Limekiller!

“Would you just step inside, Mr. Limekiller,” said Mr. P.F.E. Blythe, without a question-mark. And popped his head back in. The Stamp Acts, which had caused so many heart-flutterings and tea-bashings in British North America (old boundaries) had never disturbed a single soul in British Hidalgo, where in proposing a written contract it was proverbial to remark, “If you has the Queen’s head on a stamp, and a dollar for earnest, you cahn’t go wrong.” Limekiller now felt, dimly recollecting Mark Twain’s comment that the average man would rather see General Grant in full dress uniform than Lillian Russell naked, felt that he would much, much rather pay to see the Queen’s head on a thousand stamps than Percival FitzEvans Blythe at a window or anywhere else for free, stepped inside. And whilst doing so he encountered a licensed (so to speak) beggar commonly called Wee-Wee; Wee-Wee seldom encountered Jack without asking for a dime or a shilling or a glass of rum or a plate of rice and bean, always with a face the most ingratiating; his face now seemed to say, “I may not be six feet tall and blonde and I may be just getting out of gaol again for being publically intoxicated and Pissing on The Plinth but on the other hand neither have I just been asked by the District Officer if I would step inside.” They passed each other in a strange and strong silence.

“You wanted to see me, District Commissioner?”

The District Commissioner curtly gestured towards a chair facing him and, when Limekiller had seated himself, stared at him a moment without words, then asked, “Well, Mr. Limekiller, what about this gold?”

* * *

The shock was immense. Had he not already been suffering from a sruiltv conscience, the shock would have been even more immense and it was to be feared that he would almost at once have incriminated himself, had he not suddenly remembered Rud Goforth’s advice; “What gold?” he asked.

Another silence. Then the D.C. said, “Mr. Limekiller, anyone may bring charges and make accusations,” said the D.C. “And anyone may bear witness, true or false. But under our system of British Justice,” there was a slight but significant emphasis, British Justice, “something more is needed, and that is Evidence. Evidence openly presented in an open court at an open trial,” the word trial doing more to chill Limekiller’s blood than his sole trip to northern Labrador had done. “Mere testimony is not sufficient. We require evidence. Ev-i-dence. No evidence? No case.” He made a gesture.

Someone else now appeared, namely Police Constable Lucas; more than once P.C. Lucas had helpedjack demolish a chaparita of rum (without the herb Contribo) at a club or booth; there was no trace of any such memory on the P.C.’s face now. “Would you read your notes,” said the District Officer. Would you step inside. Would you read your notes. The District Commissioner was expert in the donning of the velvet glove. But wrell did John L. Limekiller know what lay inside.

“Acting upon information received,” read P.C. Lucas, “I w^ent in the police launch to the place called Mangrove Creek, accompanied by Mr. Stopford the District Surveyor —”

Limekiller was puzzled, for the first time, genuinely. “The, ah, Surveyor?” he interrupted.

The skies did not fall at this interruption. It was explained to him that it was well-known that the mouth of Mangrove Creek had at one time been located just inside the limits of Woodcutters Cove Town. And it was well-known that the effects of Hurricane Henrietta had closed that mouth and opened another. w'hich lay- outside the Towm limits. It was also known that Hurricane Elvia had quite estopped this and opened yet another. But it was not known if this new mouth lay in or out of the limits. “The question of mooring fees,” explained the D.C. Money.

On coming into sight of the vessel known to them as the boat Saccharissa registered as belonging to Mr. John Lutwidge Limekiller, P.C. Lucas and Surveyor Stopford observed two individuals unfamiliar to them moving about on the deck of aforesaid vessel and attempting to hand down an object not immediately identifiable to a third individual in a cayuco; did the two Officials open fire upon them? did they attempt to cut off their retreat? was the Magna Carta written in Volapiik?