Andrew Swanston - The King's Return

Josiah was shown into the sitting room and stood with both hands resting on his stick. ‘They told me I’d find you ’ere, sir,’ he said to Joseph. ‘Is Miss Stewart well?’

‘She will be after a rest,’ replied Joseph, ‘no thanks to Mr Hill.’ Josiah shot a look at Thomas, who shrugged. ‘What brings you here, Mottershead?’

‘Progress, sir, I ’ope. I didn’t get much from my contacts – none of them ’ad seen a new face about – so I visited the tradespeople. Often the best sources, the grocers and butchers, seem to know what’s going on. There’s a baker near the Palace. When I asked ’im ’ow business was, ’e was very keen to talk. Told me all about ’is customers and what they bought. Eat a lot of bread, those churchmen, ’e told me. Thought it must be on account of all the wine they drink in church. So I egged ’im on a bit, one thing led to another, and ’e was soon telling me about a lady who buys a loaf every morning. Insists on one of the first batch out of the oven. Won’t stand for anything less. The baker didn’t know why, as all ’is loaves are just the same.’

Joseph was getting impatient. ‘Where is this leading, Mottershead?’

‘I was just getting to it, sir. The baker said that the lady ’adn’t been in the area very long. Thought she must ’ave been set up in an ’ouse nearby by some gentleman. It ’appens a lot these days. ’Enrietta’s always losing them.’

‘Why would he think that?’

‘She dresses like a lady, ’e said, all silks and satins and ribbons, but she can’t ’ide ’er voice. Voice like an ’ore, ’e said. And a real lady wouldn’t go out to buy bread ’erself. She’d send a servant, unless she ’asn’t got one. If she’s ’iding someone or something, she might not ’ave one. Not good at keeping secrets, servants, in my experience.’

‘And?’

‘She’s been buying two loaves every morning, instead of one. The baker reckons ’er gentleman is staying with ’er.’

‘Is that all?’ Josiah’s face fell.

‘It could be ’im, sir. And I ’aven’t got anything else. The baker ’asn’t seen ’im.’

‘Did you find out where she lives?’

‘Yes, sir. I did get that out of the baker. Didn’t go there, mind. Didn’t want to alert ’im, if ’e was there.’

Joseph turned to the other two. ‘We are only guessing that Stoner is in Lambeth. He might as easily be in Paris. It’s very little, but all we’ve got for the moment. We will look into it ourselves. I suggest you take Mr Carrington and Mr Hill, if they’re willing, Mottershead, and pay the lady a visit. Quietly, if you please. No need to alarm the neighbours.’

‘I’m willing,’ said Charles, ‘and so is Thomas. Aren’t you, Thomas?’

‘I suppose I must be.’

‘Good. Then we’ll go at once. If it is Stoner, Joseph, we’ll bring him to you.’

THEY CROSSED THE river by wherry from Whitehall Stairs and walked along the south bank towards Lambeth. The row of houses that Josiah led them to was no more than a musket shot from Lambeth Palace. The houses were quite new, two storeys high, brick-built, with tiled roofs and latticed windows. It was a quiet, respectable place in which a prosperous man wanting to escape the bustle of the city might choose to live. Here on the outskirts of London there were few beggars and pickpockets. Josiah pointed to the fourth house in the row. ‘That’s it. The one with closed shutters. She lives there.’

‘What’s our plan?’ asked Charles, fingering the hilt of his sword. Today he had brought only one.

‘We should let ourselves in through the back, sir,’ replied Josiah. ‘An approach from the front might send them running.’

‘Or even shooting,’ agreed Thomas. ‘Do you know what’s at the back, Josiah?’

‘No, sir, but it won’t take long to find out.’

They followed him round to the back of the row, where a narrow path ran between the houses and one of the many streams which meandered down to the Thames, taking with it the waste from the houses and their occupants. The window shutters at the back of the fourth house in the row were also closed, as was the back door. Josiah produced his set of instruments, inserted one of the nails into the lock and twisted. When nothing happened, he tried another nail. With a little persuasion, the second one worked.

There was no one in the kitchen and no sign of anyone on the ground floor. Either the occupants were away or they were in a bedroom. It had better be Stoner. It would be embarrassing to disturb a perfectly innocent couple in their bed. Copying Josiah, they kept to the edge of the stairs where there was less chance of the timbers squeaking. At the top they found a narrow landing off which there were three doors. Josiah signalled to them to listen at each one.

Charles put his ear to the first and shook his head. It was the same with the second door. But when Thomas bent his head to the third door he heard the sound of regular breathing. Someone was asleep in there. He pointed at the door and nodded. Josiah stepped forward, kicked open the door and swept in. Charles, sword in hand, was close behind. Thomas stood at the door to prevent any sudden attempt at escape.

The drapes of the four-poster bed were open, revealing two bodies with their backs to the door, a sheet covering only their lower halves. Charles put the tip of his sword to the neck of the nearer one while Josiah slipped around the bed and held his stick at the head of the other. It happened so quickly that neither body moved and they barely had time to open their eyes.

To Thomas’s astonishment, Josiah burst out laughing. ‘Well I’ll be buggered, Molly Romp, fancy finding you ’ere. ’Enrietta told us you’d cleared off. Didn’t know you were living like a lady in Lambeth. She will be pleased to see you again.’

‘What the fuck are you doin’ ’ere, Josiah Mottershead?’ she squawked. ‘You won’t find no jewels to thieve ’ere. Fuck off and leave us in peace.’

‘It’s not jewels we’re after, my lovely, it’s your gentleman friend. Got a bit of explaining to do, ’e ’as. Up you get now and put some clothes on, there’s a good girl.’ Molly swore mightily, then wriggled off the bed and grabbed a dress from the back of a chair.

‘I don’t know what you’re up to, Josiah Mottershead, but it ’ad better be good. This gentleman ain’t done nothing wrong and neither ’ave I.’ She’s a buxom girl, thought Thomas, watching her dress, and, if I’m not mistaken, with a redhead’s temper. Better keep a eye on her.

So far, the other body had neither moved nor spoken. Charles poked it with his sword. ‘Turn around slowly. Any sudden movement would be a mistake.’ Very cautiously, the body turned. ‘Well, well. Chandle Stoner. And what have you to say for yourself?’

‘I might well ask you the same question, Charles,’ replied Stoner, sitting up. ‘I daresay the magistrate will want to know why you and your accomplices have broken into this house and held its occupants at the point of a sword.’

‘I daresay he might. Not that he’s going to find out. Get up and get dressed and waste no more words. Joseph Williamson would like a talk with you.’ At the mention of Williamson, Stoner’s face betrayed nothing. Watching him closely, Thomas thought that unless the man was innocent he was an accomplished actor. If he had successfully persuaded Charles and Mary to part with their money on false pretences, an actor he must be. Innocence was less likely.

When Molly and Stoner were both dressed, Josiah ripped up a shirt he found on the floor and tied their wrists together. Then he ushered them down the stairs and out of the front door. The moment she was out of the house, Molly started screaming. ‘’Elp, ’elp. Robbers. Murderers. Thieves. Traitors.’ Josiah stepped forward and hit her a sharp blow on the head with his stick.