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“Not exactly. I am working for m’own end, and have m’own rules,” Hunter answered on a warning note.
Swit peered through the darkness. “Never say you want to be paid for your silence.” Clearly he was shocked by such a notion.
“Doona be daft. What ye will give me are the names.” Hunter’s voice was unflinching and certain.
“What are you asking me to do?” Swit’s hand frazzled his hair.
“Who supplied Horwich with the billets he has been shipping off to the French army and Napoleon? Who?”
“Why should I tell you that?”
“Because I will help you out of this mess, if from this night on you make up for your lack of patriotism by working to help me.”
“I want amnesty,” Swit said.
“I can’t give you that. I really am working for myself, but help me and I won’t expose the part you played with Horwich in the past. Agreed?”
“Blister it, Hunter! I…”
His lordship cut him off. “The names, Jerry.”
“Why do you care so much?”
“It is a matter of honor, doona ye feel it? The soldiers fighting with Wellington shouldn’t be betrayed. My brother is on his staff and I mean to help him find out who is the traitor.”
“Ah, your brother,” Swit said with sudden dawning.
“The name of yer connection. Doona ye see it? He is supplying the French with our military secrets and falsifying intelligence arriving from our people over there. There are some looking at m’brother and pointing a finger in his direction. We canna have that now can we?”
Swit blew out a thoughtful whistle. “Right then. His name is Bellingham, but before you get yourself all excited, he got spooked. Says he won’t deliver anything more to us. Told Horwich to deal with someone else, and I swear I don’t know the name of the new man.”
“It doesn’t matter. What about the man on Wellington’s staff?”
“I’m not sure…”
“Right then. We are going to close down the entire operation. Who was yer French connection?” his lordship asked quietly.
“Now there is the rub,” Swit answered with a frown. “My business has been land smuggling. Most of my life, I have had to engage in such. I don’t like blabbing out names. Bad for business, you know.”
“I don’t care who ye smuggle brandy with. I want the name of the man who took the billets from ye on the French side.”
“That’s just it. He was just a middleman. His mainline is brandy. We’ve been partners up and down the coast, more years than you know and longer than I’ve known Horwich.”
“Jerry, I need the name,” his lordship returned grimly.
“No. He isn’t your man. What you need is to know who Bellingham was working with in Belgium and who his contact on Wellington’s staff is. Not your brother, so do process of elimination.”
His lordship mulled this over and Jerry added, “Can I have your word to keep me out of this muddle?”
“Jerry, you deserve to be hung with the rest of them. Get in my way, betray me now, and any agreement we have will no longer exist.”
Swit eyed him consideringly and shrugged “Fair enough.” He sighed heavily. “The truth is I told Horwich I wanted out. I don’t hold with betraying my country. A little brandy. Aye, free trading we call it sure, but not this sort of thing.”
“Ye know more than ye are telling me,” his lordship accused.
“Here it is then, David was already smuggling brandy with his father, long before I met him. I liked working with the squire. He was no nonsense and oddly enough not greedy. He liked the blunt, but was easily satisfied.”
“Get to the point and no embellishments,” his lordship interjected.
