28th June, The missing dinner plate

(Yeep! I'd rather not let this one die - it's fun!!)

He was definitely going to have to have a quiet word with Pye about what, precisely, was meant by the word 'unofficially'. That would be later, however.

"Pye. I have no intention of getting anyone into trouble. Now." He switched to Portuguese, keeping his voice calm. "I think the lads are trying to ask if you have... found... something that belongs to them, They would very much like it back."

The old man at last seemed to understand that giving in was more likely to get him out of this situation alive then not doing so, and slowly, keeping very sharp eyes on the two youngsters, he held out his sack to Vickery.

"Just found it! Nobody was eating it! It was just sitting there!", he assured the officer several times. "I didn't know it was still wanted! There was a fresh loaf right next to it, and I didn't take that!"

"Gracias, Senor," Vickery said, taking the bag. Before he opened it, he asked, levelly, "What was missing from Captain Torrington's tent, lads?"

Pye leaned closer, trying to see what was in the bag and to prove for the last time that there was a plate in it and thus solve the case. Given, if it was a plate in there, they would need to give a somewhat better explanation to the captain. Never the less they would at least have found what was stolen and returned it to Torrington and then beg and plead and weep for Captain Vickery not to tell him what a journey it made!  What use was a secret when an officer would tell on it!

"So?.... oh..Sir..."

"I said 'missing', Pye; I am not accusing either of you of anything," Vickery said, still keeping his voice level, non-accusatory. "This is, of course, off the record."

Freddie, who had only been saved from telling Vickery all by Pye's quicker answer, caught himself again when confronted with a new expression he had never heard before.

"Off the record? Uh, Sir ... what is a record? Something like a chest?"
The plate had been standing on a chest, after all.

"I mean, unofficially, just between us, without it being written down anywhere." He had nearly said 'recorded' but did not want to confuse the two young Riflemen any further.

"Oh!" Freddie's face lit up. "So you will help us and not tell Mylord and make him dismiss me and Zach will not get into trouble if we tell you?"

And that sent Rottlaender straight back into 'eager puppy', didn't it. He would really have to get Cotton to explain, precisely, what had happened about Captain Padstowe's watch and that he'd kept Cotton on after that incident.

"Quite," he said, [prevented from clasping his hands behind his back because he was still holding the bag.

"So... we really won' be in trouble for it, even when it isn't really our fault and you's an officer, so wot'ever you's told is actually.. .um.. " Pye sighed not quite sure how to ask it. But he knew Vickery was not the most usual officer from his experiences in the past. "I guess..." He began and then glanced at his friend. "Summ'on made a plate disappear..and we's trying to figure out who. 'couse we ain't wanting to let them get away with it!"

Freddie, who suddenly felt much better, hurried to give a more thorough explanation.

"Yes, it is Mylord's big silver plate missing! The one with all the ... Schnörkel am Rand!"

His hands danced about to sketch out the scrolls that decorated the edge of the plate.

"I polished it to make it shine when you come to dinner tonight, but then I had to go to learn to shoot better and to run around and march and feed Trueno and ... and then it wasn't there anymore!", he finished somewhat breathlessly.

Torrington's silver tray... Well that explained something. "¿Has visto un plato?" he asked, as gently as he could, turning to the Spaniard. He did not want to frighten the man and make him bolt, but he did need to find out the whereabouts of the missing article - something like that was neither cheap nor easy to come by, especially out here.

The man blanched.

"No! No, senor!"

He pulled the string holding his bag closed frantically, nearly pulling the whole bag out of Vickery's hands, until the ties gave way and between a few rags, some old bread tumbled out.

"There! See! Just some dry bread! I didn't know he still wanted it! He had nice fresh bread!"

It was barely possible to understand the panicked explanations, the man slipping more and more into indistinct mumbles. Freddie recognized the bread, though. Torrington had in his usual somewhat ascetic breakfast habits neglected to eat it, and Freddie had left it out to dry properly to make some coffee from it. - Well, what he had believed to be coffee before Torrington had introduced him to the real stuff, which he still found somewhat lacking in comparison.

