S. Parris - Treachery

‘So she attracts the wealthiest men in the area,’ I say, beginning to understand.

‘It has grown into a sort of meeting place for men of influence in the town,’ he says. ‘They go there to dine, smoke, play cards, talk business — not just for the girls. Any man with ambition wants to be included in that company, and the benefits far outweigh the moral objections. Makes it very difficult for anyone in authority who tries to have the place investigated or shut down — as I found out when I was mayor.’ His jaw tightens at the memory.

‘Which is why that woman — Mistress Grace — believes she is above the law?’ I finish the thought for him. ‘She has the most powerful men in the town by the balls.’

‘They say you can get whatever you want at the House of Vesta with no questions asked, as long as you are willing to pay.’ He gives a meaningful nod. I consider telling him about Toby, but decide against it; if Drake does persuade the authorities to investigate, it would be the boy who was punished for his sins, not the people who forced him to it.

‘Nevertheless,’ Drake says, brisker this time, ‘there are certain pressures that can be brought. If she is hiding John Doughty, I want to know about it.’

I turn to leave, but he lays a hand on my sleeve. ‘One more thing, Bruno. In your nocturnal wanderings, did you see anything of Jonas last night?’

‘Last night? No, not after we came ashore.’

‘Hm.’ He takes a deep breath. There are shadows under his eyes; it looks as if he has not slept. ‘Jonas did not come back to the ship all night. No one has seen him. Plymouth is full of thugs who would lay into a man because they didn’t like his complexion, and believe they are defending England that way.’ He grimaces. ‘I hope Jonas has not fallen foul of that sort.’

He lets his hand fall from my arm and continues to stare out of the window, as if the answer might present itself if he waits long enough.

‘I hope not,’ I say, though another explanation occurs to me. ‘I’m sure he will turn up. Perhaps he drank too much and ended up spending the night in the arms of some Plymouth maiden.’

‘He’d be lucky to find a maiden in Plymouth, even at the House of Vesta.’ Drake tries to summon a smile. ‘I dare say Jonas enjoyed the same pastimes as any other sailor on shore leave, but he never neglected his duty. He was supposed to take the middle watch last night, after midnight. That’s not something he would have forgotten. I hope to God he is back by tomorrow, at any rate — he must be the principal witness at the inquest. It was he who found Dunne hanging.’

Perhaps Jonas had good reason to make himself scarce before the inquest, I think. Or perhaps there is someone else who does not want him to testify.

‘Why did you ask Mistress Dunne about her father?’ asks Drake, abruptly changing the subject.

‘It was Lady Drake who mentioned to me that Mistress Dunne is an heiress. Robert had told Gilbert that he expected to come into some money soon. I wondered if he might have meant his wife’s inheritance.’

He nods, understanding. ‘A good thought. And she would hardly want a gambling husband getting his hands on her father’s fortune too.’

‘In fact,’ Thomas says, ‘it is difficult to imagine anyone with as much reason to want him dead as his wife.’

There is a silence as we all consider this.

‘Even so, I cannot see how she could have engineered this particular outcome,’ I say, eventually. ‘Assuming she wanted him murdered, she would have done better to poison his dinner at home, or have someone attack him on the road. A death that looks like a suicide is not to her advantage — quite the reverse.’

‘As she is at pains to make clear,’ Drake says. ‘We must find this killer before the inquest. I will see that you are amply rewarded, of course,’ he adds, seeing my expression. ‘That is not in doubt.’

‘That is generous of you, Sir Francis, but-’

His brow darkens. ‘But what?’

‘I only wonder — why me?’

‘Ah.’ He moves closer, drops his voice. ‘Sir Philip has told me a little more about your work.’

I look at him, perplexed, thinking he means my books.

‘For Walsingham,’ Drake whispers, to clarify. ‘Any man who has earned Master Secretary’s trust and respect also has mine. My brother and I were most impressed, weren’t we, Thomas?’

Thomas Drake makes a noise that could mean anything, and folds his arms across his chest. I have rarely seen anyone look less impressed.

I give a little cough and try to look humble. ‘I may need resources, Sir Francis. Information is not cheap in this town. People keep their eyes and ears open, but they sometimes need encouragement.’

Drake nods, murmuring assent. ‘I will arrange a purse for you when you return from your excursion with Mistress Dunne.’ At the door he pauses. ‘Watch her closely, Bruno. She is determined to make trouble. She could ruin me.’

It is tempting to observe that, if the verdict goes his way, it could ruin her, but I appear to be in Drake’s pay now, so I say nothing.

‘What about the book?’ I ask, as I am leaving.

‘I suppose it will have to wait.’ He rubs his beard and looks gloomy. ‘I will pay you for your work there, too, do not fear.’

‘Where is it?’

‘Safe under lock and key in my cabin aboard the Elizabeth .’ He glances around the room as if he might have left it lying unguarded somewhere.

I consider whether to mention the pages stolen from my room, but decide it would not help matters if I were to damage his new faith in me. I may yet find the thief without Drake needing to know of my folly. ‘If I were you, sir, I would keep it with you, where you can see it.’

‘Why? The ship is safe enough, is it not?’ His brow creases and he glances across at Thomas.

That’s what Robert Dunne thought. I decide not to say this aloud.

In the entrance hall I find Sir William Savile loitering, a leather travelling bag at his feet.

‘Ah, Bruno!’ he says, unexpectedly animated. ‘Have you heard about this oath? Damned impertinence, if you ask me. Not sure I like the precedent either. Instinct tells me it goes against the proper order of things. What does Sir Philip say? I suppose he has sworn it readily, being desperate for a berth.’

I wait until he stops for breath. ‘What oath?’

‘Oh, Pettifer the chaplain, you know, is going about this morning with great pomp and ceremony, announcing that every man who means to sail with the fleet must swear an oath of loyalty to the Queen and to Captain Drake as supreme commander of the enterprise before we set sail.’

‘Is that a problem?’ I wonder what has prompted this; does Drake sense stirrings of unrest, or is this a pre-emptive measure, to try and flush out the killer?

‘Not in theory, but’ — he glances about, then leans in — ‘it does rather give a mandate to any course of action that takes his fancy, don’t you think? It robs one of any capacity to challenge him once at sea — he can simply say, “But you were sworn, my masters, and to break your oath is as good as treason.” I mean, it’s all very well for the crew, you know, but for a gentleman …’ He regards me down the length of his nose. ‘That’s why I wondered if Sir Philip meant to swear.’

‘You had better ask him, I have not heard him mention it,’ I say. I like Savile less every time I speak to him. I glance down at the buttons on his green silk doublet; disappointingly, they are flat, silver and all present. ‘Are you going somewhere, Sir William?’ I ask, indicating his bag.

‘Decided to take a room here until we sail,’ he says, tapping the bag with his foot. ‘I reasoned I’d be spending time enough in that poky cabin once we leave, and since no one seems to know the day nor the hour at present, why should I not sleep in a feather bed while I can?’