Paul Doherty - The White Rose murders

'So he must control Scotland,' my master intervened quickly.

'Yes,' Wolsey answered. 'Scotland must be controlled. King Henry thought he could do this through the marriage of his sister to James IV but that came to naught. Indeed, the marriage was a disaster and worse followed: James began negotiations with France, which threatened to crush England between the teeth of two pincers, Scotland in the north, France in the south. Henry begged his sister to intervene and Margaret did what she could.' He paused and stared at the jewels sparkling on his purple-gloved fingers. 'Old Surrey saved the day,' he murmured, 'that and Margaret's intense hatred for her own husband.' He glanced up at Benjamin. 'Oh, you were right, dear Nephew,' he continued in a half-whisper, 'the Queen played upon James's mind and undoubtedly had a hand in his murder. Now,' he smiled thinly, 'Scotland has no King, the country is divided and poses no threat to our security.'

'But how did you suspect James was not killed at Flodden?'

'Hell's teeth, Shallot!' Agrippa remarked, quoting my favourite oath. 'You were there. Surrey did comb the battlefield. He found at least six royal corpses, none with a penitential chain around its waist. Our suspicions began then.'

'And Irvine?' I asked.

The cunning Cardinal made a face. 'We already knew that Irvine had discovered rumours of James being seen at Kelso. He probably learnt them from Oswald the moss trooper.'

'But you brought him south and informed Catesby of his arrival?'

'Irvine was a lure,' Agrippa snapped, 'to panic Margaret and Catesby. They rose to the bait.'

Oh, I stored that away. In Wolsey's and Agrippa's eyes, everyone was expendable.

'What will happen now?' Benjamin asked.

'Oh, the King will have a quiet word with his sister Margaret. She will return to Scotland where she will do exactly what we say or face the consequences. The Careys can go with her.'

'And Catesby?' I asked.

'In the Tower,' Agrippa replied, echoing the words of the soldier I had met there, 'are dungeons which just disappear.' He toyed with the silver pentangle which hung round his neck. 'Even now,' he concluded flatly, 'a trusted mason is bricking up the entrance to his cell. We will hear no more of Catesby.'

'There are others!' the Cardinal rasped. 'The lady prioress at Coldstream will answer for her crimes, and the Earl of Angus will receive a sharp rap across the knuckles.'

'Now that puzzles me, dear Uncle.'

'What, Nephew?'

'Why did the Earl of Angus and Queen Margaret become so intimately involved, marry so hastily after Flodden, and so bitterly repent of their impetuous passion?'

Wolsey smiled. 'My noble master, the good King Henry,' he murmured, 'has the Earl of Angus in his pocket.' He pursed his lips. 'No, you deserve to know the full truth. King Henry bought Angus long before Flodden: he was a handsome, charming coxcomb whom Henry paid to seduce his sister.' The Cardinal made a moue. 'After Flodden and Angus's marriage to Margaret, the King could see no point in wasting more good silver.'

Now I just stared dumbstruck. I am a wicked man but here was a Cardinal coolly telling us that a king had paid a nobleman to seduce his own sister, blinding her with passion so that he could control the kingdom she ruled! I suddenly saw the terrible beauty of King Henry's evil design, one repeated by succeeding English monarchs. Even without Flodden, James would have been brought low. Sooner or later Margaret's adulterous liaison would have been discovered. James would have gone to war. Scotland would have been divided as he and the Douglas clan fought to the bitter end.

Do you know something? I once told young Elizabeth about her father's crafty plot and what did she do? Exactly the same! She arranged for that nincompoop Darnley to marry Mary, Queen of Scots. Mary fell in love with Bothwell, there was murder, civil war, and the rest is history. Oh, Lord, the subtle devices of Princes!

Nonetheless, on reflection, Henry wasn't as cunning as he thought. He spent his reign going from one spouse to the next in order to produce lusty male heirs. And what did he get? Poor, mewling Edward. Once he was born Henry tried to get his puny son married to a Scottish princess in the hopes of uniting England and Scotland under one crown. What really warms the cockles of my heart and makes me giggle is that his sister Margaret's escapades turned the whole thing topsy-turvy. Can't you see? (My chaplain shakes his head.) If the young boy, James, was the product of Queen Margaret's adulterous liaison with Douglas, then James's grandson, the present King of Scotland, is also of bastard issue yet, when old Elizabeth dies, he will inherit the crowns of both England and Scotland. Isn't it funny? England and Scotland being ruled by a bastard who is a descendant of bastards! Bluff King Hal must be spinning like a top in Hell!

'You did well, Master Benjamin,' the Cardinal trumpeted. 'You and your friend, Shallot, shall not be forgotten.'

Beside Wolsey, Agrippa grinned like a small, black cat at the Cardinal's pun on my name.

'There will be other matters,' the Cardinal continued airily, 'but for the time being, dearest Nephew, accept this as a token of our appreciation.' He opened a small coffer beside him and tossed a fat, clinking purse to Benjamin. I caught it deftly and hid it beneath my robe.

'You have certain papers?' Agrippa interrupted silkily. 'Master Selkirk's secrets from Paris?'

'You have them now,' my master snapped. 'When you came to collect us this morning, you picked up the casket.'

Agrippa looked at the Cardinal. 'Oh, there's proof enough in there,' he answered. 'James's warrants, your nephew's translation of Selkirk's secret confession. Though,' his eyes flickered towards Benjamin, 'only the copy, not the original.'

'I had that at St Theodore's,' Benjamin replied. 'Catesby seized it off me and destroyed it. You have everything else.'

Agrippa nodded benevolently. Wolsey extended one fat hand for us to kiss and we were dismissed with the Cardinal's praises ringing loudly in our ears.

'Keep walking, Roger!' Benjamin hissed as we strode quickly down the corridor. 'Don't stop, though be most prudent. Every so often make sure we are not being followed.'

Benjamin and I left Westminster as if we planned to take the road north to Holborn but then he suddenly changed his mind and we hurried back into the palace yard, pushing aside servants, clerks and scullions as we ran down to King's Steps on the riverside. Benjamin jumped into a boat, dragging me after him. He rapped out orders to the surprised boatman to pull away immediately and, for twice the fee, to row as fast as he could up river.

The oarsman pulled with a will. Soon we were out in mid-stream hidden by a light river mist.

'What's the matter, Master?' I asked.

'In a while, Roger, the last piece of the puzzle will slip into its rightful place.'

Once we were past the Fleet where the refuse of the city floated in a thick oozy mess on the surface of the river, Benjamin ordered the oarsman to pull in and we disembarked at Paul's Wharf. He tossed some coins at the boatman and we hurried up Thames Street. Now old Shallot thought the game was over. I wanted to stop and stare, drink in the sights, sounds and smells of the city, particularly the fat merchants and their silk-garbed wives and pretty buxom daughters hiding their lovely and lusting faces under caps of gold. Benjamin, however, hurried me on, past beautifully carved, half-timbered houses, their plaster brightly painted and gilded, some a washed cream, others snow white, a few even pink. We ran down stinking alleyways and through the gardens of the rich with their elegant fountains, trimmed hedges and sweet-smelling herb gardens. We continued up Bread Street, then turned right into Watling, cutting across a garden, ignoring the astonished cries of servants and children. We entered Budge Row near the Chancellor's inn. Only then did Benjamin stop at the mouth of an alleyway to see if anyone was pursuing us.