“Do you have anything more you wish to add to the official record concerning Mr. Chen’s death, Mrs. MacTavish?” the Judge Admiral asked Eilidh.
“No.” She shook her head.
“And anything further you wish to say about the sinking of the ship?”
“No. I have no memories beyond Mr. Chen’s death.”
“Very well, then.” The Judge skimmed a page and then moved it off his pile, flipping it over. He did the same with two further pages before lifting up another sheet of foolscap. “Let us get on with the Captain and Mr. Massey’s testimony. In the interest of harmony and truthfulness, I will read the statement Captain Cuthie made previously.” He looked to Cuthie and Massey. “If either of you have anything you wish to add, please do so.”
The Judge Admiral snapped the paper, lifted his quizzing glass, and began to read.
Two weeks after Mr. Chen’s death, the seas rose in a terrible gale as we attempted to navigate a series of reefs. The waves were too high to set anchor, but any movement on our part risked the ship being dashed on a submerged reef. The weather made it difficult to see what lay ahead with any clarity. We were in desperate straits.
Jamie was still in the brig, for her own safety and that of the crew. She suggested a solution—she would take fireworks, climb up the foremast, and send the rockets over the ocean before us, illuminating our path and any dangers ahead. As I considered her to be a dispensable member of my crew (on account of her feminine deceit and weakness), I agreed to Jamie’s proposal.
I sent the rest of the crew below deck in case there was an accident with the fireworks. Only myself and Mr. Massey remained on the top deck. Mr. Massey was at the helm, steering the ship. I kept a lookout for hazards. Jamie took a hurricane lantern in her teeth, stashed rockets in an oiled satchel across her chest, and climbed the foremast, lashing herself to it. The ship rolled and pitched, but Jamie managed to light a rocket and send it skimming over the water. It exploded and did as she intended, illuminating the sea before us.
We did this for a while. Between the fireworks and my shouted commands to Mr. Massey, we were able to guide the vessel. Then Jamie released a firework which illuminated a large reef in our path. Mr. Massey pulled the ship hard to starboard. I clung to the deck railing, being tossed with the wind as the ship tilted into the turn. I looked up toward Jamie in the rigging. For some reason, she was lighting another firework. The firework flew from her hand toward the ship deck. Abruptly, the ship shuddered, coming to a halt. And then, it exploded.
The Judge Admiral stopped reading at this point.
Eilidh’s hands were fisted in her lap, her heart a battering ram beneath her sternum.
She had risked her life, trying to help save the ship.
And climbing the mast?
That sounded like something she would do, even though she still had no memory of the event.
The Judge Admiral lowered his quizzing glass and looked at Cuthie. “Would you care to elaborate on this chain of events, Captain?”
“It’s obvious, isnae it?” Cuthie snorted. “Jamie deliberately aimed the firework at the ship’s deck, intent on destroying us all. The firework plunged through the ship’s decks and ignited the black powder in the hold. The blast tossed myself and Mr. Massey clear of the ship. I can only assume that Jamie was similarly thrown free. The rest of the crew, being below deck, were not so fortunate.”
Eilidh swallowed, certain the hammering of her heart must be audible to all.
The Judge Admiral said nothing for a moment, tapping his quizzing glass against his lips.
He set down the paper. “I must be honest, Captain, I do not see how this all adds up to Mrs. MacTavish deliberately sinking the ship. She was up the mast, trying to save it—”
“Aye! And it was her own idea. She earned a wee bit of our trust and thenboom!” Cuthie smacked his hands together, causing Mr. Patterson to jump. “The first chance she got, she blew up the ship.”
“And what motivation would Mrs. MacTavish have had for endangering her own life like this?”
“Revenge!” Massey spat. “Pure and simple.”
“Aye,” Cuthie nodded, “she wanted revenge on those who had killed Mr. Chen.”
The Judge Admiral pondered this for another moment, brow furrowing.
Eilidh sat stock-still.
Silence hung.
Cuthie glared at Eilidh, eyes mocking and triumphant.
“Do you have anything you might wish to add, Mrs. MacTavish?” the Judge Admiral asked. “You have no memories of the actual wreck, as you said, but do you recall your state of mind after Mr. Chen’s death?”
Eilidh swallowed, thinking back. “I cannot say that I wished harm upon the crew members who killed Mr. Chen. I have no memories of wanting revenge. Just sorrow at his death and fear for my own safety. Along with that, I must say that I do not believe I would have intentionally blown up the ship. Not everyone aboard caused me harm. I would never condemn innocent men to a watery death. If I did send a rocket toward the deck, it was likely an accident. Given the lurching of the vessel as Captain Cuthie described, I could have easily dropped it unintentionally. Or even accidentally sent it off-course due to the pitch of the ship.”
