The Counterfeit Crank

Chapter Nine

Lawrence Firethorn was in a vile mood that morning. Cantering into the yard of the Queen’s Head, he brought his horse to a halt and glowered at everyone within range. When he dismounted, he tossed the rein to an ostler and barked an order. It was not the choicest moment for Michael Grammaticus to approach him.

‘Good morrow, Master Firethorn,’ he said.

‘What do you want, sir?’

‘Is there any news of the play?’

Firethorn was brusque. ‘Nick has taken it to the scrivener and he is still copying it out. Forgive me, Michael, but I’ve far more important things to worry about than The Siege of Troy.’

‘But I was talking about the other play.’

‘What other play?’

‘A Way to Content All Women. Has Edmund not spoken to you about it?’

‘Oh, that,’ said Firethorn, irritably. ‘You believe that you can write a comedy.’

‘Only with your consent.’

‘Talk to Nick Bracewell. He knows my mind on this.’

‘Edmund is agreeable,’ said Grammaticus. ‘We spoke about it yesterday.’

‘Then why bother me? The only comment I can make on the play is that its title should be changed. Any man who believes that there’s a way to content all women,’ he said with rancour, ‘has never met my wife. Are you married, Michael?’

‘Only to my work.’

‘Then I envy you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I have learnt a grisly truth,’ he confided. ‘Women are never content. Give them what they want and they’ll put a new demand upon you. Grant them that and they’ll still not find contentment. Ignore their pretty faces and supple bodies. Eschew their blandishments. Women are no more than a breed of shrews and harpies.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I know it to be true.’

And on that sour note, Firethorn turned on his heel and strode out of the yard, leaving Grammaticus in his wake. No rehearsal had been called for that morning but a meeting of the sharers had been summoned. Only two of them were there when Firethorn stormed into the room that had been hired for the occasion. It gave him another excuse to lose his temper.

‘Saints and serpents!’ he howled. ‘Where is everybody?’

‘The others will soon be here, Lawrence,’ said Elias.

‘This is more than I can bear. I’ve lost our author, our book holder, our takings from The Maid of the Mill, and now I’ve lost most of the sharers. This is a conspiracy against me.’

‘Be patient a while.’

‘Patient!’ cried Firethorn. ‘Do not talk to me of patience, Owen. I’ve been far too patient with this company and look what happens. Everyone lets me down.’

‘What’s put you in this angry mood?’

‘I spy a woman’s hand here,’ said Gill, mischievously. ‘Or rather, the absence of it. Margery has not milked his epididymis this morning so Lawrence is full of bile.’

Firethorn glared at him. ‘Be quiet, you prancing pestilence!’

‘A rift in the marital lute?’ teased Gill.

‘Taunt me any more and I’ll make a rift in your lute.’

‘Calm down, Lawrence,’ said Elias. ‘We meet here as fellows.’

‘Then show me some fellowship. Nobody else in this company will do it.’

‘This is foolish talk. You know that we all love and respect you.’

Gill tossed his head. ‘Do not include me in that, Owen.’

‘You see?’ said Firethorn, pointing at him. ‘I’m surrounded by enemies.’

‘How can one man surround you?’ said Elias. ‘This is the raving of a madman. Now, sit beside us and wait until the others come. A cup of Canary will improve your disposition.’ He patted the chair beside him. ‘Come now, Lawrence. Join us.’

Firethorn consented to sit down and sip from the cup of Canary wine that stood before him. He was sullen and distracted. Not wishing to provoke another outburst, the others said nothing. After a short while, James Ingram came into the room and greeted everyone with a pleasant smile.

‘Forgive this lateness,’ he said, lowering himself onto the settle beside Gill. ‘My horse cast a shoe and I had to take it to be shod.’

Firethorn glared at him. ‘Does the shoeing of a horse take precedence over the affairs of Westfield’s Men?’

‘No, Lawrence.’

‘Then why were you not here on time?’

‘We might ask the same of you, Lawrence,’ said Gill with an impish grin. ‘Owen and I had a long wait before you deigned to appear.’

‘The meeting should start the moment that I walk through the door.’