Vickery raised an eyebrow and left the man have it; he was not going to quibble over stale bread.

"Ah, senor, the young men have found that there is something valuable missing, and are looking for it. If you could help find it, you could earn a dollar or two."

Vickery could easily afford to give the man a couple of dollars or so - a dollar, four shillings, was not very much money for one of his status, and certainly was a lot less than whatever Torrington had paid for the tray. Money would be more easily concealed and disposed of, too.

The man shook his head, still pretty afraid.

"I took nothing valuable! I swear! There were lots of nice things, but I didn't take any! Mother of God, help me, I didn't take more than the bread!"

Suddenly Freddie pointed to the rags that the man had wound around his feet and yelled:

"But you have the polishing paste on your shoes! The one that was knocked over!"

In his rightous rage, he forgot completely that he was yelling in German and only Vickery was likely to understand anything.

"All right, Rottlaender, calm down," Vickery told the youngster, easily making the switch to German.

He changed back to Spanish, hoping that his knowledge of the language would hold up to this. "I am not going to get anyone into trouble. I would just like to know where something has gone." He felt in his coin purse and held up two silver dollars. "If you can help, I will give you these."

The man's eyes hungrily fixed on the coins.

"I will help! I will help! But I don't know anything! What are you looking for? Please! I want to help!"

Freddie gestured wildly.

"He was in the tent, Sir! Near the chest! He must know something! What is he saying?"

The amount of very forcefully stated or asked sentences was enought to alert any soldiers in quite some distance around - and the amount of different languages used was enough to give seasoned diplomates a heradache. It was not making the man a lier, though. The paste was only on the soles of the man's feet - as Pye rightly had deduced, the paste would have splattered the man's legs as well if he had knocked the jar over while stealing the plate.

"A big dish, about so big," Vickery said, sketching the size of the item in question. The motion made the two silver coins sparkle a little in the sun. "Did you see it in the tent at all when you were there?"

He would really have to talk to his men and make sure they kept a closer eye on Torrington's tent when its owner was not around.

The man shook his head again.

"There was no dish that big! Not in the open. I would have seen it!"

At Freddie's insitent pointing, he finally realized what the lad meant.

"There was only that stuff on the floor - I stepped into it. Really, there was no silver dish anywhere around!"

"Silver dish?" Vickery raised an eyebrow. "I did not say what it was made of. So that must mean you have seen it. You will get these, and two more, if you let me have it back - or nothing, and I shall tell everyone to look for it. You will find it very hard to get it out of our camp without someone seeing it, a dish of that size."

"I don't have it! See, that's all I have!"

The man pointed to the meager belongings in the sack. Then he gesticulated.

"I just saw a soldier who had one! He carried it out like he was supposed to! I thought he was the servant - i waited till he was gone!"

A soldier?

"What colour coat did he have on? Green?" He indicated the sleeve of his own jacket, to make his meaning clear. "Or red?" He pulled at the bright red cuff of his jacket.

"Oh, yes, red, senor! No green! No green at all!"

The man gesticulated to Vickery's collar.

"And blue there! And grey trousers! And a shako! And ... and ... and no rifle!"

He looked hopefully at the coins.

A redcoat with blue facings... Could their provosts have struck again? Vickery was going to be most displeased if they had.

"Thank you. You have been very helpful." He handed over the coins, and clasped his hands behind his back thoughtfully.

Torrington would have to be informed of this, of course. He was almost certain that the Engineer officer would not blame Pye and Rottlaender for what had transpired.

"You are certain it was blue here?" He gestured at his collar. Even if it was not blue, it was not red - which would eliminate the 33rd from being involved. And that would no doubt relieve Pye's mind considerably. "Was he tall? Short? Did you see anything else about him at all?"

"Yes, yes! Definitely blue. And white buttonholes! And he looked like him!"

The vagabound pointed at Pye.

"Only older and without the scar! But same height and weight! And dark hair without a proper cut! But he was darker!"

The man now looked really hopeful.

"Was that helping you?"