Why Mermaids Sing

the rope around his neck. He kept swearing the men who testified at his trial were lying.”

Sebastian sat forward. “Lying? About what?”

Oldfield shrugged. “I don’t recall now. It had nothing to do with me.” He scratched thoughtfully at the skin behind one ear. “But I do remember the man had a brother, a docker. He was there at the trial and at the hanging. Swore he’d see that the buggers paid for his brother’s death.”

“See that who paid?”

“Why, those who testified at the trial, of course.”

“And who was that?”

Oldfield smiled. “Bellamy. Stanton. Carmichael.” The smile slipped. “But not Thornton.” He looked confused. “At least, I don’t think Thornton was there.”

“Who else?” asked Sebastian, even as Oldfield turned to glance out the window.

The man didn’t answer.

Sebastian raised his voice and tried again. “Who else was at the trial?”

Oldfield swung his head to stare directly at Sebastian. The watery blue eyes widened with confusion. “What trial?”

Sebastian found Tom outside the prison, walking the chestnuts up and down the lane.

“Learn anythin’?” Tom asked as Sebastian leapt up to the curricle’s seat.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I’m afraid Mr. Oldfield’s misfortunes have addled his brain.” Sebastian took the reins. “I want you to find someone for me. A docker by the name of Parker. He had a brother hanged four years ago for the mutiny on the Harmony.”

Tom stepped back from the horses’ heads, one hand coming up to hold his hat in place. “You think he might be the cove what’s been doin’ the killin’?”

“He could be. Then again, he could also be a simple figment of Mr. Wesley Oldfield’s imagination.”

Sebastian gathered his reins. He knew a powerful urge to confront both Lord Stanton and Sir Humphrey Carmichael with what he had learned. Yet it would be a mistake, he knew, to approach either man now, before he’d learned the full story of the Harmony’s final voyage.

It was time, Sebastian realized, for another visit to the Reverend Thornton in Kent.

Chapter 36

Returning from her ride with Devlin, Kat tore up her half-written note to the Irishman Aiden O’Connell and burned the scraps.

It had occurred to her that sending any written communication—no matter how carefully composed—would be folly. The danger of such a note falling into the hands of Jarvis’s agents were simply too high.

She had just over twenty-four hours left. Closing her writing desk with a snap, she went to change into a walking dress of straw-colored lawn decorated with plaiting at the bodice and waist and set out to track down the Irishman herself.

The spymaster continued to be elusive. But as she mingled with a crowd of well-dressed onlookers cheering their favorite teams in the summer’s last regatta on the Thames, Kat found herself in the company of Russell Yates, ex-privateer and former owner of the ill-fated Harmony.

For a woman with Kat’s talents, it was easy enough to maneuver herself next to Yates and engage him in conversation. He was an imposing figure, tall and large boned, with broad shoulders and a solid physique he kept well honed at Jackson’s and Angelo’s. He wore the buff-colored breeches, striped silk waistcoat, and dark blue morning coat of a gentleman, but he still looked like a pirate, with his hawkish nose, sun-darkened skin, and dark hair he kept just a shade too long.

“I saw you at Covent Garden last night,” he said, the gold hoop in his left ear catching the light as he bowed over her hand. “I must say, you make a charming shrew. But then you also make a regal Cleopatra and an incomparable Juliet.”

Kat smiled. “We’re considering doing Othello next. I thought of you when I read the text. You owned a ship that was lost at sea, did you not? The Helpmate or the Handsome or some such thing.”

He lifted a glass of wine from the tray of a servant who hovered at his elbow and took a slow sip. “The Harmony. Singularly inappropriately christened ship, considering its fate.”

“You’ve heard the rumors, I suppose? That these grisly murders are somehow linked to the ship’s ordeal?”

“No. I hadn’t heard any talk. But I’m not surprised. Devilish business, that. Frankly, I’m glad the ship sank off Portugal. It would have been impossible to crew with that kind of history, and then what would I have done with it?”

A cool breeze from the river flapped Kat’s straw hat. She put up one hand to steady it. “The ship was insured, was it?”

Yates laughed. “Oh, yes. I believe in insurance—unlike Wesley Oldfield, poor sod.”

“Oldfield?”

“The Harmony carried a shipment of his tea. Lost it all. Third cargo in as many months. Turned his brain, I’m afraid—that and the accommodations in the Marshalsea, I suppose.”

A shout went up from among the crowd of spectators. Kat swung to look out over the water, to where the lead crew was fighting hard to maintain their advantage, the spray from their oars sparkling in the sunshine. “Was Oldfield a passenger on the Harmony?”

“Oldfield? No.”

She glanced back at the man beside her. “Were you?”

A slow smile spread across his pirate face. “You know, I’m getting the distinct impression you engaged me in conversation this afternoon for the sole purpose of learning everything you could about the Harmony.”

“Acute of you,” said Kat, returning his smile.

He laughed, then abruptly sobered. “It’s because of Devlin, I suppose. I’ve heard he’s looking into these murders. I must admit, I didn’t think about the possible connection to the Harmony when it was just Carmichael and Stanton. But now that they’ve found Captain Bellamy’s son dead, as well…”

Kat studied his handsome, sun-darkened face. “Do you have sons, Mr. Yates?”

“No. Thank God, considering the circumstances.” He brought one hand to his chest and gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve never yet found a woman to steal my heart.”

She laughed politely, as she was meant to do, then said, “Who else died on that ship besides Lord Jarvis’s son, David?”

“Let me see…” Yates dropped his hand to his side and stared thoughtfully out over the river. “Two or three of the crew were killed in the storm, I believe; the rest either died under some African’s spear or at the end of a rope. But that’s it. The ship’s log was lost in the wreckage, so there’s no real record.”

“None of the other passengers died?”

He shook his head. “There were only some half a dozen besides Stanton and Carmichael. And no, I don’t recall their names,” he added when she opened her mouth to ask exactly that. “You know, if you ever tire of the stage, you ought to consider applying at Bow Street. You’re a natural.”

“It’s my understanding they don’t employ females.”

“More fool they. I’ve heard Aiden O’Connell say no one can ferret out information faster or more reliably than a female. I’m beginning to think he’s right.”

Kat brought her wandering attention back to his face. It seemed a strange thing for him to have said, and she wasn’t convinced it was as offhand as it sounded. “You’re acquainted with Aiden O’Connell?”

A light gleamed in his eyes, then was gone in an instant. “We’ve been known to do business together.”

Kat kept her voice casual and disinterested. “Has he left town? I haven’t seen him for a few days.”

“Not that I’m aware of. Do you intend to hound him about the Harmony as well? If