‘Then you’ll have to walk through it again when the others arrive for we cannot begin without them.’ Gill turned to Ingram. ‘Take care, James,’ he warned. ‘Lawrence is like a wounded bull this morning. He’ll charge you as soon as look at you.’

‘Hold your noise, Barnaby!’ snapped Firethorn.

‘Hark! The beast is snorting again. He’ll stamp his foot next.’

‘Bait me any more and I’ll stamp it on your overgrown testicles.’

‘Peace!’ chided Elias. ‘If you are in this humour, Lawrence, there is no point in having any discussion this morning. Why do we not disband and return when you are in a more amenable mood?’

‘That might take years,’ said Gill.

‘Stop goading him, Barnaby.’

‘I merely speak the truth.’

‘I’m surprised that vicious tongue of yours still knows how to do that,’ remarked Firethorn, sharply. ‘It’s told so many wicked lies that it’s in danger of dropping out. The day that Barnaby Gill turns honest man, the streets will sprout corn and the Thames will run with ale. You are nothing but a viper.’

‘Then best beware my sting.’

‘Enough of this!’ protested Elias.

‘Yes,’ said Ingram, forcefully. ‘There’s no sport for us in watching you two at each other’s throats. I thought we were met to talk about the future of the company, not to see a cock fight. Take off your spurs, I pray.’

‘Well said, James.’

Firethorn and Gill stared across the table at each other but said nothing. The other sharers began to drift in until the full complement was assembled. The actor-manager rapped his knuckles on the table to gain everyone’s attention. Before he could start the meeting, however, the door was flung open and a white-faced Hugh Wegges was standing before them. He pointed at Firethorn.

‘There you are,’ he said, ‘I need to speak with you.’

Firethorn was curt. ‘This is not the time, man. Be off with you!’

‘But you’ll want to hear what I say.’

‘If it’s to ask for your wages in advance again, then you waste your time. I spurn your request. How dare you interrupt us! Now, take that ugly visage out of my sight.’

‘We’ve been robbed!’ cried Wegges.

‘What are you jabbering about?’

‘I came to set out the costumes for Love and Fortune, that we play tomorrow, and half of them are not there. The finest costumes from our stock have gone. If you do not believe me, come and see for yourself.’

‘I’ll do just that,’ said Firethorn, hauling himself up. ‘If this be a jest, Hugh, I’ll paint you yellow and hang you from the highest tree in England.’

‘It’s no jest, alas. I wish that it were.’

Wegges led the way with Firethorn at his heels. Elias and Gill were also in attendance. The tireman kept their costumes under lock and key in a room adjacent to the chamber that was used as their tiring-house. When they got there, Wegges threw open the door to reveal the evidence of the crime.

‘See, sirs,’ he said, ‘what terrible losses we have suffered.’

The newcomers were dumbfounded. Several of their costumes had disappeared and those that were left behind were scattered all over the floor. It was obvious from a glance that the only richest garments had been stolen. Gill let out a cry.

‘They’ve taken my doublet from The Merchant of Calais,’ he gasped.

‘And my cloak from Black Antonio,’ complained Elias.

‘What of my gown from The Insatiate Duke?’ said Firethorn. ‘It was a present from our patron and cost all of twenty pounds. A pox on these villains!’ he yelled. ‘They’ve taken our clothes and left us naked. Heads will roll for this.’ He looked around in despair. ‘Oh, where is Nick Bracewell when we need him most?’

Nicholas did not hesitate. Knowing that it was important to reach Ralph Olgrave before the man’s partner did, he bounded through the streets until he came to Old Jewry. He did not even have to knock. A person he took to be Olgrave was talking to one of his servants at the threshold before departing. Nicholas had a moment to size the man up. Olgrave was older and shorter than his partner, but wider in the shoulders. Where Beechcroft had been gaunt, Olgrave was fleshy; where the one chose flamboyant apparel, the other had more sober taste. After giving instructions to his servant, Olgrave set off. Nicholas moved in to intercept him.

‘Master Olgrave?’ he enquired.

‘Yes,’ replied the other with smile. ‘Who might you be, sir?’

‘My name is Nicholas Bracewell and I crave a word with you.’

‘Do you wish to employ me in some way?’

‘Only to provide me with some information, Master Olgrave.’

