Andrew Swanston - The King's Return

‘Has there been no trace of Stoner at all?’ asked Thomas.

‘None, sir. I’m afraid ’e’s gone.’

‘I won’t have it,’ thundered Charles. ‘The man must be found and hanged.’

‘What do you suggest, Charles?’ asked Mary.

‘I suggest that Josiah takes Thomas and me to his house and that we conduct our own search. I’ll wager there’s a clue there somewhere.’

Josiah looked doubtful. ‘Mr Williamson did make us lift every chest and open every drawer.’

‘Then we’ll do so again, won’t we, Thomas?’

It would be better than pacing the streets. ‘It’s worth a try. Come on, Josiah, no time like the present.’

‘Very well, gentlemen, if that’s what you want I’ll take you there. Just don’t expect to find anything.’

Chandle Stoner’s house was one of the grandest in Cheapside – two storeys high, with glazed and shuttered windows, newly painted walls and beams, and a large oak door. It was the house of a prosperous man.

Josiah produced from his pocket a set of instruments like long nails, tied together with a thin strip of cloth. He chose a nail, inserted it into the lock and twisted gently until they heard the click of the lock opening. He turned the handle and opened the door, taking care to make almost no sound at all. ‘Do you think he’s done this before?’ whispered Charles, with a grin. Picking up his stick, Josiah led them into the house.

When Thomas opened the shutters to let in light, they saw richly embroidered wall hangings and cushions, a fine oak writing table, leather-bound books on the shelves, paintings on the walls, coloured glass bottles and glasses, pewter jugs and tankards and a quantity of plate. There were valuable items in every room – a Flemish tapestry in one bedroom, silk covers from India in another, and a lace tablecloth in the dining room. In the kitchen were dozens of bottles of French and Spanish wine, sacks of flour and sugar and a huge side of beef hanging on a meat hook. Chandle Stoner did not believe in stinting himself or in hiding his wealth. There was no sign of a search having taken place.

‘Are you sure the house has been searched, Josiah?’ asked Charles.

‘Yes, sir. Mr Williamson ordered us to leave it as we found it.’

‘Perhaps he thought Stoner might return and did not want to alert him.’

Just as Joseph’s men had done, they opened every drawer and looked in every cupboard. They found silk stockings and linen shirts, rows of boots and shoes and a closet full of coats and hats. They even took every book off its shelf and searched it for hidden papers. There were none.

‘There are no documents here,’ said Thomas. ‘No letters, no papers, not even a bill of sale from his tailor.’

‘He must have taken anything incriminating with him, or burned it,’ said Charles. ‘Let’s look in the grates.’

The grates in the sitting room and dining room had been cleaned out, but the fireplace in the kitchen was full of ashes. Charles brushed them aside with his boot. Among the ashes were a few scraps of paper. He picked one up. It was the corner of a document, singed but reasonably intact. There was nothing written on it, so he picked up another. Thomas did the same and soon they had a small pile of scraps without a word on them. ‘We didn’t think to look at the ashes,’ said Josiah, a little guiltily.

‘If he did take anything, why burn all this?’ asked Thomas. ‘Keep looking. There may be something.’ While Josiah looked again in every possible hiding place, they carried on sifting the ash, taking care not to damage the small pieces they picked up and added to the pile. ‘I never have understood the saying about a needle in a haystack,’ Thomas said. ‘What would a needle be doing in a haystack and why would anyone look for one there? Looking for a fragment in the ashes would be more appropriate.’

Charles held up a small triangle of paper. ‘Eureka, if that’s the right expression. A fragment in the ashes it is.’ He placed it on the floor and together they peered at it. Thomas made out the letters one . One what? He looked again. The letters were part of a word, not a whole one. None? Stoner? Money? There was no way of telling. He picked up another scrap. On this one the words land and is were just legible.

‘Could be anything,’ observed Charles. ‘Land is cheap, Scotland is full of Scots, anything.’

‘Quite,’ replied Thomas, carefully picking another scrap from the ash. ‘Here’s another bit in the same hand. I think the word is rust . No, trust . I can just see the tail of the t .’

‘ Land, is and trust . Not much to go on.’

He found another, larger piece. ‘Here’s one. I can make out th and Palace . Has Stoner any connection with Lambeth Palace?’

‘Not as far as I know.’

Thomas held up another. ‘This is part of the same letter. The paper is thick and hasn’t completely burned. I can make out the word meet . Meeting someone at Lambeth Palace, do you suppose?’

‘Not the place I’d choose to meet an honest man.’

When there was nothing but ash left, they had bits of two documents. One suggested that Stoner might know a man who lived in or near Lambeth Palace, the other nothing at all. ‘Let me see the first piece again,’ said Thomas. He peered at it so closely that his nose was almost touching the paper. ‘Look at that, Charles. Can you make out a letter before the l of land ?’ He handed the scrap to Charles.

‘Possibly. It could be a c or an r .’

‘I think it’s an r. rland . Morland?’

‘Or Netherland?’

‘Not followed by is .’ He paused and looked around the kitchen. ‘We’re not going to find anything else. We’ll take these four pieces to Joseph and see what he thinks.’

‘I’ll fetch a book to put them in. Wouldn’t want to lose them.’ With the fragments safely in a prayer book, and the prayer book safely in Thomas’s pocket, they left by the back door and went straight to Joseph’s house in Chancery Lane.

Joseph was at home. ‘We found these at Stoner’s house,’ said Thomas. He opened the prayer book and showed him the scraps of paper.

‘I take it there is something written on them.’ Joseph sounded sceptical.

‘There is. Two documents, one with the words meet and th Palace , the other with rland is and trust .’

‘And what are we to make of these fragments?’

‘ th Palace might be Lambeth Palace. If so, Stoner might have met someone there.’

‘In the Palace?’

‘Unlikely. Probably nearby.’

‘It sounds a trifle far-fetched, Thomas.’

‘I know, Joseph, but it’s all we have.’

‘What about the second piece?’

‘You may think this even more far-fetched. rland might be Morland, and trust could simply be trust, or trustworthy, or trusted.’

‘Or mistrust.’

‘Indeed. But, again, it’s all we have.’

Having inspected the fragments for himself, Williamson sat down with his chin on his hand. For some time he said nothing. Then he looked up and said, ‘I am more persuaded by Stoner’s absence and the lack of documents than by these fragments. I shall arrange another search of the house in the hope of discovering more evidence. Meanwhile, Mottershead will go to Lambeth to conduct his usual enquiries. Quietly, mind, Mottershead. If our quarry is there we don’t want to frighten him away. Have you any friends on that side of the river?’

‘I ’ave, sir. There’s one or two who know me there.’

‘Good. Off you go and report back to me the moment you hear anything.’