Paul Doherty - The Gallows Murders

Ramasden ceased his pacing. He came over and kicked me on the sole of my boot.

'No, sir, I am not. I'm talking of the stupid drunk, sweating like a pig, who fell into a swoon just inside the churchyard. A silly woman believed a beggar who examined the man and said he was infected.' 'And the explosion?' Benjamin asked.

'A trail of powder,' Ramasden replied. ‘I.aid in a gulley which ran into one of the derelict tombs.' He shook his head. 'Nothing but a magnificent fart.' He hawked and spat on the church floor. "Didn't you see him?' Ramasden stared accusingly at us. He squatted down and poked me in the chest. ‘How do I know you didn't take it yourself?' If you poke me again…!' I shouted.

'If you poke me again,' Benjamin repeated, ‘I’ll see you in the Tower, sir!' My master got to his feet, dragging me with him, and stared coolly at Ramasden. The gold has been taken by a subtle device and the rogue will be long gone. I shall report as much to my uncle the Cardinal.'

Ramasden stepped back, muttering apologies. Benjamin ignored him. He plucked at my sleeve and almost hurried me out of the cathedral, down past Paternoster Row to a small tavern built alongside Blackfriars Wall. "Now's not the time for eating and drinking!' I moaned. There is little more we can do’ Benjamin replied.

‘We could search for that beggar who raised the alarm, or make inquiries about who laid the gunpowder.'

Benjamin smiled. Hoger, do you think anyone in St Paul's churchyard saw what happened and, if they did, would any of those wolvesheads tell us the truth? We could spend hours making fools of ourselves.'

"But it must be someone from the Tower,' I said. 'Gunpowder is stored there.'

'Aye,' Benjamin sighed. "But it can also be bought, stolen, or even made. What we have to do, Roger, is discover whether Kemble, Vetch, Spurge, Mallow, or any one of those hangmen, were absent from the Tower this morning.' 'And if they are not?’

Then, dear Roger, we are truly in a pig's mess. Uncle will be furious. The King's rage…'

He paused as a servant brought us a tankard of ale and a platter of stew and vegetables. The King's rage can only be imagined!'

I dropped my horn spoon and gripped my belly. Once the news reached Windsor, the Great Beast would be bellowing. Herne the Hunter had publicly promised that I would bring the King safely through his present troubles. Now he was two thousand pounds poorer and the rumours of this blackmail were spreading further. I picked up my horn spoon again. Then it's back to the Tower, Master.'

'Oh no. We first have to check on Mistress Under-shaft's new-found wealth.'

I ate morosely. After we had finished, I followed Benjamin along the busy, crowded streets, up through the dirt and mess of Newgate and down into Cheapside. An apprentice boy pointed out Thurgood the goldsmith's shop. We found him in his counting-house; a thick-necked, fleshy-faced man, with eyes which could assess your wealth in a few seconds. He took one look at us and returned to his ledger, so Benjamin whispered in his ear and Thurgood sprang up like a jack-in-a-box, all servile and eager to please.

'Oh, yes, yes.' The words came out in a hiss of pleasure. "Mistress Undershaft.' He moved the manuscripts from his table, pulled out a calf-bound ledger and opened it. 'Just after her husband's sad demise.' The goldsmith's eyelids fluttered in what he thought was a look of condolence. 'A beneficiary deposited a hundred pounds in gold in her name.'

Benjamin whistled under his breath. 'But that's a fortune!' The goldsmith spread his hands. 'Such bequests are not unknown.' 'When was it made?' I asked.

Thurgood leafed through the ledger and pointed to an entry; the date was about a week after her husband's death. It showed the amount deposited under Thurgood's seal.

'And before you ask, good masters, the person wished to hide his identity. He was cloaked, cowled and masked. The transaction was very swift: the gold was in good coin.'

'Didn't it concern you who he was?' Benjamin asked. 'And wasn't a receipt sought?'

'Master Daunbey, Master Daunbey.' The fellow smiled like a schoolmaster facing a thick-headed pupil. ‘I am a goldsmith; such transactions are common.'

'How would the beneficiary know you passed the gold on?' I asked crossly.

'Because I issued a tally receipt,' Thurgood snarled. All it gave was the date, the amount received, and who was to receive it. I then informed Mistress Undershaft.' He drew his head back as if I stank. 'If I'd failed to carry out the request,' he snapped, 'I'd be no more than a felon – and that, sir, I am not!' He threw the ledger back on the table. 'I can tell you no more.'

Benjamin and I left his shop and walked into Cheapside. A young girl ran up, dressed shabbily, her face blackened with dirt. A little boy, probably her brother, grasped one hand; her other hand held a small inflated bladder. She stopped in front of Benjamin, put the bladder down, and pushed a scrap of parchment into my master's palm. Then, before he could stop her, she grabbed her young companion and the inflated bladder and disappeared into the crowd. The parchment was screwed up tightly. My master unfolded it and we both stared at the message inscribed in elegant pen strokes:

'On behalf of my noble master, Edward King of England, Scotland, France, etc. I accept, as his due, the two thousand pounds returned to its rightful owner, signed Francis Lovell, Viscount Titchmarsh. Given at the Tower this twenty-eighth day of August'. "Who, in heaven's name, is Lovell?' I asked. Benjamin stared down at the message.

'Haven't you heard the doggerel rhyme, Roger? "The cat, the rat and Lovell the dog rule all England under the hog". The hog or boar was Richard the Third's emblem. He had three henchmen: Ratcliffe, Catesby and Sir Francis Lovell. The first two died at Bosworth in 1485, but Lovell escaped the battle and supported later Yorkist plots against Henry the Seventh. He invaded England in 1487 and fought at the battle of East Stoke in Nottinghamshire: afterwards he disappeared.' Benjamin shook his head. It can't be him, surely? If he was still alive, Lovell would be ancient.'

They are mocking us,' I exclaimed. "Master, they are mocking us.'

Benjamin just shook his head and walked off into the crowds. Muttering and cursing under my breath, I followed. Now and again I turned round to see if anyone was watching us. If I had caught the bastard who had sent that message, I would have dirked him on the spot, but there was no one. We hurried down to Queenshithe and hired a wherry to take us up-river to the Tower. We found the fortress heavily guarded, drawbridge up, portcullis down. It took a great deal of screaming and shouting at a guard who peered out at us from the Lion Gatehouse before Kemble appeared and gave us permission to enter.

The drawbridge fell in a rumble of chains, the portcullis creaked up like the jagged teeth of some dragon. Benjamin became even more disconcerted.

‘It cannot be anyone in the Tower, Roger,' he muttered. 'Beloved Uncle gave orders that, on this particular day, no officer or member of the Tower garrison should enter the city.'

'So, the villain who collected that money and sent that impudent message…?'

Benjamin shrugged. ‘We have to accept it, Roger: whoever he or she is, they do not live in the Tower.'

Kemble was waiting for us beyond the gateway. He took one look at Benjamin's face and shook his head mournfully. 'The gold was taken!' ‘Yes, it was stolen!' Benjamin snapped.

Sighing heavily, Kemble took us up into his chamber in the royal quarters where Vetch and Spurge were also waiting. They had apparently been spending their time feasting; the ragged remains of a pheasant lay on a platter. Kemble was sobersided, but Vetch and Spurge looked flushed and bright-eyed.