‘Concerning what?’

‘Bridewell.’

‘Ah,’ said Olgrave with a chuckle. ‘Master Bracewell asks about Bridewell, does he? Visit me there, if you wish, sir,’ he went on, blithely. ‘I do not like to be interrogated on my doorstep.’

‘Does that mean you have something to hide?’ probed Nicholas.

‘Which of us does not, my friend? There’s not a man alive who does not have something in his past he wishes to stay buried. Or if there is, he’s lived a very dull life.’ He appraised Nicholas shrewdly. ‘I take you for someone who’s seen excitement in his time. That means you’ll have your share of dark secrets to conceal.’

‘Nothing that I’d feel ashamed about, Master Olgrave.’

‘Nor me. I’ve never had a twinge of guilt in my life.’

‘Let me come back to Bridewell.’

‘No, my friend,’ said Olgrave, smoothly. ‘Let me come back to Bridewell. Seek me there if you have any business with me. You’ll find me there most days.’

‘And some nights, too.’

‘I have an apartment there, true. It’s one of my privileges.’

‘What do you do to earn those privileges, Master Olgrave?’

‘I run the workhouse honestly and capably with my partner.’

‘Yes,’ said Nicholas, ‘I’ve spoken with Master Beechcroft.’

‘Oh? To what end, may I ask?’

‘I’ve been commissioned by a lawyer to track down a man who has come into an unexpected inheritance. He’s much in need of it, too, for the last I heard of him, he was sent to Bridewell as a punishment.’

‘We provide work as well as correction. Who is this man you seek?’

‘His name Hywel Rees.’

‘No,’ said Olgrave without a flicker. ‘I do not recall the fellow.’

‘Master Beechcroft knew him instantly.’

‘Then why do you come to me? If Joseph recognises the name, speak to him. Had I met him, I think I’d remember someone called Hywel Rees, but I do not.’

‘What of Dorothea Tate?’

‘What of her?’ replied Olgrave, easily. ‘The name is new to me.’

‘She was a friend of Hywel Rees, and also sent to Bridewell.’

‘You seem to know more about our inmates than I do, Master Bracewell. Do you have any more names to scatter before me or may I continue on my way?’

Nicholas paused. Ralph Olgrave had more self-possession than his partner. Unlike Joseph Beechcroft, his expression did not betray his thoughts. The same complacent smile had played around Olgrave’s lips from the start. Nicholas could not remove it.

‘How often are your inmates discharged?’ he said.

‘As often or as seldom as we wish.’

‘I learn that Hywel Rees was thrust out after only a short time in Bridewell.’

‘You’ve learnt more than me,’ said Olgrave. ‘My partner signs the discharge papers. I’ve no knowledge of this man or of his release.’

‘Dorothea Tate was let out more recently.’

‘Then she’ll have vanished back into the eternal army of beggars who besiege the capital. Bridewell does a valuable service, my friend.’

‘Does it?’

‘We try to sweep the streets clean of vagrants so that worthy citizens like you can walk them with safety.’

‘How much safety do the vagrants have once inside Bridewell?’

‘There’s only one way for you to find out.’

‘Is there?’

‘Yes,’ said Olgrave with a teasing grin. ‘Come there as our guest. All you have to do is to live on the streets and beg for your food, and we’ll be pleased to invite you to our table. We may need to whip you first but I see you have a broad back that will survive the punishment. Nicholas Bracewell, is it?’ he went on, looking him up and down. ‘Now, that’s one name I will remember. Adieu, good sir.’

Olgrave raised his hat in mock farewell, then sauntered off down the street. Nicholas watched him go. He had not been able to penetrate the man’s smugness but he was nevertheless glad of the encounter. It showed him what he was up against. Having met Joseph Beechcroft, he was more than ready to accept Dorothea’s assessment that the man was a devil, but he remembered what she had said about his partner. In her view, Ralph Olgrave was even worse. As he saw the jaunty figure moving away from him, Nicholas had no difficulty in believing it.

‘Saints preserve us!’ exclaimed Adam Crowmere. ‘How on earth did this happen?’

‘I put that same question to you,’ said Firethorn, angrily. ‘Do you not keep your doors locked at night?’

