“Which,” Christian murmured, “suggests it was used for something.”
“And if it was,” Gervase was still studying the lists, “it wasn’t for anything good.”
“That,” Tony agreed, “is the inescapable conclusion. What we need to determine is exactly how it was used.”
Gervase nodded. “And trace it back to whoever that use benefited.”
“Precisely.” Tony paused, then asked, “Can you help?”
Gervase looked up, grinned. “I was intending to slip home for a few days. I can easily ask around in Plymouth, and along the coast there.” He met Tony’s gaze. “But you’ve more extensive contacts in the Isles and on the French side, and to the southeast on this side, I’d imagine.”
“Yes, but my problem—our problem at present—is that that information”—Tony nodded at the lists in Gervase’s hands—“is all we have. I compiled the list of ships from scattered jottings, more like reminders. Presumably the information Ruskin passed contained more detail.”
“But what detail we don’t know?” Jack asked.
“Exactly. Via the Revenue and Admiralty dispatches that passed through his hands, Ruskin had what amounted to each ship’s sailing orders, at least for their approach to our shores.” Tony looked at Gervase. “If you can find any hint of what was going on—how the information was used—I can put out feelers more widely. But given the nature of my contacts, if I ask general questions, rather than specific ones, I won’t get any answers. Worse, I might alert whoever it is that’s behind this.”
They all understood how the informant system worked; he didn’t need to explain further.
“Can I keep these?” Gervase held up the lists.
Tony nodded. “Those are copies.”
Folding the lists, Gervase slipped them into his pocket.
“I’ll ask around and see if I can find any whisper of any action involving these ships on or about those dates. If I find anything, I’ll bring it back immediately.”
“Once we have a clue what we’re dealing with, I’ll follow up more widely.”
Jack frowned. “Have you thought of inquiring via the shipping lines? If these ships are merchantmen…”
“I’ve a friend who’ll be in town in a day or so—he has a similar background to ours. He’s been out of the service for some years, but knows the game well. He also owns Hendon Shipping, one of the largest of the local lines. He has the contacts and will know how to make such inquiries without raising a dust.”
Jack nodded. “So—what did you want me to pursue?”
“Ruskin himself, and how A. C. knew him. Ruskin lived at Bledington when he was in the country. Not often, admittedly, but it’s an area we shouldn’t overlook. Given you’re the closest of us countywise, your inquisitive presence is least lik
ely to attract attention. Our ultimate aim is to identify A. C. It’s possible he’s someone who lives out that way, and that’s how he knew Ruskin, and most importantly where Ruskin worked.”
“Right.” Jack’s gaze had grown distant. “I’ll check into Ruskin’s background and see if I can turn up anyone with the initials A. C. connected in however vague a fashion with our boy.”
“While you’re up there…” Tony hesitated, then went on, “You might check on a Mrs. Carrington and her family, the Pevenseys. Their connection with Ruskin appears to be via Chipping Norton. It seems Mrs. Carrington and the Pevenseys didn’t know Ruskin, but he knew them.”
“Carrington.” Christian murmured. “That’s a C.”
“Indeed. More confusing, she’s Alicia Carrington, so she is A. C., but she married Carrington about two years ago, so wasn’t A. C. four years ago, when Ruskin first started receiving large sums from A. C. More to the point, her husband, deceased for two years, was Alfred Carrington. Although he can’t be the A. C. involved either, given the way names run in families there may be a connection with Ruskin of which Mrs. Carrington is unaware.”
“Oh, yes.” Jack nodded; for one instant, the dangerous man behind his hail-fellow-well-met cheerily handsome facade showed through. “Second cousin, third cousin, whatever. I’ll check.”
They all exchanged glances, then, as one, pushed back their chairs. They stood, stretched, resettled their coats; as they turned to the door, Christian murmured, “That shipping business sounds decidedly nasty.” He caught Tony’s eye, then glanced at the others. They were all thinking the same thing—that someone had been using the war for their own ends.
“We definitely need to learn what the information was used for, and how,” Gervase said.
“And, most importantly”—Tony followed Christian from the room—“by whom.” That, indeed, was their primary interest.
Tony returned to Upper Brook Street and spent the next few hours attending to numerous matters of business. Under his father’s hand, the Blake estates had grown considerably; he was determined that during his tenure, the family’s fortunes would continue to expand.
The activity naturally brought to mind the family—the people—that fortune was intended to support. When the clock struck two, he set aside his papers and strolled around to Green Park.