Paul Witcover - The Emperor of all Things

‘We are men of science here,’ said the Old Wolf, shooting her a stern glance. ‘We deal in facts, my good woman, not superstitions or old wives’ tales.’

‘Superstitions, is it?’ she demanded. ‘Old wives’ tales? God knows I don’t have the learning of men like yourself and Mr Quare, but at least I can recognize the devil’s work when I see it! Spying is one thing, Sir Thaddeus, but I’ll not put my immortal soul at risk by dabbling in witchcraft – no, not if His Majesty himself were to ask it of me!’

‘Then by all means take your leave, Mrs Puddinge. There is no more that you can do here in any case. I’m sure I do not need to add that everything you have heard is to be held in the strictest confidence.’

Despite her words, and the grandmaster’s dismissal, however, she appeared loath to go.

‘Well?’ asked the Old Wolf, raising his eyebrows. ‘Your usual emolument will be waiting,’ he said. ‘With something extra added for your trouble and your diligence in bringing Mr Quare to us.’

‘It’s not that, sir,’ she said, wringing her hands together, her combativeness gone as if it had never existed.

‘What then?’

‘Mr Aylesford,’ she said in a whisper. ‘He’s still out there!’

‘My good woman,’ said Grandmaster Wolfe with the barely patient air of a parent schooling a child in the obvious, ‘you may set your mind at ease on that score. Mr Aylesford is no doubt on his way back to France by now. His cover has been blown. He knows there is naught for him here but interrogation and the hangman’s noose.’

‘Oh, aye, very sensible, I’m sure. But I looked into his eyes, Sir Thaddeus! The man is not sensible. He is a fanatic. A madman! Ask Mr Quare – he’ll tell you!’

Quare, who felt it was rather rich for Mrs Puddinge to be appealing to him now, said nothing.

The Old Wolf, meanwhile, sighed heavily. ‘I am far from trusting Mr Quare’s word on anything at the moment,’ he said. ‘But I will have a journeyman escort you home, Mrs Puddinge. And remain with you overnight. That should be sufficient to put your fears to rest.’

‘Aye, and what about tomorrow, then?’

‘I cannot guarantee your safety,’ the grandmaster said. ‘No one can. Why, just walking down Bishopsgate Street can be fatal. Not to mention the fact that you have chosen of your own free will to become involved in patriotic work that carries a substantial risk. This is something I told you at the outset of your service and have repeated many times since. But it would appear that my warnings have fallen on deaf ears.’

‘I never saw no harm in keeping an eye on my young men like you asked of me, Sir Thaddeus. It were only good business, after all. But this is different. Mr Aylesford is different. He killed three of my young men! Who will want to lodge with me now?’

‘Good Lord, madam, is that your concern?’

‘All I have is Mr Puddinge’s pension and that old house. Now no one will feel safe under my roof.’

‘Why, our journeymen are not so squeamish as that. Besides, the murders took place at the Pig and Rooster – surely it is that establishment which will bear the brunt of any opprobrium, not your own. In any case, Mrs Puddinge, they’ll lodge where I send ’em, and until you give me cause to do otherwise, I’ll keep sending ’em to you. Do we understand each other?’

‘I didn’t mean nothing by it, Sir Thaddeus,’ she said, bobbing a curtsy. ‘A woman’s got to make a living, ain’t she?’

‘Indubitably,’ the grandmaster agreed.

Mrs Puddinge glanced at Quare and coloured. ‘I hope as there are no hard feelings, Mr Quare. You was a good lodger. I only done my duty, and you can’t blame a body for that, can you?’

‘I would appreciate it if you sent my things on to the guild hall, Mrs Puddinge,’ he replied. ‘Once this matter is cleared up, I believe I will seek other lodgings.’

‘There’s no cause to get huffy,’ she said, flushing more deeply still. ‘Your things will be safe with me. I run an honest house, I do. But, not to put too fine a point on it, if it’s a French spy you are, Mr Quare, why, then by law your things are rightfully mine, as it were me that nicked you. So if you don’t mind, I’ll be holding on to them for now.’

‘I do mind,’ he said.

‘That’s as may be. If, God willing, you’re found innocent, then you can come and fetch everything – after payment of a small storage fee, of course. Good day, sirs.’ With a stiff nod to Quare, and another curtsy to Grandmaster Wolfe, she left the study, escorted out by one of the servants.

‘A formidable woman,’ said the Old Wolf once she had gone. ‘I sometimes think that if we could but ship a hundred like her across the Channel, the war would be won in no time.’

‘Sir Thaddeus—’

‘Have no fear for your possessions, Mr Quare. I have already dispatched agents to bring everything here.’

‘Thank you for that, at least.’

‘I have not done it for your sake, but so that we may examine your things with a fine-toothed comb. Once we are done, if you are judged to be a spy, then what is left – after the Crown has taken its share – will indeed go to Mrs Puddinge. That is the law. Now, sir. Let us return to the matter at hand.’

‘I will not lie about Master Magnus,’ Quare said. ‘He suffered enough calumny while alive. I’ll not add to it now, when he can no longer defend himself.’

‘Noble sentiments, no doubt.’ The Old Wolf leaned back in his chair – it creaked ominously – and regarded him for a moment, placid blue eyes unblinking. Then, seeming to come to a decision, he leaned forward again, to the accompaniment of further creaking, and placed his elbows on the desk, careful to avoid coming anywhere near the watch . ‘You must consider the living, Mr Quare, and leave the dead to bury the dead. That is my advice to you. Now that Master Magnus is gone, I will be taking his place at the head of the Most Secret and Exalted Order. In these perilous times, it no longer makes sense – if it ever did – to divide the reins of guild authority between two men. I have already appointed Master Malrubius to assist me.’

Quare flinched at the name. Master Malrubius modelled himself upon the Old Wolf in his style of dress, his mannerisms, even his very girth; but the man was physically and mentally smaller than his model, and the contrast made him an object of ridicule and contempt among the apprentices and journeymen. But he was also an object of fear, for his dull wits did not preclude the frequent use of his fists, which were not at all dull. They struck with the force of small hammers.

Meanwhile, the Old Wolf had continued to address him. ‘I do not yet know if Master Magnus was a traitor to his guild and his king – and do not imagine, by the way, that your testimony alone will acquit or convict him; you are not as important as all that, Mr Quare. It is the master’s own writings that will testify most strongly to his guilt or innocence, and we have only just begun to sort through them; as you know, he was not what could be called an orderly man, at least not where his papers were concerned. But regardless of whether or not he was a French spy, it is already clear that Master Magnus used the regulators as a kind of private army, keeping secrets from me and from Mr Pitt alike, while pursuing an agenda of his own. You, sir, were a part of that agenda. And for whatever reason, when it came to this particular timepiece, the master chose to involve you, rather than a more experienced regulator. Now, however lax he may have been in the disposition of his books and papers, when it came to matters of horology and spycraft, the master was meticulous, as I think you will agree. Thus I conclude that it was not by chance or circumstance that he dispatched you to procure this timepiece. Nor, though the Massacre of the Cats may have been an accident, as you say, was your presence there accidental.’