Twenty Six Days

As Pitt took an old battered Peterson pipe from his pocket that he had prudently filled before leaving his rooms, he replied that he would have a half pint of bitter. When it was poured, he lit his pipe and took a half turn toward the rear of the room. Sitting at a table alone was a man with receding sandy colored hair smoking a cigarette. He was clean shaven, broad shouldered, stocky build, and sat with one hand in his lap and the other with the cigarette, resting on the top of a pint of beer. He was simply watching the room, but not as if waiting on someone; just watching the people. It had to be Becker.

Pitt started across the room, pausing for a moment at the table where the sailor had just finished carving the R in the tabletop. Pit noticed other initials there as well and commented in passing.

"Adding your initial to the group?"

The sailor looked up and smiled. "Nay - Yon R stands for Rank ta describe the last whore I bedded. I keeps track on this table while in port."

Pitt raised his glass, laughed, and continued on to Becker's table. When he got there, he stopped directly in front of Becker, blocking his view of the room.

"Is your name Edward Becker?"

"Who's asking?"

Pitt pulled a chair from an empty neighboring table and sat down. "My name is Joshua Pitt, an enquiry agent, and I represent Mr. Arthur Baines."

Pitt expected Becker to be surprised but instead, he only smiled and said, "So the cowardly bastard sent a boy, did he? Thought I might shoot him on sight? If'n he showed hisself, I'd have half a mind to. Might be I could shoot you to send him a message. Course, he already has one message an' I figure that was enough."

Pitt slid his hand inside the flap of his jacket. "I have two things to say to you, Becker: The first is that if you try to shoot me, you will be dead before you can move back from the table. The second is that Mr. Baines would like to make you a financial offer to leave England and never return."

Becker's face registered obvious surprise, not at Pitt's threat, but at the offer from Baines. "What sort of financial offer?"

"Ten thousand pounds." Baines had told Pitt to offer twenty thousand but thought the lower amount might pique Becker's interest and he would ask for more.

Becker threw his cigarette on the floor and fished another from a pocket, lit it with a Vesta and took a drink of beer. He appeared to be thinking, maybe converting it to dollars. Pitt was wrong.

"So high and mighty Baines thinks he can buy his life and his... Buy his life for a bit of coin, does he? Not for fifty thousand, you hear me? Not for fifty thousand!" Edwards shifted in his chair. "I don't want his money!" he fairly shouted. "He can cram it up his ass for all I care. And something else, you pansy English bastard..." He paused as if choosing his words. "As much as I would like to personally even the score for my brother Edwin, it will not be by my hand that vengeance strikes. No sir, not by my hand...."

Pitt rose and looked down on the man. "Then I will tell you this, Becker. If harm comes to Mr. Baines or his daughter from any quarter, I hold you responsible and you will not leave this island alive." With that, Pitt turned and walked away.