Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [291]
‘I know,’ Nicholas said at his side. His other arm was engaged with that of Mick Crackbene. ‘John the Baptist is hell for the bladder.’
They wasted no time on the journey, hurrying the seaman back to the house and quickly into the room private to Nicholas. Once there, Gregorio went and fetched Tobie and Godscalc. Both, like Julius, had known Crackbene in Trebizond. Tobie had been there in Cyprus when Crackbene had made off with the Doria, now called the Ghost. With all of them present, they had a chance of hearing the truth.
Crackbene waited until the six were sitting about him. A stolid man, he did not at once speak and Nicholas, rising, brought him wine, and then gave it to Diniz to serve. Diniz, his eyes cold, kept glancing at Crackbene. It was Gregorio who began. ‘Three years ago, you said to me in Madeira that you wished you had sailed with Nicholas, instead of with Doria. But you wouldn’t speak out for Nicholas because you thought he had killed Diniz. Am I right?’
‘I owe you something,’ said Crackbene to Nicholas. His face, after the Gambia, had remained lined, although the heavy frame had recovered. He said, ‘I told your fellow, Gregorio, that bringing home the Doria with the boy on it was nothing to do with me. It was a contract with de Ribérac, and the blame lies with him. You’d no call to take me into the ring at Sanlúcar as you did, but you got me out of prison, and you put me ashore, which was more than Doria would have done. Doria went far too far in what he did on the Gambia. I had no part in it. But I heard from his own men what had happened, and the boy knows as well. Filipe.’
‘You know where he is?’ Nicholas said. He had shown, throughout, no extraordinary excitement.
‘He was on the ship with me. When we left, I got him work. Far away from the Vatachino and the rest, I can tell you. I knew they wouldn’t trust me to keep quiet.’ He broke off. ‘Truth to tell, I was hoping you’d bring your case against them, and win it. But you haven’t.’
Gregorio said, ‘We had only Melchiorre’s account of what happened to the ship, and those of the survivors for what happened on land. It was hardly enough.’ He paused. ‘You meant to meet us. Does this mean you would testify?’
Michael Crackbene, sailing-master, heaved a great sigh. He said, ‘I can’t go on hiding for ever. They’ll find me, one of them. De Salmeton, or the Lomellini, or St Pol. Even Anselm Adorne had shares in the Fortado. I’m not safe anywhere, nor is Filipe. Protect us, and we’ll testify.’
‘Adorne!’ Nicholas said.
Crackbene looked up. ‘Why? A few shares, not like the others. He’s into most kinds of trade.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Nicholas said. ‘Of course we’ll protect you. You’ll stay here, with Filipe. No more candelabra. And let’s have this law suit over and done with. That is, you would testify also to the Doria’s origins? We have to admit she is the Ghost, but we also hope to explain that she was a prize, and belonged to us in the first place. And since she was empty, we can’t face charges of piracy.’
‘Yes,’ said Crackbene; and smiled for the first time. ‘I was sorry to hear that, considering what she carried when she left the Senagana. I dare say Ochoa de Marchena could tell you a story.’
‘If we knew where he was,’ Nicholas said.
No one spoke. Diniz, flask in hand, lifted Crackbene’s half-empty cup and filled it again. He said, ‘I wish I knew, because I’ve been offered half of it as a gift on my marriage. I’m being married quite soon.’
Crackbene looked up at him. He said, ‘She’s a lucky girl.’
‘And I’m my own man now,’ Diniz said. He sat down, his eyes still on the other’s.
Crackbene said, ‘Ochoa might know. There was a rumour. Someone said he was in Alexandria. He’d be scared, of course. Scared as I was, for other reasons.’
‘Do you think he took it?’ Gregorio said.
Crackbene pursed his lips. ‘Maybe. Maybe he’d got tired of the sea, but I don’t think so. And you can’t do that kind of thing and keep sailing. I think someone took it, and paid him to say nothing.’
‘Who?’ Nicholas said.
‘Someone who knew it was coming. Someone