Paul Doherty - The Grail Murders

The oarsmen swept round the bend of the Thames and down past Westminster. The quayside was obscured by the different ships moored there: carracks from Venice, fat sturdy cogs from the Baltic, and fishing smacks getting ready for a night's work. A pleasant enough sight for a trip down the river on a late-autumn evening.

Agrippa, basking in the calmness of the scene, smiled reassuringly at us. Believe me, if I'd known then what lay ahead – mysterious fires, the severed hand of glory, a haunted chapel, witch's curses and decapitated heads dripping blood – I would have slipped over the side of that wherry and swam for dear life to the nearest shore.

My master, however, had more immediate concerns. He looked sleepily back at the disappearing turrets of Westminster Abbey and shook himself alert. 'Why?' he asked abruptly. 'Why what?' Agrippa retorted. 'Why did we have to witness that execution? And was it necessary for us to see Hopkins stretched out on that rack?'

Such thoughts had occurred to me so I stared curiously at Agrippa. He chewed on his lip as he tore his gaze away from the bank. The colour had returned to his eyes. Now they looked dark blue rather than that clear, glass-like appearance they always assumed when Agrippa witnessed any violence or bloodshed.

'In a few days,' the good doctor whispered, 'we will know all. But I tell you this: Buckingham, albeit a fool, died an innocent man.' I stared at him in amazement.

'Oh, yes,' Agrippa continued. 'He may have been a secret Templar. He may even have been searching for the Grail and Arthur's Sword. But, according to Hopkins, that's all Buckingham was interested in.'

'So what proof of treason did the King produce at Buckingham's trial?'

'The testimony of Taplow, Buckingham's agent in London. Mind you,' Agrippa peered into the gathering mist, 'Buckingham is not the only one to lose his life over this matter.' He looked squarely at Benjamin. 'Did you know Calcraft?' 'A little.'

'Well, he was one of Mandeville's most trusted agents: a good man, a subtle scurrier who could worm out secrets and trap those plotting against the crown.'

'Yes, yes, I know,' Benjamin replied, 'I met Master Calcraft on one occasion. He had a face as sour as wormwood and was skilled in putting treasonable words into other men's mouths. Why, what mischief is he up to now?'

'Probably dancing with the devil,' Agrippa replied with a smile. 'Calcraft's dead! He was garrotted only a stone's throw from Richmond.'

'So these secret Templars may be striking back against Mandeville's men?'

'Perhaps. Calcraft was instrumental in sending Buckingham to the block. Anyway, he's gone.' 'Which is why dear Uncle sent for us?'

'Of course; Mandeville still has another agent, Warnham, investigating Buckingham's cover but Uncle wants you!'

'And our attendance at Buckingham's execution was to concentrate our minds.'

Agrippa smiled and nodded. 'The Lord Cardinal knows human nature well,' he replied. 'Master Benjamin, you have been lost in the calm and peace of Ipswich. Buckingham's death was a fitting prelude to the horrors which may await.'

Benjamin leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes whilst Agrippa diverted the conversation to the gossip and petty scandals of the court.

We arrived at Richmond just before dusk. A strange place even though it was relatively new, being rebuilt by the Great Mister, Fat Harry's father in 1490, Richmond was really a series of towers and halls built round a number of courtyards, each containing small orchards or gardens. The walls were covered with trellises of roses, red and white mixed together, to remind everyone that the Tudors united what was best in both the houses of York and Lancaster. The brickwork was ornamented with carvings and strange markings, gargoyles and statues, and each tower was capped by a large onion-shaped cupola. From the highest of these flew the banners of England and the pennants of Wolsey, proclaiming that both the King and his principal minister were now in residence.

Agrippa handed us over to a servant and we were taken to a rather narrow chamber in one of the towers, bleakly furnished with a bed and a few sticks of furniture. A battered painting hung on the wall depicting Noah's departure from the Ark. Benjamin looked around and smiled.

'My good uncle,' he announced sarcastically, 'appears to have the same high opinion of us as always.'

We unpacked our saddle bags then wandered along the corridors, a routine I always insisted on whenever we arrived in any strange place. One of Shallot's golden rules: when you find yourself somewhere strange or new, immediately find the quickest way out for you may well need it. (Only on one occasion did I forget this axiom. A young noblewoman was entertaining me in her bedchamber. I was that interested in seeing her gold-clocked stockings and scarlet garters, I forgot to check the window. When her brother returned unexpectedly, I found myself trapped. I don't recommend standing in a musty wardrobe for three hours whilst furry black rats scurry across your naked feet then return for a swift hungry nibble. Ah well, that's another story!)

We arrived at the buttery where a one-eyed cook refused us food so I knocked a brazier over and, when his back was turned, slipped the spit boy a penny and stole a nicely roasted capon and a loaf of bread. We were in one of the gardens eating our ill-gotten gains when Agrippa hurried up to us.

'Come! Come!' he ordered and, hardly stopping, hurried on, Benjamin and I behind him, greedily finishing our stolen meal. Agrippa took us out of the palace into an overgrown garden which, I realised, also served as a small cemetery. At the back, near the wall, stood a dilapidated charnel house, a small chamber where the corpses of servants who died in the palace would be taken out of the communal coffin and stitched into a cheap canvas sheet.

Agrippa thrust the door open, muttering to himself as he took a tinder and lit a candle. On a low stone slab in the centre of the room lay the corpse of a man, dressed in cheap brown fustian, now soaked and slimed with river water. His boots had been removed and several toes jutted through ragged stockings. He had died young, with a full head of auburn hair, but his face was disgusting and almost unrecognisable: the skin had turned black, tongue protruding out of one side of his mouth, eyes rolled back in their sockets. There were bite marks on his cheeks, probably caused by pike and other river fish. However, what really caught our attention was a cord wrapped tightly round his throat, the little rod the garrotter had used to tighten it still caught in its clever knot. I took one look, turned away and vomited up most of the capon. 'Who is it?' my master whispered.

'John Warnham,' Agrippa replied. 'Calcraft was killed in the same way.'

Benjamin, who seemed to have a stomach made of steel, knelt down and carefully examined the scarlet cord. 'It's like piping,' he commented. 'From someone's cloak.'

He peered at the knot. I watched him, trying not to glimpse that grotesque, blackened face. Benjamin got up, wiping the dust from his knees, went out and stood in the darkening garden. Agrippa and I followed. 'When was he found?'

'Early this morning in one of the carp ponds down near the river.' 'How long has he been dead?' 'He disappeared about two days ago.'

'Whoever did that,' Benjamin replied, 'was proficient with the garrotte.' He gently touched his own throat and half-smiled at me. 'Beware of the garrotte, Roger, the most skilled assassin, and it could be a mere child, could have his cord round your neck and choke out your life's breath within seconds. Did you know that?'

(At the time I didn't, and shook my head. But now I do! In one of my journals I'll tell you about bribing the Black Eunuch who was master of the harem in Constantinople. A terrible place with its marble walls, golden cups, scented gardens and silent death. The Turks do not believe in public executions. Instead they have a group of deaf mutes nicknamed 'The Gardeners', who carry scarlet cords. If a man or woman displeases the Sultan, the sign is given, 'The Gardeners' appear and strangulation takes place within seconds.