Paul Doherty: The Gallows Murders

There's no real hurry,' he remarked. 'Our meeting with all our acquaintances here in the Tower is not until four o'clock.'

'Four o'clock, Master!' I exclaimed. What time is it now?' 'I let you sleep until noon,' Benjamin rejoined.

I finished tidying the room. Benjamin refused to be drawn on where he had been the previous night, but he seemed very pleased with himself. He went back and sat at the table until a bell began to toll and we left for the royal quarters.

I remember the sky was overcast: it had been raining and the breeze was strong and fresh. I stretched till my limbs cracked, and watched as others made their way to the constable's chamber, including Ragusa, hobbling on a stick. Kemble, Vetch and Spurge were waiting for us, chairs had been placed round the table, torches and candles lit, giving the room a ghostly appearance. Mallow and his two hangmen sat at a distance from Ragusa, who squatted on a stool, swaying backwards and forwards. Benjamin and I sat on Kemble's left.

Well, Master Daunbey-' Kemble drummed his fingers on the table – 'you have brought us here.'

‘Yes, Constable, I have,' Benjamin replied quickly. 'I have asked all of you to be present to see the King's justice done.'

And, without a by-your-leave, my master rose and walked round the table. He gently laid his hand on Mallow's shoulder.

'John Mallow, formerly known as John Dighton, henchman of the usurper Richard of York, I arrest you for murder, horrible conspiracy, and treason against Your Sovereign Lord, King Henry the Eighth.'

Well, you could have heard a pin drop. Even old Ragusa seemed to have regained her wits and stared, open-mouthed, at Mallow. He just sat there, lips tight, swallowing quickly.

'You have proof, Master Daunbey?' Kemble asked, his eyes wide in surprise. 'Mallow, a traitor, a murderer!'

'Let me explain. Master Vetch, I would be grateful if you would sit on Mallow's right and hold this.' Benjamin quickly bent down and plucked out Mallow's dagger and threw it down the table. Vetch hurried to obey.

'Master Mallow,' Spurge squeaked, 'I have known you for some years.' The little surveyor put out his hands.;For the love of God, tell us this is not true!'

'My name is John Dighton,' Mallow admitted. He rubbed his face in his hands. ‘Forty years ago, when I was a mere stripling, I was hired by one of Richard the Third's henchmen. I worked here in the Tower as the body squire to the two Princes.' He gazed across at Benjamin and, from a flicker in his eyes, I knew something was dreadfully wrong. 'After Richard was killed, I fled to the Isles of Scilly. I married, but my wife died. I became involved in a fight and fled back to London, where I became an apprentice hangman’

"No, no,' Benjamin intervened, that's not the full story, Master Mallow. In the chaos following Bosworth, and before you fled the Tower, you found a leather pouch containing the seals of the young king, Edward the Fifth. You took these treasures, keeping them safe and fresh. On your return you became involved with the Sakker gang, particularly Robert, an able but villainous clerk. Whether you were involved with him before the rest of his family were hanged is neither here nor there.' Benjamin played with the ring on his finger. He refused to look at me. 'No one ever explained why Robert was not arrested by Master Pelleter the under-sheriff.' He straightened in his chair. 'Anyway, out of your friendship with Sakker came these horrible conspiracies. A new clerk of the stores had been appointed, a bachelor, a man with little family, Philip Allardyce. You knew when he was coming from Dover and what road he would be travelling. Sakker either followed or was waiting for him. Whatever, Sakker killed Allardyce and took his identity. He then disguised his appearance and came to work here as a competent, industrious clerk of stores.'

Benjamin paused. I stared round at the rest. They all sat, eyes intent on Benjamin, like his pupils back at our manor school outside Ipswich.

‘You then developed your treasonable design,' Benjamin continued. 'However, on the night of the King's birthday, a party was held here. God knows what happened. I suspect you and Master Sakker were deep in conversation and your words were overheard. However, in the poor light, and with all your colleagues being masked and cowled, you could not tell who it was.' Benjamin drew from his pouch the scrap of parchment Mistress Undershaft had given him. He held this up for all to see. This is a diagram drawn by one of the dead hangmen. I think it's of a gallery here in the Tower, and marks the room where you and Sakker had your treasonable conversation.'

