Aadil must have known his taverns well, for it was a comfortably appointed room, with two unboarded windows, ample sconces for light, and a handsomely laid table. The food was set before us, though Aadil would have none of it. The meats, he said, were not prepared in accordance with his religion. The same faith, he explained, forbade the consumption of spirituous liquors.
“No liquors, quotha!” Elias cried out. “By the devil, Weaver, I’ve finally discovered a more unappealing religion than yours.” He would not allow our host’s abstinence to slow his progress, however, and quickly poured himself a glass of wine and began to inflict serious harm on a plate of cold chicken.
Through all of this, our friend Mr. Teaser sat quietly, hands in his lap. He shook his head when offered food and drink. I thought it not entirely surprising. After all, he had heard terrible news and witnessed some remarkable events that day. Nevertheless, I could not understand his passivity in the hands of this black-skinned giant. There was naught to conclude but that Teaser had enjoyed dealings with Aadil Wajid Ali Baghat before and had been given cause to trust the Indian spy.
This supposition was borne out in the sequel, for though Mr. Teaser sat in utter dejected silence, Aadil nevertheless poured a healthy portion of wine into a pewter cup and handed it over to the unfortunate. “Drink it, sir. I know you English find it restoring.”
Teaser took the cup in his hands, but he made no motion to drink. “I can’t believe she’s dead,” Teaser intoned. “And poor Mother Clap and my friends—what will become of them? We must go back to help them.”
I own I had not expected such brave sentiments from a man who would marry another man, but the night was already full-freighted with surprises and would, I was now certain, yet contain many more.
“We cannot go back, and there’s nothing to be done for them,” I said. “I am sorry to put it to you so, but it is the truth. With the constables and Reformation men there, it is out of our hands, and from their behavior I gathered they were in the service of some other power, one with money to make certain the business was done. We can only hope that when their dark purpose is fulfilled, they will lose interest in the prosecution of your friends.”
“And who do you believe to be that hidden power?” Aadil asked.
I could tell from his tone of voice that he knew himself and only wanted to hear me say it. I could think of no reason to refuse. “Unless I am very much mistaken, the East India Company. I suppose I should say, a faction within the Company, but if it is Ellershaw’s or Forester’s or some other hand that moves these pieces, I cannot say.”
Aadil nodded slowly. “I think you may be right, but I have perhaps a better sense of which faction is behind this. I shall tell you what I know and why I am here. I understand some little bit of your predicament, Mr. Weaver, and I know you are not acting of your own free will. It is my greatest hope that once you hear what I have to say, you will understand that mine is the cause of justice, and you will be willing to aid me in the completion of my tasks.”
“The cause of justice,” I spat. “Was it in the cause of justice that you murdered Carmichael in the service of Forester?”
He shook his head. “You mustn’t think it, for I was fond of Carmichael and his good humor, and I would not harm him. I own I al-lowed you to believe otherwise, for it helped me to flush you out, which was my greatest concern at the time. I was working in the service of Forester that night—or leading him to believe I worked in his service, I ought to say—and I can inform you that neither he nor I had anything to do with that crime.”
“It is convenient for you to say so. And what exactly have you been doing for Mr. Forester all this time?”
Aadil grinned. “As for that, I care not to provide too much detail at the moment. Suffice to say that, like so many men of the East India Company, he has been in search of the mysterious textile engine, and he has used me as his servant in that regard. I, however, have not been entirely the servant of the Company that he believes me to be.”
“So you admit your deception.”
“No one here,” he told me, “is guiltless when it comes to the crime of deceiving the East India Company. But think not that I would harm an innocent like Mr. Carmichael. Not for any cause.”
“It does make sense,” Elias offered. “Just as Mr. Baghat pretended to be ignorant and hostile, he pretended to have killed Carmichael. That he possesses a generous spirit, and is no true enemy of yours, has been demonstrated tonight.”
“What has also been demonstrated tonight is that Mr. Baghat is a skilled dissembler, and we believe him at our own hazard.” The words came out hard and fast, and as I spoke them I wondered if I remained truly suspicious or if I resented having been so soundly fooled. Or, it occurred to me, that I find it difficult to change my opinion of a man in the blink of an eye. Recognizing that I could not entirely trust my feelings in this, I softened my stance and rose briefly to bow in Aadil’s direction. “Nevertheless, it would be the wisest course to hear all you have to say and give credit to your words where I can.”
Aadil returned the bow, showing he had learned British customs as well as speech. “I appreciate your generosity.”
“It may be as much curiosity as generosity,” I said, without harshness. “Perhaps you can begin by informing me of your connection with Mr. Teaser here, and how it is that you came to his rescue so fortuitously.”
Teaser nodded gravely, as though to indicate that I had indeed chosen the right point to enter into these matters.
“It is for this gentleman here and Absalom Pepper that I came to your island in the first place. You must forgive me, sir,” Aadil said, turning to Teaser, “for I know you are kindly disposed to Mr. Pepper, and for me to say what I know I must speak ill of him.”
Teaser looked down. “It has become all too apparent to me that Owl was not the person I believed. Say what you must. I shall be no less stung for your keeping quiet.”
Aadil nodded. “Not two years ago, a low-level clerk working for his most imperial majesty, the Emperor Muhammad Shah Nasir ad Dîn, may he and his sons reign forever, received a very intriguing letter from Mr. Pepper, a letter he thought worthy of showing to his superiors, and they to theirs, and so it went until it reached the eyes of the Mogul’s top advisers. In this letter, Mr. Pepper announced that he had invented a remarkable engine, one that would enable ordinary Europeans to produce Indian-like calicoes from cottons farmed in the Americas. He had, in short, invented an engine that could damage one of my nation’s principal industries by providing it with a genuine rival.”
“So Forester was not wrong,” Elias said.
“He was not wrong to believe it could be done, though he was wrong about much else. Needless to say, the Mogul took a great interest in this project, but he believed it would be wiser to observe these matters from afar. As you know, the East India Company may well be a private trading concern, but it is so close to the British government as nearly to be a very part of it. To involve ourselves too directly might bring us dangerously close to war, and with an important trading partner too. So, instead, the Mogul dispatched agents, and to Mr. Pepper we delivered only silence.”
Elias was nodding. “So, having heard nothing from the Mogul, Pepper began to pursue matters on his own.”