"It's in my pocket, sir," Ramage said innocently.
"Indeed? Ramage, I don't give a damn where it is: you know what I mean!"
Now for the bargaining, Ramage told himself, suddenly realizing that, irrationally, he now wanted the job of solving the mystery of the vanishing Post Office packets.
"Lord Spencer mentions 'widest latitude and suitable cooperation ...', sir."
"Well?" the Admiral growled suspiciously. "It doesn't mean giving you a ship o' the line and half a dozen frigates, you know."
Ramage was thankful for the Admiral's angry exaggeration, since it made his next request sound trivial. "Although obviously I don't know how the investigation will proceed, sir, I'd like to count on having some of my officers and men."
"What officers and men?" Sir Pilcher snapped. "You don't have a ship now."
"Some of those who were with me in the Triton, sir."
"They've already gone to the Arrogant. She's very short."
"I'd need only a dozen or so."
"Oh, very well."
"When does the Arrogant sail, sir?"
"Not for a week or so. Give me a list and I'll warn Captain Napier."
"Thank you, sir."
"So you'll do your best to catch these beggars?"
Sir Pilcher was suddenly anxious, almost pleading, as if he'd taken off a grim mask he'd worn for bargaining. Ramage was immediately puzzled again, and felt a chill of fear. Had he fallen into some trap? At first the Admiral had seemed disappointed that he'd declined the job; then the moment Ramage discovered that Lord Spencer had recommended him, the Admiral had apparently contradicted himself by making it abundantly clear he would have chosen another officer. Now, he was anxious for Ramage to succeed.
To give himself time to think, Ramage took his hat from his lap, carefully placed it on the chair beside him, and then tugged at his coat, as though feeling too hot. Quickly he tried to think of all Sir Pilcher's possible motives, but only two factors stood out.
First, it's an almost impossible job, and for all his protest that "my choice does differ", Sir Pilcher obviously wants to avoid giving it to one of his favourites, who would then be saddled with failure. Second, the wily old man can see in the uncertain mist of the future an angry Cabinet blaming the Admiralty for the failure, and an equally angry Admiralty blaming Sir Pilcher.
While the Admiral would not be able to avoid all the blame, Ramage realized Sir Pilcher was neatly covering himself: he had just told Ramage - and presumably would hint at it in a subsequent dispatch to Lord Spencer - that he personally would have chosen someone else, but since the First Lord had suggested Ramage, he had felt himself bound to accept the recommendation. That left the Admiral in a happy position whether Ramage eventually reported success or failure.
Oh yes, he thought wryly, in a way it is a trap; but the job presented a challenge he found himself increasingly reluctant to ignore.
"I don't know about 'catch them', sir," he said warily. "I can't do much with a dozen men and no ship. Your letter mentions only 'inquiry', though I noticed Lord Spencer refers to 'halting' the losses."
"But I haven't a suitable ship to give you, blast it," Sir Pilcher protested, the earlier querulous note creeping back into his voice. "Absolutely nothing. If I had, you'd be welcome to her. You need something as slippery as these packets - or as slippery as they're supposed to be."\
Now Sir Pilcher was speaking the truth: there was no suitable ship on the station. At least, since Ramage had not the faintest idea what he was going to do, he did not know what type of ship he would need: fast and lightly-armed or slower and heavily-armed.
"Very well, sir. If you'll excuse me, I'll start off by seeing what I can find out from the Postmaster."
Sir Pilcher did not bother to hide his relief.
"Fine, my boy, fine. You have a splendid opportunity to distinguish yourself; quite splendid. Every one of my lieutenants will envy you," he said heartily, confirming Ramage's suspicions. "If you can put a stop to all this wretched business, the Cabinet will hear about you, I assure you."
And if I don't, Ramage thought sourly, they'll still hear about me.
The Admiral stood up. "Now, I have your final orders here ready - just give me a moment to sign and date them." He waddled to the desk, scribbled and then handed them to Ramage. "You'd better glance through them before you leave."
Ramage read the few lines.
"You are hereby required and directed to inquire fully into the recent heavy losses among Post Office packet vessels between the West Indies and the United Kingdom, the details of which you have already been apprised, and having determined beyond any manner of doubt the reason for these losses, and if possible halted them, you are at once to deliver a written report, to me if the conclusion of your inquiries is reached within the limits of this station, or to my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty if in Home or distant waters..."
Chapter Three
Before seeing the Deputy Postmaster-General, Ramage went to Government House to call on the Governor's secretary in his large and immaculately tidy office. Thankful to be sitting down in a cool and friendly room, Ramage chatted for a few minutes, politely refused a rum punch and then asked if he could borrow a copy of the Royal Kalendar for ten minutes.
The secretary was a few years older than Ramage and obviously assumed that any visitor had a favour to ask of the Governor. He looked relieved when he gave Ramage the small, thick volume. "Want to see how your name is rising up the Navy List?" he asked jovially.
Ramage laughed. "Progress is so slow that I need look only once a year!"
The Kalendar listed nearly everyone employed in Government offices at home and abroad, and gave many other details ranging from the ships of war in commission to the names of the staff of the City of London Lying-in Hospital. The information about the General Post Office (ranging from the fact it was "Erected by Act of Parliament, 27 December 1660, Lombard Street" to a list of nearly two hundred offices open for the delivery and collection of the Penny Post) covered eight pages.