“Tis an article of faith with me. I check them myself before I retire to bed.’

‘And was the door to our wardrobe secure?’

‘Completely. I remember trying the latch.’

‘What time was that?’

‘Around midnight, as I recall.’

‘Then our thief came calling in the darkness.’

Summoned by Firethorn, the landlord gaped at the half-empty room where the costumes had been stored. Elias and Ingram had withdrawn but Hugh Wegges, as the tireman, lingered at the door. Crowmere ran a worried hand across his brow.

‘This is a tragedy, Lawrence,’ he said. ‘What must you think of me?’

‘That depends on whether or not you were at fault.’

‘I wish that I were, then we’d have an answer to this riddle. Only two keys will open that door. I have one of them and the other is kept by your tireman here.’

‘It never leaves my belt,’ said Wegges.

‘Then my key must have done the damage,’ admitted Crowmere, ‘unless this is the work of some cunning picklock. But how would he know what was in the room? He would hardly worm his way in there at random.’

Firethorn was rumbling with suppressed fury. ‘This crime was planned,’ he said. ‘The thief knew where to come and what to steal. Our costumes are our livelihood, Adam. Take those away and we are plain men, shorn of any authority.’

‘Some are left, Lawrence. There’s comfort in that.’

‘Only if I wish to lower myself to play the part of a beggar, a headsman or a common soldier. Look here,’ he said, picking up a leather apron. ‘This is worn by a blacksmith in Cupid’s Folly. Will I be reduced to wearing that? How can I play a king or an emperor or a cardinal in a leather apron? I’d be a laughing stock. My father was a blacksmith, Adam,’ he explained, tossing the apron aside, ‘and I worked hard to escape the forge. I swear, I’ll not go back to it.’

‘Can you put an exact price on the loss?’ asked Crowmere.

‘Some items were gifted to us,’ said Wegges. ‘We did not have to buy them.’

‘What of those you did have to purchase?

‘Fifty pounds would come nowhere near covering the cost.’

The landlord gulped. ‘I can see why it cuts so deep. Well, let me offer some balm at least for your wound. Fifty pounds is too much for me to spare but I’ll insist you take five at least by way of consolation.’

‘The only consolation I seek is to find the villain who did this,’ said Firethorn. ‘It must be someone who frequents the Queen’s Head and knows where our wardrobe is.’

‘He also knows where I keep my keys, Lawrence, for he may have borrowed one when my back was turned. Yes,’ he said, pensively, ‘that may be it. Some light-fingered varlet must have taken the key and had a replica made. That way, he could get into the room at will.’ His eyebrows formed a chevron. ‘Let me speak to my servants. One of them may be able to enlighten us.’

‘One of them may be the culprit,’ said Firethorn.

‘If that’s the case, I’ll tear him limb from limb.’

‘Leave his entrails to me, Adam. I’ll roast them over a fire.’

‘What am I to do now?’ asked Wegges, tamely. ‘Am I to lock the door again?’

‘When there is nothing left worth stealing? No, Hugh. Search the place for clues. Talk to all who haunt the taproom to see if they can help. We’ll get those costumes back somehow. And when we do,’ said Firethorn, ‘you’ll sleep outside this door all night.’

Henry Cleaton sat back in his chair and chewed on the stem of a pipe that had no tobacco in it. After hearing all that his visitor had to say, he removed the pipe to speak.

‘You found no more than I expected, Nicholas,’ he said.

‘Two arrant knaves, who revel in their wickedness.’

‘I doubt if they will revel in it today. You ruffled their feathers.’

‘I may have done so with Master Beechcroft,’ said Nicholas, ‘but his partner must have ice in his veins. He remained cool to the end. Had I gone there with Dorothea on my arm, Ralph Olgrave would not have turned a hair.’

‘That’s because he feels secure in his villainy, and he’s right to do so.’

‘But we have a witness.’

‘He’ll find a dozen willing witnesses, whose voices will drown out anything that Dorothea Tate has to say. Look not to her, Nicholas. Certain proof is needed.’

‘We know that a feast was held in Bridewell, and that visitors were entertained by prostitutes imprisoned there. Is that not in defiance of the contract they have to run the institution?’

