The Quality of Mercy - By Barry Unsworth Page 0,27
that is soon said. The underwriters, who have authorized me to speak for them, are willing to make a private settlement. This is not because we feel our case to be weak, far from it, but to save the trouble and costs of an action. We will not dispute the number cast overboard. In view of the time gone by and the difficulty of establishing anything after such an interval, we think it reasonable to set a value of ten guineas a head on the blacks, whether male or female, it makes no difference. At the number we have been given, that would amount to eight hundred and fifty guineas. I am authorized to offer that sum in complete settlement. It is a generous offer, under all the circumstances, and I trust that you will find it satisfactory.”
“No, I do not find it satisfactory,” Kemp said, with a perceptible increase in volume and eagerness of tone. “Generous offer? Do you take me for a supplicant? Be damned to your generosity, sir.” He paused a moment, then continued more quietly, with a rigid set of the jaw. “I will have my father’s rights in full. I will have a proper settlement by process of law. That ship was my father’s. He had her built and fitted out. The blacks were purchased with trade goods he had provided at his own expense. His last days were shadowed by that loss. I will have satisfaction for his name.”
Satisfaction for his investment, the broker was inclined to think, thereby doing Kemp less than justice and demonstrating the limits of his own understanding. His eye had been on the younger man’s right fist, which had clenched during this speech and whitened to a bloodless line along the knuckles. Van Dillen was a sedentary man, thick-necked and sometimes troubled these days by shortness of breath. This passion of retribution was disquieting to him. Kemp would seek to use the surviving seamen as witnesses in support of his claim on the insurers, and afterward do his best to see them hanged …
“Well,” he said, “I see you are set on the courts.”
“It is you who talk of the courts,” Kemp said, slowly opening the fingers of his hand. “I am set on obtaining my rights.”
The broker nodded. Rights were measured with money, in his view of things. The terms were more or less interchangeable. Kemp had money in plenty, but those with money always wanted more. It was a fact of life; he had never encountered a single exception to it. All the same, he was obliged to recognize now that there was more to this than money. He knew a good deal about the man sitting opposite him; he had made it his business to know. A career meteoric, even in these days of quick fortunes. Seventy thousand pounds, Jarrold’s daughter was said to have brought him, along with a share in the bank. The old man had lost his wits, as it was said, and was kept in confinement. The bank he had founded was in Kemp’s hands now. No, there was no shortage of money in that quarter. Of course, such a man would want to win all battles. How he had discovered their whereabouts, these remnants of slaves and crew, how he had been able to track them down in the wilds of southern Florida where they had taken refuge—these were matters not yet definitely known; there were conflicting accounts. No doubt much would be made clear in the course of the capital charges at the Old Bailey …
Van Dillen’s pale, heavy face registered nothing of these thoughts as he got to his feet. “I will take my leave, sir,” he said. “I have made the offer that was agreed among us. I am sorry you do not see fit—” He faltered a moment, meeting Kemp’s gaze, then said more firmly, “I think you are making a mistake, but the arbitration of law will settle the business one way or the other.”
Kemp assented to this indifferently and accompanied his visitor to the head of the stairs that led down to the street. Returning to his office, he walked to and fro for a while, possessed by a spirit of discontent. Glancing through the thick and rippled glass of his window, he had a distorted view of rooftops and chimneys. He saw pigeons rise, their wingbeats like a stirring in some opaque and viscous fluid. The window was fixed to the wall and could