Edward Marston - The Frost Fair

'Have you any idea where we might find him?'

'No, Mr Redmayne,' said the other. 'He had a habit of finding us.

I've no idea where the man lodged even. James would just appear when he chose to.'

'He boasted to me that he liked to cover his tracks.'

'He'll have even more need to do that now.'

'Exactly,' said Christopher. 'Since he can no longer swagger as Captain Harvest, he'll have to find another disguise. My fear is that he might flee London altogether but he'd need money to do that. Where would he go to find it?'

Crenlowe was stern. 'Not here,' he said, 'I can promise you that. I made it crystal clear to James that I'd loaned him money for the last time.'

'What about Sir Humphrey Godden?'

'He'd be less likely to expect repayment.'

'Why is that?'

'Sir Humphrey has more money than he needs, Mr Redmayne. He inherited his wealth. I, as you see, have to accumulate mine with the skills I've acquired in my trade. It makes me less willing to advance a loan unless I know that it will be duly repaid. James would never turn to me again.'

'Where would he turn?'

'I could give you half-a-dozen names,' said Crenlowe, 'but the main one has already been mentioned. He'd almost certainly go first to Sir Humphrey Godden.'

Jonathan Bale was even less welcome at the address in Covent Garden than he had been at the coffee house. He was kept standing in the draughty hall for fifteen minutes before Sir Humphrey Godden even deigned to acknowledge his presence. When he finally made an appearance, the man was an unfriendly host.

'Will you stop hounding me, Mr Bale?' he demanded.

'I needed to speak to you again, Sir Humphrey.'

'Well, I've no wish to speak to you. And neither has Martin Crenlowe, for that matter. We are both certain of Henry Redmayne's innocence so we'll have no dealings with someone who is intent on securing his conviction.'

'My only intention is to see that justice is done,' said Jonathan.

'Your kind of justice, based on ignorance and prejudice.'

'You are hardly free from prejudice yourself, Sir Humphrey.'

'What do you mean?' 'I was thinking about your opinion of foreigners.'

'It's shared by every right-thinking Englishman. Foreigners are inferior to us.'

'I can see that you have a degree of ignorance as well.'

'Beware, sir!' growled the other, squaring his shoulders aggressively. 'I'll not be insulted in my own home. Nor will I be cross- examined by a parish constable who does not understand the meaning of respect. I bid you farewell.'

'Are you not interested in the news that I bring you?'

'Not in the slightest.'

'Then I'll leave you to the mercy of Captain Harvest,' said Jonathan, heading for the door. 'You obviously have no wish to learn the truth about him.'

Sir Humphrey was jolted. 'Wait!' he said. 'What's this about James?'

'I only came here as a favour to pass on the warning.'

'Warning?'

Jonathan opened the front door. 'Good day, Sir Humphrey.'

'Hold on a moment!' ordered the other, crossing swiftly over to him. 'If there's something that I should know, let's hear it.' He closed the door again. 'Now, Mr Bale. What really brought you to my house today?'

'My sense of duty, sir. I felt impelled to tell you what I discovered.'

Jonathan's description of his encounter with Captain Harvest was slow and rather ponderous. Sir Humphrey Godden listened with growing unease. A chevron of anxiety appeared on his brow and he began to grind his teeth. The strange appearance at his house of his erstwhile friend was now explained. What he could not accept was the suggestion that the man might be responsible for the murder.

'James was something of a scoundrel – we all accepted that – but he was not a malicious person. When you see a man in his cups,' he argued, 'you have a good idea of his true character, and he was the soul of joviality.'

'He was not very jovial when he made his escape from me.'

'I can see why. You tore away his mask.'

'Who was the man behind it, Sir Humphrey? That's what I wish to know.' 'A knave and an imposter, perhaps – but not a killer.'

'Mr Redmayne would dispute that,' said Jonathan. 'He feels that he was the victim of a murderous attack by your friend. When Mr Redmayne was standing on the riverbank, he was pushed into the water by someone who did not wish him to come out again. Fortunately, he survived.'

Sir Humphrey was shocked by the news. 'I'm relieved to hear it.'

'Not as much as me. He could easily have drowned.'

'And he thinks that James was responsible?'

'He considers it a strong possibility, Sir Humphrey.'

'How does Mr Redmayne know that the attack is related to the murder?'

'He was near the scene of the crime when it happened,' explained Jonathan.

'What, in Fenchurch Street?'

'No, some distance away. His brother was found in an alley near Thames Street. It was only a short walk to the river from there.'

'I begin to see his reasoning,' said Sir Humphrey, rubbing his chin. 'It would be too great a coincidence for this to happen so close to the place where the murder must have been committed.'

'Does it alter your opinion of Captain Harvest?'

'No, I still do not take him for a callous murderer.'

'Somebody stabbed the fencing master in the back.'

'I thought that you were ready to hang Henry Redmayne for the crime.'

'I felt that the evidence pointed that way,' admitted Jonathan, 'but I've been forced to think again. What I do know is that the man who called himself Captain Harvest is implicated in some way and that means we have to apprehend him. Have you any idea where he might be, Sir Humphrey'

'None at all.'

'When did you last see him?'

'On the night when the murder took place.'

'Has he not tried to get in touch with you since?'

'Why should he do that?'

'Because he needs money,' said Jonathan. 'He left his lodging because he could not pay his rent. Mr Redmayne found him playing cards in a tavern in search of funds. I've only met the fellow twice but I'd say that he was an expert at borrowing money from friends. I wondered if he had come to you, Sir Humphrey.'

'No, Mr Bale!' said the other with more force in his denial than was necessary. 'I've not seen hide nor hair of the fellow. He's had nothing from me, I warrant you. I'd not give him a single penny.'

Jonathan sensed that he was lying.

Lady Whitcombe was not pleased with the outcome of their visit to Fetter Lane. Her hopes that Christopher Redmayne would be able to win over her son had foundered. Egerton Whitcombe had been surly and disobedient, aspects of his character that he took care to hide from his mother as a rule. While the architect had behaved like a gentleman, her son had been boorish and she was determined to wrest an apology out of him. Her daughter, Letitia, was thinking along the same lines.

'Egerton was so disagreeable this morning,' she said. 'He was rude and peevish. What made him behave like that, Mother?'

'I think he's still tired after the difficult crossing from France.'

'You always make excuses for him.'

'I make none in this instance, Letitia. I mean to reprimand him sharply.'

Her daughter giggled. 'I long to hear you do that.'

'It will be done in private,' emphasized Lady Whitcombe. 'But Egerton was not the only person who let me down in Mr Redmayne's house. You behaved badly as well. I want him to admire my daughter yet you make strange noises at him then start to argue with your brother. Truly, I was ashamed of both of you.'

'Mother!' said the girl, tears forming in her eyes. 'Do not be angry with me.'

"Then do not give me cause for anger.'

Letitia lapsed into a bruised silence. They were alone in the parlour of the house where they were staying. Lady Whitcombe had been studying the drawings for her new house and reflecting on the quality of its architect. She was not in the mood for idle conversation with her daughter. Letitia waited several minutes before she dared to speak.