‘Yes,’ agreed Cleaton.

‘Could they not be arraigned for keeping a disorderly house?’

‘Possibly.’

‘You do not sound convinced, Master Cleaton.’

‘I’m a lawyer and the only thing that convinces me is the weight of evidence. Yet what is your evidence here?’ he asked. ‘The word of a frightened girl with a grudge against Bridewell. Yes,’ he continued before Nicholas could object, ‘I accept that she has good reason to bear a grudge but put yourself in the position of the other women in the case. Dorothea refused to join in the merriment but my guess is that those harlots were only too ready to eat, drink and oblige the gentlemen. They are locked in a workhouse, remember. What would they prefer to do, Nicholas? Make ticking for feather beds or do the work that they know best by lying on those feather beds?’

Nicholas was forced to agree. When he called at the lawyer’s office to report on his conversations with the two men, he hoped that Cleaton would feel that definite progress had been made. All that Nicholas had actually done, however, was to satisfy himself that Dorothea’s descriptions of Beechcroft and Olgrave were accurate ones. It was one thing to jolt the former by asking if Hywel Rees might have swum back to Wales, but finding hard evidence that he was involved in the murder was quite another. Nicholas was frustrated. Slapping his thighs, he rose from his chair

‘They are corrupt men,’ he argued. ‘Others who used Bridewell for their own purposes were either dismissed or imprisoned. Can it not be so for them?’

‘Only if they are found out,’ said Cleaton. ‘In the past, wayward treasurers were caught when the account books were inspected. Beechcroft and Olgrave are too clever to be snared that way. Their accounts will be above reproach.’

‘Is there no way to get into Bridewell to verify the facts?’

‘Not without a warrant, Nicholas, and who would give us that?’

‘Dorothea has given me my warrant.’

‘I admire the sentiment, but deplore its lack of legality. Bridewell is a fortress. Inside that, Beechcroft and Olgrave are beyond our reach.’

‘Then we must lure them out.’

‘I think they’ll be more wary of Nicholas Bracewell in the future,’ said Cleaton. ‘Especially since you used the same trick as my clerk to extract information. The two men will have realised by now that you played false with them.’

‘To good purpose.’

‘Granted. But it will mean they’ll not be fooled again.’

‘Then I’ll have to work another way.’

‘If only I knew how, Nicholas. The problem with being a lawyer is that I am shackled by the law. I can only envisage legal ways of achieving my ends.’

‘Was it legal to ask your clerk to obtain addresses the way that he did?’

‘More or less,’ said Cleaton, happily. ‘We did not break the law so much as bend it slightly. In a sense, my clerk spoke the truth. Joseph Beechcroft and Ralph Olgrave were mentioned in a will. It was the unwritten testament of Hywel Rees, who bequeathed the pair of them his hatred.’

‘Then I’m the executor who must enforce the terms of that will.’

‘How do you propose to do that?’

‘By taking advice from Master Olgrave.’

‘What kind of advice?’

‘I’ll explain that in a moment,’ said Nicholas. ‘First, I must ask a favour of you.’

‘Is it within the bounds of the law?’

‘It could not be more so, Master Cleaton. It will appeal to a legal mind.’

Michael Grammaticus read the play with growing excitement. He was seated at the table in Hoode’s lodging so that he could turn over the sheets of parchment more easily. The author of A Way to Content All Women sat opposite him, observing his reactions and disappointed that no laughter came from his visitor. Grammaticus came to the last page and read it through with the same grim concentration.

‘Oh!’ he sighed, looking up. ‘It has come to a premature end.’

‘Did you like the play, Michael?’

‘I loved every word of it. You have written a small masterpiece.’

‘There was not even a hint of a smile in your face.’

‘Inwardly, I promise you, I was all mirth. The wit and humour flow so smoothly from your pen, Edmund. There is no sense of effort.’

‘There was when I tried to read the play myself,’ said Hoode. ‘I got up early and forced myself to do it, but I dozed off before the end of the first act.’

‘No spectator would ever do so. Every speech has a sparkle to it.’ Grammaticus shook his head. ‘I’m not sure that I can emulate that.’

