Chapter 6: A Letter for Emily

The sun was rising when the Captain finally left Victor's house.

He had walked only two or three dozen paces down the street when he felt the old familiar symptoms coming on. Frantically, Walter looked around for a place to stop.

He found it two houses away: a covered porch with a pair of sturdy-looking chairs. He breathed a blessing upon the owner of the house and pressed on towards them. He was able to make it with a minute, maybe two, to spare before the attack struck him with its full force.

When the episode was finally over, the Captain was soaked with sweat, and there was the taste of iron in his mouth. The hand that he raised to his mouth came away bloody; he had bitten his lip again.

Walter wiped it off as best he could, then he slumped back on the chair to regain his strength.

Five minutes later he was still resting when he spotted a familiar profile coming towards him. As quickly as he could manage, the Captain pushed himself off the chair and painfully moved around the corner of the house. He stayed out of sight until the man passed, then he carefully poked his head around the corner to see where the intruder went.

Sure enough, the man walked directly to the Van Dort house and knocked on the door. A face appeared at the side window and a few seconds later the door opened and the Solicitor walked inside. The door shut behind him.

The Captain swore quietly to himself and kept watch on the house. When the visitor left a few minutes later, Walter waited until he was safely gone, and then he himself departed in the opposite direction, towards the inn.

It was still too early in the morning for the inn to be open, but the Captain had nowhere else to go and he needed a quiet place to think.

As he'd hoped, the girl was already there, getting set up for the day. She spotted him at the door and hurried over to let the Captain in, locking the door behind him.

"Good morning to you, Captain Barrett. I'm just about to put the tea on."

"Ah, Katie, you're a darlin'," he teased. "Will you marry me?"

She laughed. "You say that to all the girls... "

He grinned back. "Maybe so - but for you, I actually mean it."

"You're bad!" she giggled, and then she scurried off to fetch the kettle.

She came back ten minutes later with the tea, some honey, and a slice of toast.

The Captain smiled at Katie and then contemplated his toast. He had been feeling poorly lately and this day wasn't going to be any better. With a sigh he pushed away the plate and focused on his tea. First one spoonful of honey, and then another. His nourishment for the day...

Walter lingered over his tea, and then he pulled out his pipe. He was able to take only a puff or two before he had to put it away again.

The Captain sighed. Not being able to eat anymore was bad enough, but not being able to smoke - now that was intolerable...

He mulled over his next move, and then he consulted his pocket watch. Good. Young Van Dort should be at his office by now. It was time to pay the lad another visit...

He was able to make the trip with only one attack en route.

Victor, of course, was there at his office. He was apologetic. "I'm sorry, Captain Barrett" he said, "but this is not the best of times…"

"I can see that," the Captain replied. "But what I have to tell you might change that. You see, it concerns your friend, the Solicitor."

"He's no friend of mine," Victor snapped.

"Aye," replied the Captain. "It had been my hope to warn you off from doing business with him. I've had dealings with him in the past, you see, and I can assure you from first-hand experience that he's not a man you'd want to trust..."

"I've had that experience myself," sighed Victor. "Just this morning..."

The Captain nodded. "I know," he said. "I saw him come and go at your house. Would you care to fill me in on the details? I might be able to help you."

"I don't know how you could possibly help," Victor said. "But it can't do any harm now, I guess..."

The Captain took the papers from Victor and looked them over for several long minutes. "He's got you on a technicality," Walter said, at last. "It may be morally wrong, but he is legally justified."

"But it doesn't make sense," Victor said

"Oh? Why not?"

"He loses money if he calls in the loan - a lot of it. At least that's what Finis told me."

The Captain snorted. "I wouldn't believe a word that that old fool ... "

Then he stopped and took another look at the paperwork, scratching his head as he worked his way through the numbers again. Finally, he lowered the papers and shook his head.

"I thought I'd never live long enough to say this … but your idiot father-in-law is right for a change - it doesn't make sense."

Victor looked at the Captain, new hope in his eyes.

"It just doesn't make sense..."

Walter scratched his head again and thought hard. "I know this character - he never does anything unless he can make a buck."

He paused. "There's something here that he wants - badly ... But what can it be...?" The Captain looked around.

"What are you looking for?" Victor asked.

"There's got to be something here," Walter answered. "Something that's worth a lot to him..."

"Do you have jewels, or art, or some other valuables around here, maybe in your safe?" he asked Victor.

The younger man laughed bitterly and shook his head. "If we did, we wouldn't have needed the loan in the first place."

"Well, he's after something," the Captain muttered. "But what?"

He tried another angle. "Is there anything here that belongs to somebody else? Something that you could be holding for a third party? Money, or bonds, or perhaps valuable papers of some kind?"

"Nothing at all like that," Victor answered. "The only things we have in the safe that don't belong here are some old papers and stuff that were among Barkis's effects. The ones my wife Victoria inherited after he died..."

