Alexander (14)
By Kilb50
- 91 reads
14
They walked together to the house. Rikki's mother and partner were in the lounge. Rikki burst into tears and said: ‘They killed him, mom.’
Alexander was surprised at Luther's ex-wife's reaction. She embraced her daughter and the two women stood consoling one another. Rikki’s step father remained seated, impervious to this sudden rush of grief.
Alexander explained, once again, as best he could, the circumstances of Luther's death. Luther’s ex-wife listened to what he had to tell them then thanked him for making the journey. Despite objections from her partner, she invited Alexander to stay. It was too late to catch the bus. He could sleep on the sofa.
That night Alexander lay in the front room of the house trying to make sense of what Rikki had told him. There were things that still didn't add up. Was it Luther's intention to harm or even kill Lady Brook and her son ? Did Terry know Luther's intentions ? Had the police killed Luther to protect the Brook family ?
The next morning, before he left, Alexander spoke with Luther's ex-wife. He wanted confirmation about who he kept in touch with after he was dismissed from the military. ‘Luther was a loner’ she said. ‘He supported his unit, saw them as brothers, but otherwise remained aloof. Perhaps that had something to do with why he got kicked out. And anyway, by that time we’d parted company, we were no longer a couple.’
Alexander asked if she could remember the names of Luther's fellow comrades - was there, perhaps, a man by the name of Terry ? Rikki's mother nodded. ‘Yes’ she said ‘I remember Terry Moore. I heard that he helped Luther find a job. That’s all I know.’
Alexander took out the envelope from his bag. ‘I want to give you this’ he said. ‘Inside are photos. They’re the reason why Luther was killed. I don’t know the name of the girl - I doubt she's still alive. Hand it over to someone in authority you can trust. Will you do that ?’
Luther’s ex-wife nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Hand it over tomorrow. I need some time to re-visit the manor house. Someone else is being held prisoner.’
-*-
Alexander stood outside the municipal building, staring at the cafe. He wanted to confront Terry again, wanted to let him know that he’d seen Alicia leaving the private clinic with Lady Brook. He stood on the corner for more than an hour but there was no sign of Terry’s van.
It began to rain. Alexander sought shelter in the municipal building. It was only the second time he’d entered. As well as council offices and a small public library, the building housed, on the first floor, the town's art gallery. Alexander climbed the stone stairway and went inside.
Fifty or so paintings were on display, many of which dated from the Victorian era. Alexander was surprised to see that the works were of a sea faring nature. The town was many miles from the coast and had no history, as far as he was aware, of shipbuilding or naval matters. However, as he inspected each picture, he saw that he was mistaken. The written summaries told a different story. Some of the paintings showed workers assembling rope and chain; others showed narrow streets with craftsmen fashioning ornate figureheads – decorations to be placed on a vessel’s prow. It seemed that the town’s industrial heritage – long since disappeared - once consisted of many workshops, all producing items that were essential for sea farers. Alexander saw other paintings of aged women stitching hats and boots; a workshop producing barrels and weighted coffins. And somewhere amongst these thriving cottage industries, Alexander learned that the Brook family played a central role.
The larger paintings showed galleons surging through ocean waves or else at anchor off brightly coloured exotic islands. On closer inspection he saw the purpose of these voyages. Groups of black men, their hands tied, were being herded on board. In some of the paintings, women and children were being corralled by men carrying muskets and swords. Alexander had to lean forward to better focus on these important details. The figures in the paintings were dwarfed by the vessels, the trees, the sky, and the land. It was as if the purpose of these expeditions was being intentionally downplayed. Look, the painting seemed to say, nature and human endeavor are working in harmony together. Yet, aspects of that human endeavor, such as cruelty and mercantile gain, were lost in perspective if the observer of the painting didn’t work a little harder. ‘Slave ships’ Alexander whispered to himself – prison ships carrying captured African men, women and children to England and beyond. Deep in the bowels of these ocean-going behemoths hundreds of human beings were tethered - captured souls who spent weeks and months packed tightly together with sparse water, food, or access to sanitation. In one of the paintings Alexander saw tiny heads being consumed by mountainous waves, as a ship ploughed through the sea beneath a clear blue sky. He read the summary of this painting with particular interest. Not only did it give the name of the ship, and details of its passage, but at the end it noted that Lord William Brook held a share of ownership. The Brook family fortune and the manor house, Alexander realized, had been built on the profits of slavery.
He hurried out of the municipal building; the rain had stopped. Alexander stood for a while breathing gulps of fresh air. The discovery of the Brook family's past brought everything into focus. Was this what Luther had wanted to bring to light ? That slavery and abuse still existed, in a softer, more charitable form ? As Alexander stood in front of the municipal building he looked up at the passing dark clouds and noticed something else: at the building’s summit was a representation, carved out of stone, of a four-masted ship. The stone work had been placed there in celebration; three hundred years ago the civic life of the town had flourished because of slavery. The townsfolk had secured jobs courtesy of the Brook family's involvement in the trafficking of human cargo. And now it was Alicia who was being held - trafficked back to the manor house like the young black girl he’d met when he was clearing the garden. For their sake and for Alicia’s sake, he had to return.
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