Paul Doherty: The Gallows Murders

Now it was not often in my life I saw Benjamin lost for words, but he was as dumbstruck as myself. For a while he stood and gaped at Kemble before walking back on to the green. I followed, and Kemble caught up with us.

'It's true what I say,' he declared. 'Master Daunbey -' he stared round at the rest – 'come with me.'

We returned to his chamber. Benjamin slumped on to a stool at the huge oval table, whilst Kemble went to rummage amongst coffers and chests. Vetch, Spurge, Mallow and the other hangmen came in; they were fascinated by Benjamin's revelation.

'I would never have guessed,' Vetch whispered to me. He was an amiable soul but rather quiet, kept to himself

'He hardly spoke to us,' Mallow trumpeted. 'Really, Master Daunbey, are you saying this Philip Allardyce was really Robert Sakker?’ Benjamin nodded, his eyes never leaving Kemble.

At last the constable gave a cry and came back to the table, a small scroll in his hand. He tossed this to Benjamin who unrolled it. The seal and signature were immediately recognisable:

Thomas Wolsey, Cardinal, Archbishop, Chancellor, to his faithful servant Sir Edward Kemble, Constable of the Tower, etc'

The letter then went on to recommend Philip Allardyce, clerk of the stores of Dover Castle, to the vacant clerkship at the Tower. The letter described the fees, robes, etc, which would be his due: it had been sealed eight months earlier by Wolsey's own chancellor. 'It's no forgery,' Benjamin said.

"But if this Sakker could forge letters supposedly from Edward V, why not from Our Lord Cardinal?' Vetch cried.

Benjamin shook his head and tapped the letter. 'I know my own uncle's signature.' He looked up at Kemble, who sat down at the top of the table. 'So this Allardyce arrived eight months ago?'

‘Yes, just after the Epiphany. I wasn't here when he arrived. I was away in my manor house, still celebrating Yuletide.'

'So to whom did he present this letter?' Benjamin asked.

‘Why to me, sir,' Vetch replied. 'I am the constable's deputy, but I saw nothing amiss.' His smooth face became more worried. 'How was I to know?' His voice rose. 'A young man comes into the Tower armed with a letter from His Excellency the Cardinal, not to mention other documents. I remember it well. I accepted the letter and provided him with quarters.' He shrugged. To all intents and purposes, Allardyce was; Allardyce, a quiet, industrious, most competent clerk.'

'He did good work.' Spurge spoke up. 'Cataloguing the goods in the stores, making sure that all was in order, never once was he found wanting.' 'Is this true, Sir Edward?' Benjamin asked.

Kemble nodded. 'I had few dealings with him myself. I can add nothing to what has been said. The man calling himself Allardyce was soberly dressed, loyal and obedient.' 'And didn't he talk to any of you?' Benjamin asked. 'Surely there were festivities? He ate and drank?' ‘He was very reserved,' Mallow declared. What about the King's birthday party?' I asked.

'Don't forget, Master Shallot-' Mallow preened himself at being able to correct me – 'those festivities are intended for the Guild of Hangmen.' 'Bugger that!' I snorted. 'Did he come or didn't he?'

'Yes he did,' Snakeroot sneered, but he drank rather deeply early on in the evening, then disappeared.'

I could see Benjamin was bemused, so I whispered that we should withdraw. My master agreed, picking up the letter Kemble had thrown at him; he muttered that no one in the Tower should leave without his permission. We left and returned to our own quarters.

Once we were back in the chamber, Benjamin slammed the door behind him. He sat at the table, head in hands, refusing to answer my flow of questions. At last he sighed and sat back in his chair.

'Do you think, dear Roger, that this could be one of beloved Uncle's tricks?' ‘You mean…?'

‘I mean dear Uncle is not above frightening the King.' Benjamin shook his head. ‘No, no, that's unworthy of me.' He drew a deep breath. ‘We have constructed a hypothesis, Roger, that Philip Allardyce was really Robert Sakker who feigned his own death to remove him from any suspicion whilst he carried on his wickedness in the city. Now,' Benjamin paused and rubbed his chin, ‘What happens if that hypothesis is incorrect? What if Allardyce was who he claimed to be? Died of the plague and his soul's gone to his Maker?' He gazed bleakly at me. 'Can't you see, Roger? I thought that Allardyce's appointment was the work of someone in the Tower but, if it was due to beloved Uncle-'

'It would be known to others,' I snapped. 'Your uncle's Chancery would inform the Tower about who was going to fill the vacancy.'

I recalled that old hunting lodge in the forest on the country road, the clothes burnt in the hearth. 'Master, I believe Sakker was also told this, and that he trapped Allardyce at Maidstone. He killed him and fled, but not before he exchanged documents. He took your uncle's letter, and anything else Allardyce carried, disguised himself, and turned up at the Tower. And who would be suspicious? Dover's a good journey from London and, if inquiries are made, Sakker could always flee into the city.' I pulled a stool across and sat beside him. 'Master, your uncle's involved in no villainy here. This is too dangerous. The King would have his head. No, Sakker killed Allardyce, took his identity and came to the Tower. As I have said, who'd suspect? Moreover, Sakker's accomplice is also in the Tower and ready to protect him. Once we have unmasked him, we'll catch Sakker.'

'I don't think so,' Benjamin snapped. 'What happens, Roger, if you were Sakker's mysterious accomplice? You now realise that we suspect the truth: Sakker has been unmasked as a wanted felon, not only for the depredations he committed on the Canterbury road, but for the death of the real Allardyce, the murder of the hangmen, as well as treason and blackmail directed against the King.' Benjamin ticked the points off on his fingers.

'Sakker's an impudent rogue,' I interrupted, 'able to slip in and out of places like the mist. He's also a master of disguise. I am sure the veiled woman who turned up to see Master Quicksilver was no less a person than Master Sakker himself. I think he's got the impertinence to brazen this matter through.'

'In which case, Roger, I ask you again: what would you do if you were Sakker's accomplice?'

I paused, staring at the light streaming through the arrow-slit windows.

'He's different,' I said. ‘He's safe as long as the mask drawn over his villainy is not torn away. He knows we are scuttling about like mice in the dark. You do realise that, Master? Never once have we found any evidence to lay against the people we've just left in Kemble's chamber.' 'So?' Benjamin persisted. Where's the weakness?'

Well, we could stumble on something.' I smiled. 'Or we could catch Sakker!'

"Let's press the matter further, Roger,' Benjamin declared. What happens if this secret accomplice thinks likewise, that Sakker is more of a danger than an asset, and that he must be killed. But Sakker is a very dangerous man. What would you do?'

'I'd probably invite him to meet me, not in the city but somewhere near the Tower, perhaps a little further up-river on the wild wastes along the bank of the Thames.'

'And he'll do it tonight,' Benjamin cursed under his breath. ‘I regret revealing that secret entrance.' He grabbed his cloak. We'd best go!'

We left the Wakefield Tower. Benjamin first decided to visit Ragusa. We found her sprawled out on a bed of rough sacking. At first I thought she was dead: Benjamin crouched down, wrinkled his nose at the smell of ale, and slapped her gently on the face. The old woman simply smacked her lips, moaning quietly in her sleep. I felt her hands, they were ice-cold, the fingers stiff and gnarled.