The Medieval Murderers - House of Shadows

‘How did the meeting with Hay come about in the first place?’

York sighed. ‘Last winter, Hay chartered my ship to transport a consignment of lead pipes from Ireland. It struck me as an odd commission, so I looked inside some of the crates. They contained muskets. Obviously, no one brings guns to London for innocent purposes, so I decided I had better find out what was going on. I thought such initiative might see me given a decent command, instead of the lumbering barges the navy foists on me these days.’

‘And?’ asked Chaloner when York paused.

‘And I asked Hay to dinner, then made one or two treasonous remarks under the pretext of being drunk. The next day I was invited here, to Bermondsey House, to meet others who dislike the current government. Unfortunately, I was unable to learn their identities. I was about to give up when Hay suggested I bring other like-minded seamen into his fold.’

‘Why would he do that?’

‘So I could prove my commitment to his cause, I suppose. And because captains with ships are a valuable commodity in the world of rebellion. Most naval vessels are fitted with cannon, after all.’

‘So you confided in Browne?’

York nodded. ‘He is – was – one of few men I trust. He was going to help me discover the names of the men involved, then we were going to pass the information to Spymaster Williamson – the man in the government responsible for dealing with sedition.’

‘Are you sure Browne thought foiling Hay’s antics was a good idea?’

York stared at him. ‘Of course I am sure! Browne was no traitor! Do you think I would have asked him here if he were? He railed against the government’s incompetence, of course, but who does not?’

Chaloner rubbed his chin. Was that all Browne’s drunken confidences aboard Rosebush had been – an indignant objection to an inept ruling body? Was Browne loyal to the king after all?

‘But he was killed before he could help you,’ he said. ‘Were you there when it happened?’

‘My horse went lame, and I was late for the meeting. By the time I arrived, Browne was dying and most of the conspirators had left.’ York looked deeply unhappy. ‘This is too dirty a business for me. I have done my duty now – I have told a government intelligencer about the plot, and that is all that can be expected of me. I shall return to my ship and-’

‘You will stay and work with Thomas,’ countered Hannah sharply as she rejoined them. She had composed herself, although she was pale. ‘You will introduce him to Hay as a man interested in joining his rebellion, and you will remain with him until he has enough evidence to hang them all. That is what John was going to do – at your instigation – and that is what you will do now.’

York mopped his brow with a dirty handkerchief. ‘I thought Hay and his cronies were just a group of men with more money than sense – that it would be easy to infiltrate them and put an end to their plotting. I wish to God I had never embarked on the matter.’

‘Well, you did, and now it is time to put it right,’ said Hannah harshly. ‘Tell Thomas what you have arranged.’

York’s expression was haggard, and Chaloner was impressed that Hannah was able to bully the man – York was no weakling, to be intimidated by just anyone. ‘I told Hay that I might bring a Captain Garsfield to meet him today – Garsfield is one of the names you used when you sailed with Browne. Hay wanted to know why you were willing to see the government overthrown, so I told him your sister had been despoiled by the Duke of Buckingham. It was the first thing that came into my head.’

Chaloner regarded him uneasily. As a spy, he was used to assuming false identities, but he preferred to invent them himself. He did not know enough about ships to be able to answer detailed questions about the sea, and he would be caught out unless he was careful. However, using Buckingham as an excuse for resentment was clever – the lecherous duke was unable to walk past a pretty woman without attempting to seduce her, and complaints from outraged brothers and fathers were myriad.

‘Hay is expecting us this afternoon,’ said York when Chaloner nodded cautious agreement to the plan. ‘And there is to be a gathering of traitors at midnight.’

Chaloner left the glade only when he was certain that Hannah and York had no more to tell him. Both had theories about the identity of Browne’s killer, and it was not easy to distinguish between fact and supposition. Eventually he managed to deduce that there were six possible suspects for the murder. First, there was Hay, the rebel leader. He had two deputies named Strutt and Parr. Strutt had once been purser aboard Rosebush ; apparently he had proved to be dishonest, and he and Browne had ended up hating each other. Meanwhile, Parr had also crossed swords with Browne in the past, although Hannah and York did not know how or why. Both had been at Bermondsey House the night Browne had died, although only Strutt had exchanged words with him. Then there was Castell, who lent his home to anyone willing to pay – and Chaloner knew from gossip at White Hall that he was an unscrupulous rogue. And lastly there were the two sailors, Walduck and Tivill, one of whom had already been hanged.

‘This is sheer madness,’ said York when Hannah had gone and he and Chaloner were heading for Bermondsey House’s main door. ‘Browne was murdered , so why should I put my head in the lion’s mouth too? You are a skilled intelligencer. Can you not listen at a few doors for the answers Hannah wants? I will wait in the nearest alehouse, and we will report to her together tomorrow.’

‘Listening may not be enough. We shall need to ask questions too.’

‘ You ask them, then,’ said York firmly. ‘I intend to distance myself from you, lest there is trouble. After all, one of us should be alive to tell Hannah that her demands were unreasonable.’

Chaloner was not surprised to learn that he could not count on help from York, but he was still disappointed in the man. However, York kept fiddling with the elegant lace on his bib-like collar, a gesture that revealed increasing agitation, and Chaloner suspected that he would not make for a reliable ally anyway. As usual, it was better to work alone.

While he walked along the overgrown path, he thought about what he had learned. Had Browne really been killed because Hay or one of his followers realized he was there under false pretences? Or had Browne embraced the cause rather too eagerly, which had been regarded as equally suspect by the conspirators? He glanced at the man at his side, wondering whether he should be regarded as a suspect too. Was York loyal to the government, as he claimed, or had he killed Browne when he realized his friend intended to run to the spymaster with his tale of treason?

They reached the door, and their knock was answered by an elderly woman who was smoking a pipe. York murmured to Chaloner that she was Margaret Castell, grandmother to the current tenant. She wore a threadbare wig, the heel of one boot was tied on with twine, and she looked as dilapidated and disreputable as the house in which she lived.

‘Have you brought it?’ she demanded without preamble. ‘The gunpowder you promised me?’

‘Gunpowder?’ echoed York with a nervous gulp. ‘I promised you no gunpowder.’

‘You said you have a ship,’ snapped Margaret impatiently. ‘And ships have cannon. When I said I was in need of a few barrels of powder, I thought it was obvious that I was giving you a hint.’

‘Well, I did not understand your hint, madam,’ said York, alarmed. ‘I am a plain-talking man and not one for sly innuendoes. But we have business with your grandson. Where is he?’