"Oh - that could be something," the Captain commented. "Do you know what they were?"

Victor shook his head. "I never had anything to do with them … never wanted to … Father handled everything."

"Do you mind if I take a look?" the Captain asked.

"No, be my guest," Victor said. "I'll go get them..."

"And, if you don't mind, I need to go outside for some fresh air," Walter said.

He managed to make it to the outhouse at the back of the building with two or three minutes to spare...

A half hour later, pale and sweaty, Walter was back in the Van Dort company office.

"Is everything all right?" Victor asked him. "You don't look well."

"Just a touch of dyspepsia," replied the Captain. "Now - where are those papers?"

Victor held them out. "Here."

The old man dumped them out on Victor's desk and he began to sort through them. Most of the papers were trash, and these he piled off to the side. The more promising ones he kept neatly arranged on top of the desk.

He had gone about two-thirds of the way through the collection when he found it.

"Well, hello, there," the Captain said and he held up a small blue slip of paper.

Victor leaned over for a closer look. "What did you find?" he asked.

"We're getting close," said the Captain. "Look at the names on that cheque."

The younger man looked at the paper. "Barkis Bittern." Then he looked at the other name. "The Solicitor!" he exclaimed.

The Captain nodded. "I'd like to know why our solicitor friend wrote mister..." He looked at the scrap of paper. "...'Bittern' ... such a large cheque."

He looked quickly through the remainder of the papers, pulled out a light brown envelope and then pointed at the name written on the front.

Victor looked. "The Solicitor..."

"Let's take a look," said the Captain. He cut open the envelope, pulled out the papers, and then began to read them. As he skimmed through, his eyes widened until finally he put the papers down and closed his eyes. He paused to rub them with the heels of his hands, then he sighed and stuffed everything back into the envelope.

"What is it?" Victor asked, reaching for it.

The Captain placed a hand on top of the envelope, blocking Victor's access to it.

"You don't want to know," he said.

Victor reached again for the envelope and again Walter blocked him. "Trust me, Victor" he said. "You definitely do not want to know about this."

"Why not?" asked Victor.

The Captain ignored his question.

"I'll seal these," he said. "They'll be the key to keeping this man out of your life."

"Are you sure?" Victor fretted.

The Captain paused and looked directly at him. "One way, or another, your 'Solicitor' problems are going to be solved. We'll leave it up to him to decide exactly how..."

He pulled out his sealing wax and seal and, a minute later, the envelope was sealed again. When he was done the Captain looked at Victor again. "Under no circumstances are you nor any other member of your family to read these. Ever. For your own safety ... do I make myself clear?"

"I – I guess so," Victor said reluctantly. "Do you think my father knew … about this?"

Walter nodded. "I'm guessing that he did, and that would be why he never told you."

"So - what do I do now?" Victor asked.

"Do this," the Captain said. He looked through the rejected papers until he found a suitable scrap piece, and then he turned it over and began to write.

Victor watched as the Captain wrote out the directions, then he took it from Walter's hand and read it through.

"Does it make sense to you? Do you understand it?" the older man asked.

Victor nodded.

"Good," Walter said. "It's time for me to go and have a heart-to-heart chat with our mutual friend."

"Thank you," Victor said.

"Not at all," said the Captain. "That's what family is for. Good-bye, Victor"

"See you later, Captain Barrett."

Walter shook hands quickly with Victor and then he left.

The Captain walked back to the inn. In front of the place a bored looking boy, maybe eight or nine years of age, was whitewashing the fence as slowly and as with little effort as he could manage. "You, boy!" Walter called out. "How would you like to make a few shillings?"

The speed with which the young lad dropped his brush and ran up to the Captain indicated that he was very interested…

The old man held out a pair of coins. "Do you know the Solicitor?" he asked the boy.

"Why, of course I do," he replied. "Everybody does."

"Good," said the Captain. "Have him here within the hour and there'll be three more shillings for you. Tell him that Captain Barrett wishes to see him. And that it's urgent."

"Yes, sir!" the boy answered and he ran off as fast as his skinny legs could carry him.

The Solicitor showed up at the inn forty minutes later. "What can I do for you?" he asked cautiously.

"I have a business proposition for you," the Captain answered.

"I'm listening," the Solicitor said. "But make it quick - I'm a busy man..."

"I'd like to buy the Van Dort loan from you."

The Solicitor shook his head. "Quite impossible, I'm afraid."

"Anything is possible for the right price," replied the Captain. He reached into his folder and pulled out a cheque.

"There," he said. "This should be adequate compensation."

The Solicitor glanced at the small bit of paper and shook his head.

"'I don't take cheques," he said. "And that's not the full amount due. There's penalties, and interest, and... "

"You'll take this one," the Captain said. He smiled - a cold grim smile. "Paid in full. Like it says on the cheque. And I want the receipt."

