Rivers West Read Online Free Page B

of the brother in England. Carefully, I stated just what I had found, and how I had come upon the body of Captain Foulsham. I also related how I had gone through the pockets and retrieved what was there, and the money would be forwarded to him.
    Moreover, I informed him I was quite sure the murderer was either one of the party that had come along from that time to this, or that the murderer at least was known to one or more of them.
    Each I described with care, adding such fragments as might be useful, then I took it upon myself to open the oilskin packet.
    In the packet was an order for the arrest of one Baron Richard Torville, a deserter from the British army, a traitor. There was also information to the effect that Torville had been an agent for certain forces in France against Bonaparte, but that he’d committed a murder and absconded with money that did not belong to him.
    It was a long bill, listing a half-dozen crimes. A picture emerged of a man shrewd, unprincipled, and dangerous, but one with powerful connections. The title by which he was known was itself borrowed without right…there was even doubt about his name. The past of the man was shrouded in mystery.
    There was no physical description.
    Foulsham, an agent for His Majesty’s government, had somehow tracked down and located this man—and Foulsham had been murdered.
    Now I was myself in possession of information that could lead to my death.
    Putting all the papers in the packet, I returned them to my shirt and went down to the common room.
    It was empty.
    In a small study opening off the common room, I found Simon Tate, the proprietor.
    â€œSir.” I closed the door. “I have a matter of urgency and secrecy.”
    He picked up his glasses and stared at me, putting down his pen. That he was doubtful was obvious, but taking from my pocket the small stack of gold coins, I placed them on the table.
    â€œI would like a draft for those, and a receipt.”
    He eyed the money and then me. Briefly, giving only-the barest details, I told him of the body, that Captain Robert Foulsham was a man of importance, and that the money was to be returned to his family and the papers likewise.
    That Tate was a man of affairs was obvious. His questions were few and to the point, and in a matter of minutes I was leaving the study with my receipt tucked away in my wallet and the packet left to go back to England by the next post.
    Yet at the door Tate stopped me. Windbag he might seem when talking at large in the common room, but he was serious now. “This man of whom you speak,” he said quietly, “is a dangerous man. Once a man engages in political intrigue, it can become a way of life. You must ask yourself now, as I am asking, why is he
here
, in America? Such a man does not only think of escape. You can be sure he has other ideas.”
    He paused, “Mr. Talon, I must speak of this to a friend of mine.”
    This I did not like. Yet I hesitated. “What sort of friend?”
    â€œYou might say that he has the ear of those who matter, Mr. Talon. He is a man who seems of no importance, yet when he speaks, those in power listen.”
    â€œVery well then.”
    â€œA moment, Mr. Talon. You have chosen to confide in me, and you have acted…you have acted correctly, I believe. So let us talk, just for a minute.
    â€œI know too little of affairs in your country, Mr. Talon, but I would assume they are similar to ours. Let us simply say that here the people rule—but to rule is not enough. The people must also be watchful, they must care for their country and its future.
    â€œThere are many self-seekers amongst us, yet many of those are sincere patriots. Our country is growing, but there are many forces, some abroad, some within, that are dangerous to us. You know of the purchase of the Louisiana Territory?”
    â€œI have heard of it.”
    â€œIts borders are ill-defined. We have Spain for a neighbor on the