D. Wilson - The First Horseman

I retained my grasp. ‘Lizzie, please listen. All you say is absolutely true and don’t think I haven’t thought of it. In fact, I’ve thought of little else these past twenty-four hours and more. But things are not that simple.’

‘Why not?’ She shook herself free. ‘You can leave everything to the coroner and the constables. ’Tis their job. I doubt they’ll find the assassin but your conscience will be clear.’

‘I have no choice. If it was just a matter of getting justice for Robert and his widow, I might walk away. I don’t think I would but it’s possible and your arguments just might persuade me. But what if the murderer and his paymaster are really after me? Suppose Seagrave’s family is determined to avenge his death. They blame me… and probably you. And they certainly have money enough to pay a professional killer.’

‘But, you don’t know — ’

‘No, I don’t! That’s the trouble. I just don’t know what all this is about. What I do know is that until the mystery of Robert’s death is solved, none of us may be safe… not me, not my mother, not my son… and not you. Whatever you may think of me, I have the utmost respect and… admiration for you. Do you think I can stand by and do nothing while there is just a chance that all our lives might be in danger?’

Lizzie sank on to a stool. She groaned. ‘I should have known you were trouble the first time I set eyes on you. If I had not been such a fool and taken pity on you…’ Her hand went to her cheek and she left the sentence hanging.

‘I shall always be grateful for that,’ I said. ‘Is there really nothing you can tell me that might help settle this matter quickly?’

She sat staring into the hearth for a long time before answering. At last she said, ‘Very well. Go to the Red Lamb beyond Southwark. Go in broad daylight and when there are many people abroad and, in God’s name, don’t go alone. Ask for Doggett. John Doggett knows everything but tells nothing unless he is sure it’s safe… and unless the price is right. You might take Ned to vouch for you. Doggett and his associates don’t care much for strangers.’

The following morning, before I made the return journey to London, I called the whole household together. I had to exhort them to vigilance without alarming them — no easy matter. I told them not to believe wild rumours about the northern rebels. The king’s army, I assured them, had the situation under control. London, I reported, was its usual busy but calm self. Nevertheless the disturbed times inevitably encouraged an increase in lawlessness and they were to be on their guard, especially if they encountered strangers. On no account were the doors of Hemmings to be opened to anyone unknown. In private I instructed my steward to employ all the extra men he needed to patrol the estate. He was also to find a competent and trustworthy replacement for Margaret. In the meantime, I told him, Mistress Garney would attend my mother as well as my son and should be treated with courtesy by all the servants, if they valued their jobs. Part of me — a large part — wanted to stay longer but if I was to have any chance of locating the man I was looking for, I would have to act quickly.

On my way through Southwark later that day I called at St Swithun’s House in the hope of enlisting Ned’s help. He was not there so I left a message asking him to call at Goldsmith’s Row as soon as he could.

Ned came that evening and I settled him in my chamber with a glass of sack while I recounted the circumstances of Robert’s death.

He stretched out his legs to the fire. ‘We heard, of course, about Master Packington, but I had no idea that you were involved in that terrible business.’

‘He was my truest friend and I am ashamed to say that only now am I beginning to realise just how much I owe him.’

‘That is often the way,’ Ned reflected. He stroked his chin and I noticed that he was letting his beard grow longer. ‘We appreciate things most when we have lost them. Life in the cloister could be tedious and there was certainly too much petty bickering and rumour-mongering. Jed and I suffered much from sniggering innuendos. It was malicious tale-telling that made it easy for Cromwell’s men to accuse the community of heinous sins, contra bonos mores , and threaten to close us down. Our abbot took the hint — and a sizeable bribe. So, those of us who elected not to be transferred to another house ended up back in the world. Only now do I realise how much I relied on — and needed — the holy routine and the fellowship of brothers who, like me, were certainly not perfect. Master Packington was, by repute, an honest man of charitable disposition, though some of the City clergy had him marked for a heretic. I sympathise with your loss.’

‘Have you heard any more of the Seagrave affair?’ I asked.

‘Oh aye, I doubt his people will let that rest for a while yet. The coroner questioned several of our St Swithun’s friends after the discovery of the body back in the summer but they told him nothing, of course. It was left to Seagrave’s family to seek out the facts. They used different tactics.’

‘Threats? Bribery?’ I suggested.

‘Nothing that subtle. More truth lies at a knife’s point or the business end of a quarterstaff than you’ll find in a court of law.’

‘They came with armed retainers?’

‘Oh not they! Gentlemen of the court don’t dirty their own hands with score-settling. They hired an expert — a man called Doggett. Fortunately, those of our number who were involved in Seagrave’s… removal heard that Doggett was on their — ’

‘Doggett!’ I exclaimed. ‘Lizzie mentioned his name. Who is he?’

‘John Doggett is a useful friend and… well, you wouldn’t want to discover what he’s like as an enemy. How best to describe him?’ Ned paused and sipped his wine thoughtfully. ‘He comes of good family; his forbears were vintners. Their business still exists in East Cheap. John is a man of some style and education but he turned his back on a tradesman’s life. Too humdrum for him, perhaps. Or it may be that he simply stumbled upon easier ways to make money than in importing wine. Whatever the reason, he has set himself up as a princeling among the outcast and base community. You may not realise it but there is a hierarchy in the criminal world as fixed and immovable as the one that holds together the society of honest men. To take but one example, all highway robbers and travelling beggars ply their trade by courtesy of the “upright men” who ordain who may operate in each locality. Now, if the upright man is a noble of the open road, Doggett is king or emperor over an even wider domain. The Howards and the Brandons are effectively the rulers of East Anglia and the Percies and the Nevilles control the northern counties. In the same way Doggett treats Southwark and its hinterland as his realm. He has a band of rakehell servitors, known, inevitably, as “Doggett’s Dogs”. They police the Stews and the gambling houses. They decide which beggars and thieves may operate. They sort out disputes. And for all these services they collect their dues.’

‘They rob from the robbers.’

‘Aye, and kill the killers. Criminals are more afraid of the Dogs than they are of any magistrate.’

‘I don’t like what I’m hearing about this Doggett fellow.’

‘Among the human leys of Southwark he provides something that passes for law and order but he is certainly someone to be avoided by honest men.’

‘But if the Seagraves have set him on my trail…’

‘I think they are more interested in the men who actually killed their family member. They know you are innocent of that crime. As long as you keep out of Doggett’s way…’