I hid my own surprise at Benjamin's explanation, and glanced across at the chief hangman; he sat as if carved out of stone.

'Nevertheless,' Benjamin continued, 'this suited Master Sakker. He not only wanted to blackmail the King and become rich, but also to carry out revenge against those who had executed his family. You became his accomplice in this. Sakker was cunning. He knew he could not push Fortune's wheel too quickly. If the hangmen started dying, people might remember him, and inquiries might be made, so once again he faked his death, a victim of the sweating sickness.' Benjamin tapped my arm. 'Master Shallot here has had the same contagion and, with a few chosen herbs, it is easy to simulate.'

'But,' Snakeroot interrupted, 'Ragusa here, she looked after him.. ‘

'No, no,' old Ragusa replied. ‘You.' She pointed at Benjamin. "With your narrow face and clever eyes, you have it right. All I did was mop his body' ‘But people visited him,' Spurge interrupted.

'A brief glance,' Benjamin replied. 'Everyone's terrified of the sweating sickness, so they kept their distance.'

True, true,' Ragusa crooned. 'It's always the way' She smiled shrewdly across at Benjamin and held up her hands. ‘You knew I felt for a death pulse, but with these old, arthritic fingers I can feel very little. He lay sprawled there, eyes half open, so I wrapped him in a sheet and left him.'

'And that's where Mallow intervened,' Benjamin declared. 'Mistress Ragusa likes her drink. Sometimes she falls into a stupor, at others she goes wandering round the Tower. Mallow had another corpse ready which he'd brought through that hidden postern-gate. Sakker springs up full of life, this other corpse is wrapped and tied. The guards collect it and it is taken down to the Lion Gate. Sakker was now free. He washed the dye out of his hair and dressed in new clothes, and left the Tower by that secret postern-door. Now he was free to carry out revenge and other villainies. When the sickness was raging at its height, Undershaft was slain, stabbed, garrotted or his head staved in. At the dead of night, his corpse was pushed into the cage at Smithfield, and a blazing fire kindled beneath him.' Benjamin shrugged. ‘Who'd care in a city when hundreds are dying every day?'

'But at the same time,' Vetch intervened, 'Sakker was running round the city leaving messages in St Paul's, Westminster or in Cheapside.'

'Precisely,' Benjamin agreed. The time was ripe: the city was ravaged by the sickness. His Grace the King was fearful that, if these letters were published abroad, people might see the sickness as God's vengeance on his family's seizure of the throne. At last the sweating sickness ended. The Tower was reopened, and Sakker could come and go as he wished. Sometimes he entered as he left, by that secret doorway overlooking the moat. Mallow would know about that: in his youth he had served here and would know every nook and cranny. At other times, Sakker – the master of disguise – came in as one of the labourers working for the masons on the wall. They never objected. They thought he had been sent by Spurge. And why should he or they object to more help?

'Sakker now has the run of the Tower,' Benjamin went on. 'He can come and go as he pleases, whilst Mallow keeps an eye on what is going on. Sakker followed my companion after he visited you, Mistress Ragusa, and pushed him into the wolf-pit. He'd already trapped Horehound and killed him, put him into a sack and cast him into the Thames. Hellbane, drunk as a sot, was an easy victim, whilst Wormwood, before he was put on the rack, was probably clubbed senseless.' Benjamin spread his hands. 'And that's the evil beauty of this design. Sakker is a labourer, his fair hair covered in dust, dressed in tattered clothes; no one would suspect he was once clerk of the stores. Once he's out of the Tower, Sakker can carry on his villainies in the city, posting proclamations, collecting gold, or baiting us. It was a subtle scheme: Sakker had his vengeance against the hangmen, committed gross impudence against the Crown, and was about to become very rich.' Benjamin pointed across the table. ‘You, Master Mallow, as one of the former keepers of the young Princes, knew how our present King is most fearful of any rumours about their whereabouts.'