‘What, then, would be your reaction to knowing that a trained surveyor who is later to give us the benefit of his expert knowledge will declare that in his opinion the decks had been washed?’
Deveau was perspiring freely, his hands moving nervously in front of him.
‘I can only repeat that there was no active washing or scraping when I was in command. Of course, during the time it took us to reach Gibraltar, the decks would have been awash from the sea.’
‘Awash from the sea,’ said Flood, isolating the evidence for fresh disbelief.
‘What about boats?’ he asked suddenly, urging the man on.
‘There were no boats. Through the stern davits there was a spar, from which I inferred she had not carried a boat there; when there is no boat on the stern davits, it is the custom to keep them steady by lashing through a spar.’
‘Where would she have carried her boat then?’
‘It was possible to see where the boat had been lashed across the main hatch. There were no lashings remaining. Nor was there any block or tackle, to show that she had been launched that way.’
‘How, then, would a boat be got into the water?’
‘The crew could have manhandled her over the rail. I do not think it would have been a difficult thing to do.’
‘Why would a boat have been launched in this way?’
‘The need to quit the vessel in a hurry.’
‘Apart from the disarray in which you say you found things, was the Mary Celeste seaworthy?’
‘Completely so.’
‘More so than a lifeboat?’
‘Of course,’ said Deveau, as if the question were ridiculous.
‘What, then, would have caused an experienced captain and crew to hurl their boat over the rail, without bothering with block and tackle, abandoning a seaworthy craft for something less safe?’
‘There must have been a sudden panic’
‘A panic sufficient for the seamen to flee without boots, oilskins or pipes?’
‘That must be the conclusion,’ said Deveau, his discomfort growing.
‘Captain Briggs, so fond of his family that he even took them upon voyage with him, must have been severely panicked to risk the life of a small child in an open boat, mustn’t he?’
‘That must be the presumption.’
‘Mustn’t it also be the presumption that the only thing which would have caused such panic would be terror… the sort of terror, for instance, that would have been inculcated by a boarding party carrying axes and wielding swords…?’
‘I must protest!’ erupted Pisani, rising from his bench. ‘This is not questioning… it’s hypothesis of the most outrageous kind. How can this witness possibly assist with such speculation?’
Cochrane nodded, looking almost regretfully towards the Attorney-General.
‘I am as determined as you, Mr Flood, to discover the circumstances of this apparent tragedy,’ he said. ‘But I think there could be a little more moderation in the examination.’
Flood twitched his head in bird-like acknowledgment of the rebuke, keeping the annoyance from his face.
‘Tell us of the rigging,’ he said shortly.
‘It was in very bad order,’ said the witness. ‘The standing rigging was all right. The fore-topsail and upper fore-topsail were gone, I think blown from the yards. The lower fore-topsail was hanging by its four corners. The main staysail was hauled down and lying loose on the galley and forward hatch, as if it had been collapsed. The jib and fore-topsail were set. All the other sails were furled. The rigging on the port side was broken. The starboard lower topsail brace was broken, the main peak halyard was broken and the gear of the foresail all broken.’
‘How do you imagine this damage came about?’
‘The only explanation must be that she had been cast about for a considerable time without anyone to man her or properly trim her sails.’
‘Cast about, without anyone to trim her sails,’ repeated Flood. ‘Yet when you discovered her, the Mary Celeste although sailing back upon herself, was pursuing the course to be expected for her destination. Isn’t that strange?’
‘Yes, sir, it is.’
‘Inexplicable, in fact?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘What explanation do you advance, for such a thing?’
‘I can’t, sir.’
‘Any more than you can account for the axe slash to the deck rail or the bloodstaining to the sword blade or the evidence which must surely indicate a most violent fracas?’
‘No, sir.’
‘I have a question to put to you… perhaps the most important of this whole examination and I want you to consider it fully before attempting to answer…’
He paused. He could sense the apprehension in the other man.
‘I must ask you whether the evidence you have given this enquiry is as complete as it could be. Is there nothing you feel able to volunteer that could help this enquiry to arrive at the solution of this mystery?’
Flood glanced towards the advocates’ bench, half-expecting another protest from Pisani, but the lawyer representing the salvors remained seated. Even so, Deveau responded quicker than Flood had expected.
‘I have told this enquiry everything that I honestly felt would help,’ he said.
‘Honestly?’ picked up Flood, seizing the word.
‘Yes, sir,’ said Deveau defiantly. ‘Absolutely honestly.’
‘Were there not men aboard the Mary Celeste when you came upon her, men whom you expected to encounter?’
Deveau frowned, in apparent confusion.
‘I’ve told you the ship was abandoned… deserted — ’
‘And I am asking you if that is true.’
‘Yes, sir!’
‘You are the first mate of the Dei Gratia?’
‘Yes.’
‘But Captain Morehouse permitted you the captaincy of the salvage crew?’
‘Although sailing as a first mate, I have obtained my master’s certificate.’
Flood smiled, as if the answer were illuminating.
‘So you will shortly seek a captaincy?’
‘That is, of course, my ambition.’
‘Would money assist that ambition?’
‘Money?’
‘Yes, sir. Money,’ repeated Flood. ‘Money which would be useful in some share purchase, for instance in a ship-owning firm?’
‘I have not considered such a course,’ said Deveau.
‘It is your hope, is it not, to receive a substantial award for the salvage of the Mary Celeste?’
‘I seek what the enquiry considers I have earned in bringing this vessel, laden with a cargo still dischargeable, to a port of safety,’ said Deveau formally.
Flood stood quite unmoving and did not speak for several moments.
Finally he said, ‘I wonder, Mr Deveau, what the view of this enquiry will be about the just reward for what you did regarding the Mary Celeste?’
Deveau made as if to speak, but Flood went on, preventing him:
‘Having concluded my cross-examination of this witness for the time being, I seek permission to recall Captain Winchester…’
Captain Winchester would have long ago realised that the earlier impression of unpreparedness was a courtroom trick, so Flood abandoned that demeanour. He began instead with an immediate forcefulness that he calculated would jar the ship-owner:
‘You knew Captain Morehouse?’
‘Through the letter of introduction sent me by Captain Briggs I have made his acquaintance.’
‘How did the character of Captain Morehouse impress itself upon you?’
‘Captain Briggs described him in his letter to me as an excellent mariner, a first-class sailor. My initial impression was that it was a good assessment.’
‘You liked him?’
‘Yes.’
‘And determined to find a position for him?’
‘Our discussion did not reach such a stage.’
‘What stage did it reach, Captain Winchester?’
The ship-owner shrugged. ‘Like most first interviews, little more than the establishing of contact.’
‘Just the establishing of contact,’ repeated Flood. ‘No discussion of how finance might be raised, to enable the admittedly ambitious Captain Morehouse to attain his own vessel?’
‘No.’