Violating the Pirate Code

Written by Nicholas Lovell, Published on 11/26/2008, Re-published on 5/12/2010

“Quartermaster!”

Captain Robert’s bellow was usually loud enough to be heard in the maintop, even in a three-reef gale. Today, with the Jackdaw becalmed and wallowing in the Atlantic swell, the noise was deafening.

Elijah Fairfax hastened up the companionway to the quarterdeck.

“Captain?”

“Someone has broken the Code,” Roberts pointed into the cabin of the recently-captured Jackdaw. “One of those scurvy dogs stole for themselves. Ye know the rules. You steal from one, you steal from all. Root out this vile dog. Root him out, and I’ll make him pay.”

Fairfax stepped into the cabin that once belonged to the captain of the Jackdaw. This captain and his crew were to be sold as slaves in Whydah, and his sloop would become the latest addition to Robert’s pirate fleet.

After the blazing heat of the equatorial sun, the cabin was dark and cool. Fairfax stood on the threshold, letting his eyes adjust. There was not much to see: a cot, a table and chair to port. To starboard, a chest and a row of shelves with fiddles to stop the contents from sliding around in rough seas. On the chest stood a small casket, its lock prised open and its interior empty and bare.

“Pieces of eight!” Fairfax jumped and swore when he cracked his head on the low beams. He reached for the cutlass at his side, eyes searching the source of the cry. He relaxed when he saw an African Grey parrot perched near the head of the cot, which was quite a prize. A talking parrot could fetch a pretty penny in the markets.

A strange scent caught his attention. Orange blossom? This far from shore? He wrinkled his nose, turning his head from side to side. There. By the casket. White powder on the floor. And there, scuffed in the dust, a pair of boot prints.

Fairfax turned and went back outside. Roberts was pacing the quarterdeck, his dark brows furrowed. The crew busied themselves in the waist, out of earshot of the quarterdeck, desperate to avoid catching the captain’s eye when he was in one of his black moods.

“Well, have ye found ‘em yet,” he snapped.

“Not yet,” said Fairfax. “Do you know what was in the casket?”

“Of course I know. A necklace of diamonds and rubies. Lots of them. And two earrings to match. Made by the very jeweler to Queen Anne herself. Worth a king’s ransom. The fool tried to buy his freedom with those jewels.” Roberts shook his head, “As if we wouldn’t just take what we want anyway.”

“And when did you last see them?” asked Fairfax.

“Just before I rowed back to the Ranger,” said Roberts. “That was about two hours ago. And in that time, someone’s been a-thievin’. Find out who went into the cabin, and who stole the necklace, Quartermaster. And do it quickly. I ain’t a patient man!”

Rapid enquiries amongst the fearful crew revealed that four men had been in the cabin in the captain’s absence. Fairfax sat in the chair in the captain’s cabin and called them in one by one.

“I ain’t no thief,” said Mr Arbuthnot, the ship’s carpenter. “I came in ‘ere to check for structural damage from the dustup, so I did. And when I ain’t found none, I left.”

“And yet the casket was broken into and a necklace stolen,” said Fairfax. “Child’s play for a man with your skills. And tools.”

“I’m tellin’ you, it weren’t me,” bridled Arbuthnot.

A shrill squawk rent the air. “Pretty necklace. Pretty necklace.” Both men glanced at the African parrot. “Mine. Mine.”

“Will that be all?” asked the carpenter. Fairfax nodded and Arbuthnot levered himself out of the chair and stepped out of the cabin, his wooden leg thumping on the deck with each step.

A timid boy, barely fourteen-years-old, took his place. “What were you doing in this cabin, Will?”

“Looking for new shirts for the captain, Mr Fairfax, sir.” Will held his neckerchief in his hands and twisted it. “I done nothing wrong.”

“New shirts?”

“Aye," said Will. “The captain, he keeps getting sword cuts in his good silk shirts. I was looking to see if there were any here.”

“And did you find any?”

“No sir. The captain came back, yelled at me to hurry up or I’d miss the boat back to the Ranger. Startled me something awful, he did.”

“And after he startled you, what did you do then?”

“Went straight out the door just behind the captain,” said Will. “It ain't wise to keep the captain waiting.”

“So you didn’t steal the necklace?”

“Oh no sir. I’m a pirate,” said the boy, his chest puffed out. “I would never break the Code.”

Feeling thoroughly confused, Fairfax waved Will out of the office. Will ushered in Nehemiah, assistant to the ship’s cook.

“So Nehemiah, what were you doing in this cabin?”

Nehemiah didn’t say a word.

“Please sir, he can’t speak, sir – his tongue was cut out by the Yoruba.”

“Of course, Will. Thank you. You may go.”

Will left. Fairfax asked his question again. “What were you doing in the cabin?

Nehemiah mimed carrying a platter.

“You were bringing the captain his dinner?”

Nehemiah shook his head, side to side.

“No? You were clearing up after his dinner?”

Nehemiah nodded.

The parrot squawked, “Pretty Polly. Pretty Polly.”

“And you didn’t steal the necklace?”

Nehemiah shook his head, and moved his hands in an emphatically negative gesture. At a loss for further questions, Fairfax ran his fingers through sun-bleached hair and waved him out of the room.

“Elijah!” boomed Bosun Ridley as he came in, stooping low under the beams. “Pretty mess we’ve got here.”

“You can say that again,” said Fairfax, “Captain’s riled, crew’s upset, all because of one rotten apple in the barrel.”

“Well you can’t think it was me, can you?” laughed the bosun. “Sacrifice my position just for a necklace and a pair of diamond earrings? I’ve got more sense.”

“What were you doing in the cabin anyway,” asked Fairfax. “I’d have thought you’d have been busy re-reeving the rigging.”

“Captain asked me to sail this ‘ere Jackdaw to Devil’s Island for a refit. Just wanted to check if this lubberly captain carried charts and instruments. Always best to be prepared, that’s my motto.”

“So it wasn’t you.”

“Swear on me grandma’s grave, gawd bless ‘er,” said Ridley. “Anything else, cos I’ve got to get moving smartly if I’m gonna have Jackdaw ready to sail by dark.”

Captain Roberts stormed in.

“You found me a man to maroon yet, Fairfax?”

“Not quite. I have one question for you. Did Will go over to the Ranger with you?”

“Aye. He’s a dullard, that one. I had to come back ‘ere to fetch him. He knocked all that powder on the floor and I had to drag ‘im out with me to make sure he didn’t get left behind.”

“Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum,” sang the parrot.

And suddenly Fairfax knew who the culprit was.