‘I’ve told you Nick’s suggestion. Write two more scenes to complete Act Four, then we can judge how well you disguise yourself as Edmund Hoode.’

‘The next scene, as I take it, shows Vernon’s proposal to Maria?’

‘I think that’s what I intended.’

‘Then the act must surely end with the discovery of Will Lucifer in Rosalind’s bedchamber on the eve of her marriage to Timothy Gull.’ He tapped the parchment. ‘That’s the logical development of the comedy because it brings yet another round of misunderstandings. Is it not so, Edmund?’

Hoode scratched his head. ‘As far as I can recall.’

‘Think more upon it, if you will,’ said Grammaticus. ‘I’ll need all the help that you can give me. I’ll be an apt pupil, be assured of that.’ There was a knock on the front door. ‘You have another visitor, I think. I’ll leave you alone with him while I go to the market to buy you some more fruit. Doctor Zander insists that you eat it.’

‘You are too kind to me, Michael.’

‘I could never repay what you’ve done for me.’

He got up from the table and looked down covetously at the play again. Knuckles tapped softly on the door then Nicholas Bracewell came into the room. He exchanged warm greetings with the two playwrights. Grammaticus then excused himself and went on his way. Nicholas ran a careful eye over Hoode.

‘You look better than you have for weeks,’ he said.

‘I feel that the worst is over, Nick,’

‘That’s good to hear. We may not need Michael’s help with your new comedy, after all. You’ll soon be able to finish it yourself.’

‘Oh, I doubt that,’ said Hoode. ‘My mind is like a morass. When Michael talked just now of the characters in A Way to Content All Women, I could barely recall who they were. It was almost as if the play were not mine.’

‘It is, Edmund, and will always remain so.’

‘Michael has agreed to write the two scenes, as you advised. But he insists on doing so at his lodging, even though I’ll not let the play out of my sight. He says that he can only work at his own desk.’

‘You need to be at his elbow, to guide his pen in the right direction.’

‘That’s what I’d hoped to do,’ said Hoode. ‘I even offered to take the play to his lodging, if someone could be found to carry me there, but he’d not hear of it.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Michael is a very private person. His imagination only flowers when he’s alone.’

‘Where does he lodge?’

‘Somewhere in Cornhill, I believe.’

‘Not far away from here, then,’ said Nicholas. ‘We could easily transport you there with the play in your hand.’ A memory nudged him. ‘When I offered to go with Michael to fetch his copy of The Siege of Troy, he refused to let me go with him. Now, he keeps you away from his lodging. Is he ashamed of where he lives?’

‘That can hardly be so. There must be another reason.’

‘A mistress with whom he lives?’

Hoode laughed. ‘I think that we can absolve him of that sin, Nick.’

‘He’s shown great care for you, Edmund, and that earns him my admiration. He never fails to call. Who else has been here this morning?’ asked Nicholas. ‘I daresay that Owen was the first. What of Lawrence?’

‘He came and went in a towering rage, Nick. Your name was taken in vain.’

‘Was it?’

‘Lawrence said that you should have been there when the discovery was made.’

‘What discovery?’

‘Our wardrobe has been raided and our finest costumes stolen.’

Nicholas was shocked. ‘But they are locked securely in a room.’

‘Nevertheless, they’ve gone. It seems that Hugh Wegges found the place in disarray this morning. He was upset, the landlord was distraught and Lawrence is in a fury. Keep clear of him,’ said Hoode. ‘He blames you for being absent.’

A long day had done nothing to still her fears or to extinguish her hopes. Dorothea Tate asked time and again if she could visit the morgue. It was the only way to make sure that the dead body fished out of the Thames did belong to Hywel Rees. Though she sensed that her friend had been murdered, she could not let go of the vain hope that he was still alive. Anne Hendrik tried to reason with the girl.

‘What can be gained, Dorothea?’ she said. ‘Go to the morgue and you only inflict needless pain upon yourself.’

‘I’m in agony, as it is.’

‘Try to get some rest.’

‘How can I do that, Anne? I lay awake all night, thinking about Hywel.’

‘Do you have fond memories of him?’

‘The fondest. He was a true friend.’