The Solicitor shook his head and sighed. A faux sigh. "I can't do that, Captain Barrett. I have to hold to the terms, the same as anybody else. Now where would I be if I started changing the terms? Nothing personal against Mr. Van Dort, but business, sir, is business." Then he named a new, much higher, number.

"Indeed it is, sir," the Captain agreed. "I'll revise the amount." He picked up the cheque and tore it in two.

The Solicitor smiled to himself. This was a good start...

The Captain pulled out his book and his fountain pen. He dipped the nib, and then filled in the new cheque.

With feelings of smug satisfaction, the Solicitor watched him write. Then he leaned over to double-check the amount.

"What! Are you mad, sir?" he sputtered. "That's only half the previous amount - barely the principal - why, the interest alone ... "

The Captain held up his hand to cut him off.

"That one was business," he said. "And now you've made it personal... "

The Solicitor glared at him.

Walter ignored him. He opened his brown leather folder and pulled out a sheaf of papers.

"Do these look familiar to you?" he asked, holding them out for the other man to see.

The Solicitor's face turned gray. "Where did you get those?" he croaked.

The Captain shook his head. "The question is not where I got them - but what I should do with them next…"

The Solicitor stared at the papers in stark horror. "What ... what do you want?"

The Captain pointed at the slip of paper on the table. "Take the cheque. Make out the receipt out to 'Victor Van Dort: Paid in Full'. Then, never ... ever ... trouble the Van Dort family in any way, ever again."

"But ... how can I trust you?" the Solicitor asked.

Walter laughed mirthlessly. "That's a good one, coming from the likes of you. As far as you're concerned ... you wouldn't want to trust me. But you can trust young Van Dort."

"What do you mean?"

The Captain put the papers back into his folder. "He will keep them safe … in a place well beyond your reach. Upon the occasion of your death, he burns them unread. And if, by chance, you decide not to honor our agreement ..."

"Alright, alright," the Solicitor said. "I'll take your damned cheque." Then he snatched it up and then hastily scribbled out a receipt, which he threw back on the table.

"Are you happy now, you vicious old bastard?" he snapped.

The Captain shook his head. "Happiness for me would be to see you swinging from a gallows. But I'm a tired old man, and I'll settle for this ..."

"Pirate!" the Solicitor spat. Then he scurried away.

The Captain leaned back, closed his eyes, and smiled to himself. It had been a long time since he'd felt this satisfied...

The rest of the morning went well for Walter: he was able to keep down an entire slice of toast and get in a couple of good smokes with the pipe.

At noon precisely the constable walked into the inn to take his lunch. The Captain caught his eye, and the man strode over to the table to say hello.

After some small talk, the Captain asked the constable for a favor. "Do you mind if I walk with you as far as the bank?" he asked.

"Making a deposit, are you?"

The old man nodded once.

The constable nodded. "If you don't mind waiting for me to have my lunch..."

"I've got all day," Walter said.

As he waited for the other man, the Captain decided to make use of the extra time. He pulled out his pen and a fresh sheet of paper and he wrote out a short note in jagged, shaky longhand:

Dear Emily,

By the time you get this letter I'll be gone. You've been a good friend to me & I enjoyed our days on the beach. Thank you most of all for the picture - it is very special to me & maybe some day your Papa will tell you why. Don't forget to make time for your Papa & don't let him forget to make time for you. Keep drawing the pictures - you're good at it. God bless you & keep you.

Your old friend, the Captain

Walter Barrett

He read it over and decided that it would do. On the front of a new envelope he scribbled a note to Victor and then he placed the letter inside and sealed it.

At the usual time, the constable was finished with his lunch. It was time to go.

On their way to the bank they passed the Solicitor and his two favorite bully-boys as they idled at the mouth of an alley around the corner from the bank. Walter smiled a wide friendly smile at the scowling man as they walked by.

"I could wait for you at the bank if you like," the constable offered, looking back at the men.

The Captain nodded. "I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

Ten minutes later his business was concluded and he left the bank in company with the constable. Walter looked toward the alley, but the Solicitor and his friends were gone.

"Maybe they're attending to some honest work," the constable commented. Then the two men laughed.

The constable walked Walter all the way home and then he left to continue his rounds.

'It's good to be home again' the Captain thought. It had been a good night, but he was tired and needed to rest.

His happy mood ended when he felt the old familiar warning deep in his gut. Quickly, without wasting any time, he crept to his bunk and dropped wearily onto it, bracing himself for the next attack.

It was longer and deeper than usual, but he was able to ride it out. But two minutes later, another one came. And this one was much worse...

The attack didn't come in waves this time, but swept over him like a single tremendous solid wall of pain and nausea. Oh god, he prayed, make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop...