cut and the French man crashed to the pavement at last. The impact let out an unpleasant noise, coming from broken bones. He rolled on himself twice, letting agonizing sounds out, then his body turned suddenly still.
Johnny watched all that with his heart in his mouth. Wynne’s image got impressed into his retina like a fire mark. He couldn’t avoid it anymore. He could distinguish each detail: from the pirate’s unnatural position, his broken legs and his bent trunk, to his livid face, stained by the blood he had thrown out. The disgust of the execution had shown in all its horror.
“Let’s go, Johnny.” Bennet Avery was recalling him to order. “I’ve heard what I wanted to. What’s more, I don’t like all that mess.”
The boy nodded, still more shocked: the old man had seldom addressed him by his name. Besides, he had been aware of something vaguely mysterious in his attitude, a rather sinister feeling.
His fancy overwhelmed him like a river in flood, so much that it was able to wipe his perplexity away: Avery knew much more then he implied and the moment to find it out had come.
CHAPTER THREE
DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES
“Bloody hell!”
Flaring up in uncontrollable fury, Morgan overthrew all the objects crowding on his desk, included the nautical maps, an excellent workmanship sextant and the letter of marque addressed to Rogers.
“Filthy beggar!”, he barked. “He deserved a much worse suffering!”
The corsair was sitting in front of him on a damask sofa, showing a certain amount of indifference.
“With all due respect…”, he tried to speak.
“Shut up!”, the governor interrupted him.
A very long and deep silence followed, marked only by the man’s panting breathing. Rogers preferred not to reply. It would be better to wait till he calmed down, to pursue his own interests.
Wynne’s revelations had helped to undermine Morgan’s already bad reputation among the colonizers. His political career and his high-ranking connections had been quite useless. And the fact that they paid a deferential respect to him just hid an etiquette made of hypocrisy and respectability. As if that wasn’t enough, the rumour about the treasure was certainly spreading around Port Royal. It wasn’t going to take long to get to impudent ears.
When King George gets to know you’re financing pirate expeditions for your own business, you will get into serious trouble, Rogers thought. His feigned indifference wasn’t certainly due to a lack of interest. The question was very serious, but he could take advantage of it anyway.
“How can you keep impassive?”, Morgan asked him tightening his fists till his knuckles turned white.
He got up, without answering. He wanted to weigh up carefully the words he should utter, in order to avoid making Morgan rage still more and, at the same time, to let him understand that guys like that should be handled by the right firmness. He started walking up and down the room.
“With all due respect”, he said again, “I think that reacting in this way is really useless. Wynne has already pilloried your business.”
“And do you think that’s an unimportant matter?”
“I absolutely do.”
“He mocked us all!”, Morgan barked.
“That’s not true”, Rogers showed an histrionic, but also affected scorn. “He had fun outsmarting only you, your Excellency. So, shouting at a dead man won’t solve the question. Did you believe you had the matter under control? You were wrong!”
The governor blushed deeply, his mouth turning into a very thin line. His melted make-up made him look much more grotesque than usual. His eyes seemed to pop out of his head.
When he saw him like that, Rogers could hardly hold back a very satisfied smile.
“Unless you are ready to make a choice”, he suggested. “I mean…” and he willingly stopped talking. He pretended to be wondering, pressing his forefinger on his lips. He wanted his gesture to look like something which was helping him to think over in some way. In fact, he started supposing: You’ve lost control of the situation, Henry. You must acknowledge it. That pirate really played a bad trick on you. He might have been really crazy. Or not. Who can say?
“Come on!”, Morgan urged him exacerbated. He started rubbing his temples.
“I can bring our departure a couple of days forward”, Rogers started. “That could help us spare time, even if that would mean a change in our agreement. The crew won’t almost certainly take it very well.”
“If money is the problem…”, the governor ventured.
“The question concerns the treasure.” The corsair picked up a letter of marque from the floor and waved it before his eyes, then he slipped it into his pocket.
“Everything you want!” Morgan knocked his hands on the desk. “We must get there before anyone else. Getting quickly started could save us from the humiliation and make us avoid troubles with His Majesty.”
“He won’t get to know it. Even if the news should get to the Court, there are no real proofs. What’s more, the Devil’s Triangle has always been considered as a legend.”
“You’re right about it.”
“And even if rumours should spread out about you paying a pirate crew, what could you be accused of for an engagement like that? The last member of Bellamy’s crew died a few hours ago.”
“So what?”
“The price we have agreed on is the right one.” Roger’s statement wanted to get the double aim of making his interlocutor calm down and focusing his attention on what he was going to say. “But I’ll demand eight parts out of one hundred, to ensure my loyalty and my men’s one.”
“You are crazy!”, Morgan burst out, looking as if he was going to faint.
“My mind hasn’t been more sane in all my life!"
“This is a theft!”
“Take it or leave it.”
“Let’s say four parts”, the governor proposed.
“You’re a mean man, Excellency.” The corsair shrugged. “You’re hurting my pride, when you consider me just four parts worth. Remember this: if the expedition is successful, you won’t even be forced to share the booty with the King.”
“Five parts, captain. And we’ll stop talking about it.”
“With just five parts, I can’t grant you that nobody will go around and tell this story.”
“So, let’s agree on six.”
“Seven!”
Morgan kept still, his elbows laying on the table and his fingers crossed before himself. “Okay”, he finally agreed. “Seven.”
“You are a wise man.” Rogers reached out his hand and waited for the other man to return his gesture, even if unwillingly. When Morgan did it, he held his hand tight, placing it on his own. “With your leave, I wish to advance one more request.”
“Another one?”
“After all these years spent serving the Crown, I think I deserve something more than a simple letter of marque. For that reason, I’d like to be rewarded by the allocation of some lands and by a title recognized by His Majesty.”
“Do you mean a political rise?”
“Exactly!”
“Independently of the expedition being profitable?”
Rogers nodded.
“As you wish”, Morgan finished,