‘Then do not sully those fond memories by looking on him now. Nick and Owen Elias have strong stomachs but even they were revolted by what they saw. Hywel is not the young man you knew.’

Dorothea sagged back in her chair. Without help, she knew that she would never be admitted to view a dead body. Nicholas would have to take her and he was as keen as Anne to keep her away from the horrid sight. There was nothing that the girl could do. It was a paradox. In the most comfortable house she had ever stayed in, she felt somehow constrained. While she was enjoying the kindness of friends, she was beginning to view them as enemies who stopped her from doing the one thing of importance to her.

Anne had made such efforts to distract her, taking her into the workshop next door so that she could watch hats being made, visiting the market with her, dining with her, listening to her, watching over her. The only time that Dorothea could be alone was if she went to her room and there she was assailed by worries about Hywel. A sense of guilt developed. Why should she have such comforts when the young Welshman might be lying on a slab? For the first time in her life, Dorothea wore clean clothing and ate as much food as she wished. Yet the very fact that she was protected and cared for made her uneasy. She did not belong.

The return of Nicholas made her rise expectantly from the chair. Anne, too, got up to greet him, glad that he had come back so early in the evening and seeing from his face that he had news to impart.

‘Where have you been?’ she wondered.

‘To several places,’ he replied. ‘I began at the lawyer’s office and ended up at the Queen’s Head, where Lawrence had to be pacified. He was incensed because the company has been dealt another bitter blow.’

‘Your old landlord is returning?’

‘No, Anne. We’ve been spared that horror, though it will surely come if our run of bad luck continues. Someone raided our wardrobe and made off with the better part of it. They’ll raise a tidy sum by selling those costumes.’

‘Who would do such a thing?’

‘Rivals. Someone who had a grudge against us. Or simply a thief in search of making a profit. Lawrence is maddened. It took me an hour to calm him down.’

‘What of the lawyer?’ asked Dorothea, impatiently. ‘You said before you left that he might be able to help us.’

‘He did, Dorothea. Sit down again and I’ll tell you how.’ She and Anne resumed their seats. ‘Master Cleaton worked quickly,’ said Nicholas, remaining on his feet. ‘He found out where Joseph Beechcroft and Ralph Olgrave lived.’

‘They have chambers at Bridewell.’

‘Yes, but they also have homes and families.’

Dorothea goggled. ‘Master Olgrave has a family? A wife and children?’

‘Judging by the size of his house, I think it very likely.’

‘Then how could he do what he did to me?’ she said in bewilderment. ‘That was not the action of a married man. What of his vows to his wife?’

‘I think that he forgets them when he chooses,’ said Nicholas, ‘and does so without compunction. He boasted to me that he never felt a twinge of guilt.’

‘You met him?’

‘I met the both of them, Dorothea. They are a well-matched pair.’

‘What did they say?’

‘The one assured me that Hywel had gone back to Wales, the other pretended that he had never heard the name. He also denied all knowledge of you.’

‘That’s shameful!’ cried Dorothea. ‘After what he did to me, that’s cruel.’

‘Cruel and disgraceful,’ said Anne, touching her hand in sympathy. ‘What did you do, Nick — confront the villains with their crimes?’

‘No,’ he replied, ‘I merely wished to take their measure. Master Beechcroft was inclined to bluster but his partner kept his feelings under control. I took him to the more dangerous of the two.’

‘Oh, he is, he is!’ said Dorothea with passion.

‘Then you must help me to bring him down.’ He turned to Anne. ‘If you will, please, fetch paper and pen. I want Dorothea to become an artist and draw as much of Bridewell as she can recall.’

‘I’ve no skill with a pen, Nicholas.’

‘But I do,’ said Anne. ‘I sit here and draw pretty hats all day.’ She headed for the door. ‘I’ll hold the pen and you can tell me where it should go on the paper.’

‘But why do you need a drawing of Bridewell, Nicholas?’

‘Because I need to understand where you were when the outrages happened.’

‘I was in the hall at first, then in Master Olgrave’s chamber.’

‘Show me where both of them are on a sketch,’ said Nicholas. ‘They are vile men, Dorothea, but they are also slippery. I’d gain nothing by accusing them to their faces. If I did so in public, they’d bring an action of slander against me.’

