'We are taking account of things. Edward and I, ' Bidwell said. He was dressed in a cardinal-red suit with a ruffled shirt, but he had fotgone the wearing of his lavish wigs. On the desktop was a rectangular wooden box about nine inches long and seven inches wide. 'I've been trying to locate you. Were you out for a walk?'
'Yes. Just walking and thinking.'
'Well, it's a pleasant day for such.' Bidwell folded his hands before him and regarded Matthew with an expression of genuine concern. 'Are you all right?'
'I am. Or... I shall be presently.'
'Good. You're a young man, strong and fit. And I have to say, you have the most determined constitution of any man I've ever met. How are your injuries?'
'My ribs still ache, but I can endure it. My arm is... deceased, I think. Dr. Shields says I may regain some feeling in it, but the outlook is uncertain.' Matthew shrugged one shoulder. 'He says he knows a doctor in New York who is doing amazing things for damaged limbs with a new surgical technique, so... who can say?'
'Yes, I hear those New York doctors are quite... um... radical. And they charge wholly radical prices, as well. What of your head wound?'
Matthew touched the fresh dressing Shields had applied just that morning. In the course of treatment, the doctor had been appalled at the Indians' method of tobacco-leaf and herb-potion healing, but also intrigued by the positive progress. 'My scar, unfortunately, will be a subject of discussion for the rest of my life.'
'That may be so.' Bidwell leaned back in his chair. 'Ah, but women love a dashing scar! And I daresay so will the grandchildren.'
Matthew had to give a guarded smile at this flattery. 'You leap ahead more years than I care to lose.'
'Speaking of your years ahead, ' Winston said, 'what are your immediate plans?'
'I haven't given them much thought, ' Matthew had to admit. 'Other than returning to Charles Town. The magistrate gave me the name of a colleague in Manhattan, and said I would find a position with him, but... I really haven't decided.'
Bidwell nodded. 'That's understandable, with so much on your mind. Tell me: do you approve of where I placed Isaac's grave?'
'I do, sir. As a matter of fact, I just came from there. It's a very lovely, shaded spot.'
'Good. And you don't think he would mind that he... uh... sleeps apart from the others in the cemetery?'
'Not at all. He always enjoyed his privacy.'
'I shall endeavor, at some point in the future, to erect a picket fence around it and a suitable marker for his excellent service to Fount Royal.'
Matthew was taken aback. 'Wait, ' he said. 'You mean... you're staying here?'
'I am. Winston will be returning to England, to work in the offices there, and I'll be going back and forth as the situation warrants, but I plan on reviving Fount Royal and making it just as grand—no, thrice as grand—as ever I'd planned before.'
'But... the town is dead. There's hardly twenty people here!'
'Twenty citizens!' Bidwell thumped the desktop, his eyes bright with renewed purpose. 'Then it's not dead, is it?'
'Perhaps not in fact, but it seems to me that—'
'If not in fact, then not at all!' Bidwell interrupted, displaying some of his old brusque self. He was aware of his slippage, and so immediately sought to soothe the friction burns. 'What I mean is, I will not give up on Fount Royal. Not when I have invested so heavily in the venture, and particularly as I still fervently believe a southernmost naval station is not only practical, but essential for the future of these colonies.'
'How will you go about reviving the town, then?'
'The same as I originally began it. With having advertising placards placed in Charles Town and other cities up the seaboard. I shall also advertise in London. And I am getting to it sooner than later, as I understand I will be having competition from my own family!'
'Competition? How so?' Matthew asked.
'My youngest sister! Who was sick all the time, and for whom I bought medicine!' Bidwell scowled. 'When Winston and I went to Charles Town to find the maskers, we also looked in on the supply situation at the harbor. Come to find out there was a whole load of supplies there those dogs had hidden from me! Luckily, Mr. Winston convinced a watchman to unlock a certain door—and imagine how I near fell to the ground to see all those crates with my name on them! Anyway, we also procured a packet of mail.' He made a queasy face. 'Tell him, Edward! I can't bear to think of it!'
'Mr. Bidwell's sister married a land speculator, ' Winston said. 'In the letter she wrote, she indicated he has purchased a sizeable amount of territory between here and the Florida country, and has hopes to begin a port settlement of his own.'
'You don't say!' Matthew said.
'Yes, it's damnably true!' Bidwell started to hammer his fist on the desk, and then decided it was not proper for his new age of enlightment. 'It'll never work, of course. That swampland down there makes ours look like a manicured showpark. And do you really think the Spanish are just going to sit still and let a half-pint, weasly milksop of a land speculator threaten their Florida country? No! He has no business sense! I told Savannah when she married that man she'd weep a tear for every pearl on her dress!' He stabbed a finger in the air like a rapier's thrust. 'Mark my words, she'll regret such a folly as she's about to enter into!'
'Uh... shall I get you something to drink?' Winston asked. 'To calm your nerves?' To Matthew, he confided, 'Mr. Bidwell's sister never fails. To antagonize, I mean.'
'No, no! I'm all right. Just let me get my breath. Oh, my heart gallops like a wild horse.' Bidwell spent a moment in an exercise of slow and steady deep breathing, and gradually the red whorls that had surfaced on his cheeks faded away. 'The point of my asking you here, Matthew, ' he said, 'is to offer you a position with my company.'
Matthew didn't respond; in truth, he was too shocked to speak.
'A position of not small responsibility, ' Bidwell went on. 'I need a good, trustworthy man in Charles Town. Someone to make sure the supplies keep flowing, and to make certain such dirtiness as has been done to me in the past is not repeated. A... uh... a private investigator, you might say. Does that sound at all of interest to you?'
It took a little while longer for Matthew to find his voice. 'I do appreciate your offer, sir. I do. But, to be petfectly honest, you and I would eventually come to blows and our fight might knock the earth off its tilt. Therefore I must decline, as I would hate to be responsible for the death of mankind.'
'Ah. Yes. Well spoken, that.' Bidwell did appear much relieved. 'I felt I should at least offer you a future, since my actions—-and stupidity—have so endangered your present.'
'I have a future, ' Matthew said firmly. 'In New York, I believe. And thank you for helping me come to that conclusion.'
'Now! That's out of the way!' Bidwell heaved a sigh. 'I wanted you to see something.' He pushed the wooden box across the desk toward Matthew. 'We searched through the foul bastard's house, just as you suggested, and found all the items you said would be there. That five-bladed device was still nasty with dried blood. And we discovered the book on ancient Egypt, as well. This box was placed in the bottom of a trunk. Open it, if you please.'
Matthew leaned forward and lifted the lid, which rose smoothly on a well-oiled hinge.
Within the box were three charcoal pencils, a writing tablet, a folded sheet of paper, a gum eraser... and...
'What he found in the spring, ' Bidwell said.
Indeed. The sapphire brooch and ruby ring were there, along with a gold crucifix on a chain, seven gold doubloons, three silver coins, and a little black velvet bag.
'You will find the bag's contents of interest, ' Bidwell promised.
Matthew took it out and emptied it on the desktop. In the sunlight that streamed through the window, the room was suddenly colored by the shine of four dark green emeralds, two deep purple amethysts, two pearls, and an amber stone. The jewels were raw and yet to be professionally polished, but even so were obviously of excellent quality. Matthew surmised they had been captured at sea from vessels shuttling between tropical mines and the marketplace.
'The folded paper is also worth a glance, ' said Bidwell.
