Port of Thieves

By J.D. Strange

London, 1701, Captain Kidd's hung for piracy on a cold London afternoon. Blackguard street gang members Johnny and Rake discover the map to Kidd's hidden treasure during a heist, but they aren't the only ones in the hunt for treasure. Slave trader Schlitz is always one step away.
Signed up to a merchant Canadian trader's ship the boys take to the seas on the run and in search of riches.  

Captain Corso and his pirate crew take over their ship The Argosy in North African waters. Rake falls overboard and Johnny signs the pirate articles. At sea he learns the pirate code and has his first taste of freedom..

From street kid to pirate the quest takes the boys to Tangiers, Madagascar, Ayutthaya and eventually leads to Port Royal – The Wickedest Town on Earth - where Captain Kidd's treasure is said to rest.
Can Johnny bag the prize and return to London? 

Or will the deadly Port swallow him whole? 
Port of Thieves is a swashbuckling historic international adventure from the author who has been described as "terrifically gifted, enormously energetic," by Edgar Nominee Timothy Hallinan, and a writer who "strips away the bull****" by Shamus Winner Christopher G. Moore.

 

Step inside this tale and witness prolific novelist J.D. Strange deliver a pirate yarn with more twists and turns than a weaver's knot.

• Language: English
• Publisher: EDITIONS Strange
• Release date: Sep 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393864226

Book preview

THE CODE

Ⅰ. Each man has an equal vote in the bringing forward of, and the amendment of a motion.

Ⅱ. Each man has equal title to fresh provisions and rum, and may use at pleasure unless provisions are scarce and rations apply.

Ⅲ. Every man has a fair share of prizes, but if one man takes more than his share, he shall be marooned after ears and nose are cut. We do not steal amongst ourselves, Gentlemen.

Ⅳ. No gambling onboard the vessel. No dice, no cards, no games of chance.

Ⅴ. Keep pistol and sword clean and serviceable at all times and, by

God, be willing to use them.

Ⅵ. Lights out at nine aboard ship, on land let ’em keep the fires burning ’till morning.

Ⅶ. No women shall step foot aboard the vessels we sail.

Ⅷ. To desert duty is punishable by death.

ONE

London, May 23 rd , 1701.

‘JUST ONE before the weekend,’ Rake’s long-lashed-eyes are twitchy with nerves or giggle juice. Black tar pearly whites glisten under a cold London sun.

‘Office on Lime Street. Simple up an’ over thru kitchen window and out the back alley. Gotta be least fifty quid ova Friday afternoon. Plus, whatever extra we snag.’

‘I’ll be sitting this one out.’

‘You’re already part of the guard, Johnny. You already in. There will be no sitting out or otherwise. Office collects the premiums from ships that sail to the Port of Thieves. Stealing from pirates. Thieving from filches, knaves, pickpocketing privateers... Captain Kidd left something for safe keeping and we intend to take it. A map.’

‘How you know about it?’

‘One of the jezebels, she heard him talking about it in his sleep.’

‘Oh please...’

‘She often goes with the privateers.’

‘Privateers?’

‘Pirates, Johnny, pirates. Buccaneers, privateers, pirates, they all be cut from the same linen.’

The executioner’s cart arrives, parks by the gallows, privateer turned pirate Mr. Kidd aboard, dear reader. Hundreds stand before the death stage at Catherine’s Dock on the shore of the River Thames to see Captain William Kidd take center position on the execution block.

Rake is tugging at my sleeve, trying to make a point. Rake has a point, he often has points... a prickly, pointy, postulating, punchable point maker. Always talking. Always has ideas...

‘Everyone, his uncle, and his gin-sodden mother, they all know that the rich get rich by robbing offshore on those big ships. They go to the Indies, West or East. Plunder them, just like this one did,’ he points at Kidd on the death stage, dear reader, eyes wide open, expectant of that soothing wave of calm one’s execution brings.

We all know the story. Pirates and privateers are cut from the same cloth, robbing and looting on order of the Crown on a Tuesday and thieving from those same bastards who pilfer from the natives on a Wednesday, when the Letters of the Marquee expire - it takes several weeks for word to spread that you are no longer in the employ of the Crown - time enough to build up any number of illegal plundering transgressions against the orange king.

Kidd has chosen blue and red leg pipes, for his city stage debut, below naval jacket and parted powdered wig and a smile both noble and brave under the circumstances. He stands before the baying crowd with princely confidence.

‘Kill me, you bastards,’ he shouts.

Takes a brave man to accept the swiftness of the old French reverse with a nod and a smile like Kidd does.

‘Let’s get on with it,’ Kidd bellows at the crowd.

He spits on the gravel and smiles widely, having had, no doubt, one or two drams of giggle juice and perhaps a Tiger Sweat for the road. They call it a hangover, owing to the ill-effect of giggle juice the next morning – once the hanging is over. For Captain Kidd there’s no such concern as he’ll be hoisted above the city, brains picked clean by the ravens, skull orbits licked spotless by city-patrolling black-headed gulls that stand in for vultures in these parts. 

Rake’s ratty eyes are wide with awe. ‘Pirates get special treatment. The long drop,’ referring to the length of rope required to hang the bandits of the sea.

‘I wonder if he will put on a dance, eh?’ Rake smiles as he anticipates those spasmodic jerks that’ll no doubt chart Kidd’s final voyage – the Catherine Shuffle they call it.

‘They drop ‘em long as it hurts more and is less likely to kill ‘em the first go.’

Captain Kidd’s eyes fix on a young Piper’s wife as he licks his lips slowly, tenderizing her in his crown office, but the ship remains in harbor, at least for now, and he’ll be upstairs soon with a pair of wings for a schooner and a harp for a bloody cutlass.

Life is like the pig’s tail, gentle reader, short and brutish, with many twists and turns.

Kidd looks out across the execution field.

There’s a look in his eye.

But it isn’t fear.

Hangman lets him drop.

Hangs for a second.

And...

Just like that... 

The rope snaps, breaks, the Captain falls to the ground, he rushes towards the crowd, but the mob push him back, arms pull. The executioner reclaims his quarry and leads him back up those thirteen steps to the death stage. A cheer as John the ballad singer takes two steps back, opens his ragged cloak like a dusty raven and bellows a merry melody dedicated to the pirate. 

‘Is it fate?

...or luck?

John steps back towards the crowd, ‘Had an accomplice tampered with the hangman’s rope?’

‘Rope would be more likely to break on the long drop...’

Pamphlet Pete coughs onto the back of his hand, pushing past Ballad John, and with a roar, legs peddling, closes his eyes in on us.

‘Is it fate? Two hangings for the price of one?’

Kidd is loaded back up onto the gallows.

‘Would you hurry things up, I haven’t got all day...’ he says.

The crowd loves it, a true showman to the end. They begin to sing