‘But I was there. I know what sort of men they are.’

‘And so do I, now that I have met the rogues.’

She was aggrieved. ‘Can we not have them arrested and taken to court?’

‘Not until we have more proof, Dorothea,’ he said, ‘and the one certain way of doing that is to get a lot closer to Joseph Beechcroft and Ralph Olgrave.’

Beechcroft paced up and down the room like a caged tiger. Ever since he had arrived at Bridewell, he had been in a state of agitation. Olgrave, on the other hand, was relaxed and cheerful. Reclining in a chair, he sipped a cup of wine.

‘He knows, Ralph,’ said his partner with alarm. ‘The fellow knows.’

‘How can he know? There were only two of us there.’ He grinned. ‘Well, three of us to be precise but that turbulent Welshman could not stay. The river called him.’

‘Why did he ask me if Hywel Rees had swum back to Wales?’

‘To see if he could chase the colour from your cheeks, and he succeeded. You are too easily shaken, Joseph. Learn from me to keep a straight face.’

‘When I am accused of a murder?’

‘That’s not what happened,’ said Olgrave. ‘Nicholas Bracewell was guessing. He has a little knowledge, I grant you, and tried to augment it by frightening you. Thanks to your folly, he now has more to bite upon.’

‘My heart pounded when he mentioned swimming.’

‘Only because you rely on your emotions instead of your brain. Think, Joseph. Use your head and you’ll see that we are not in imminent danger.’

‘I believe we are,’ said Beechcroft, stopping beside him. ‘Nicholas Bracewell is on our trail, Ralph. He used that ruse to get into my house then suddenly produced two names out of the air that I hoped never to hear again.’

‘And how do you suppose he did that?’

‘He must have been acquainted with the pair of them.’

‘Yes,’ said Olgrave, ‘but they were both out of his reach inside Bridewell. How could he know that Hywel Rees had been killed and tossed into the Thames?’ Tapping his head with a finger, he stood up. ‘Think, man. Do as I bid you. Use your brain.’

Beechcroft shrugged. ‘It must have been a wild guess.’

‘I fancy not. There is another explanation.’

‘I do not see it, Ralph.’

‘But it stands right before you, man. The only way that Nicholas Bracewell could be aware of the Welshman’s death, was if the body had been washed up out of the river. In short, he was clever enough to go to the morgue in order to check.’

‘And was the body found?’

‘I suspect that it might have been. When I’ve calmed you down, I mean to visit the morgue myself in order to be certain. Yes,’ he added, draining his wine, ‘and I shall ask the coroner who else has shown an interest in Hywel Rees. I believe that I know the name he’ll give me.’

‘Nicholas Bracewell,’ said Beechcroft, curling his lip. ‘Who is the fellow?’

‘We’ll find out somehow, Joseph, and he will lead us to her.’

‘Who?’

‘Dorothea Tate. He must be working in league with that little scorpion.’

‘We were wrong to discharge her.’

‘We could hardly keep her here to rant and rave. Besides,’ said Olgrave with a cackle, ‘I’d had my sport with her. When we turned her out, I thought she’d end up in the stews of Bankside. Dorothea would make a lively trull now that I’ve introduced her to the trade. She fought like a terrier,’ he recalled. ‘I still have the scratches down my back. Until they heal, I’ll not dare to lie with my wife.’ He cackled again. ‘I only lie to her.’

Beechcroft was on the move again. ‘And you believe that she and that man are confederates? That disturbs me, Ralph. They could bring us down.’

‘Not if we keep our nerve.’

‘I lost mine for a second when he called at my house.’

‘He’ll not come again, I warrant you. And he can hardly reach us here,’ Olgrave reminded him. ‘Bridewell is our kingdom. No power in the land can threaten us.’

‘Dorothea Tate might do so, if she has enough help.’

‘Then we’ll have to make sure she does not get it. Nicholas Bracewell paid a visit to our houses. When we find out where he lives, we’ll do the same to him. My guess is that the girl will be staying there as well. Relax, Joseph,’ he said, confidently. ‘We’ll do what we should have done before.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Hit two marks with the same shot.’ His eyes shone. ‘We’ll kill the pair of them.’