The King's Evil

The weight of responsibility which at first threatened to crush Geoffrey Anger instead brought out unseen strengths in the clerk. Once he had grown accustomed to the death of his employer, he realised how much freedom it suddenly gave him. After years of tyranny by Solomon Creech, he was now temporarily in charge of the office, winding up its business before closing the premises and searching for another lawyer. Papers which had hitherto been hidden from him now lay at his disposal. Clients whom Creech had jealously kept to himself were available for his inspection. Going through the contents of the safe was an education to Geoffrey Anger. The sense of power helped him to grow in confidence. He was still very shocked that Solomon Creech had been murdered but, he now saw, it was not an undiluted tragedy.

When Christopher called at the office next day, his appearance had markedly improved. Jacob had bathed his face and shaved him with such care that he felt no pain. The bruising had largely disappeared. Even the colouring around his eye had paled to a faint tint. He was both surprised and pleased to find the timid clerk in a co-operative mood. After giving him a brisk welcome, Anger escorted him through to the inner office and offered him a chair. The clerk then settled into the seat which had been sculpted over the years by the buttocks of Solomon Creech.

'I have been expecting you to call, Mr Redmayne.'

'Good.'

'This is what you have come for, I think.'

'What is it?'

'The verdict of the coroner's jury on the death of Mr Creech.'

'It is certainly something which I would like to see, Mr Anger.'

'Feel free to peruse it, sir.'

The clerk handed over the document which had been lying on the desk. It did not take Christopher long to read it. The report bore a close resemblance to the one issued after the post mortem was carried out on the body of Sir Ambrose Northcott. It recorded an unsolved crime.

'The verdict of this jury is that a certain person or persons unknown did feloniously, wilfully and with malice aforethought, batter Mr Solomon Creech and throw him into the River Thames to drown. In the opinion of the jury, Mr Creech would not have survived the brutal injuries which were inflicted upon him by the aforesaid person or persons but the actual cause of death was drowning.'

After glancing through the rest of the judgement, Christopher put the document back down on the desk and looked into the solemn face before him. He wondered just how helpful the man was prepared to be. Geoffrey Anger's occupation of his employer's office had already yielded reforms. Christopher noticed that it was substantially tidier than before and that fresh air had been allowed to disperse the worst of its smell.

'You have been busy in here, Mr Anger,' he commented.

'It has been hard but rewarding work, sir.'

'I hope to profit from it myself. Flave you learned anything about the business affairs of Sir Ambrose Northcott?'

'A great deal, Mr Redmayne,' said the clerk, patting the safe to his left. 'Most of the documents locked away in here related to those affairs.'

'I would value a sighting of them.'

'That is asking too much, sir, but I did anticipate your interest and am desirous of being helpful. To that end, I have made a record of certain transactions in which Sir Ambrose engaged.'

'Do they relate to France?'

'Almost exclusively.'

'Do they involve contraband?'

'You cannot expect me to impugn Mr Creech's reputation.'

'Would you rather that his murder went unsolved?'

The clerk hesitated. 'Some of the transactions stray outside the strict limits of the law but that is all I am prepared to say.' He opened a drawer to take out a document. 'Here it is, Mr Redmayne. I hope that it will assist you in some small way in bringing the killer to justice.'

Christopher took the paper from him and ran his eye over it. The neat calligraphy of Geoffrey Anger uncovered a whole history of trading between Sir Ambrose Northcott and certain French merchants. Among them was the name of one Jean-Paul Charentin of Paris. Christopher felt a buzz of excitement. Links were slowly being forged.

'This is most obliging of you, Mr Anger,' he said.

'I have had it waiting for days.'

'My search took me across the Channel and I have only just returned.' He tapped the piece of paper. 'May I have some elucidation?'

'If you wish.'

Christopher took him line by line through the document, asking for clarification even where he did not need it. The clerk's confidence got the better of him. Thinking that he was being discreet, he instead revealed far more than he intended, enjoying a rare moment to show off his knowledge of commercial transactions. By the time they had finished, Christopher could see why Sir Ambrose and his lawyer had been so secretive. Much of their legitimate trading was no more than a mask for some profitable smuggling. The architect remembered the extensive cellars which he had designed for the new house; the ideal place in which to store contraband goods unloaded from the Marie Louise and brought to the private landing stage.

'I have one last thing to ask you, Mr Anger.'

'There is nothing more that I can tell you,' said the other, rising to indicate that the interview was over. 'You will understand how much work I have to do. Let me show you out.'

Christopher remained seated. 'In a moment,' he said. 'Answer me this first. When you opened that safe, did you find a copy of Sir Ambrose Northcott's will?'

'I did.'

'Is it still on the premises?'

'That need not concern you, Mr Redmayne.'

'Is there no chance that I might see it?'

'None at all, sir,' said the other with a sudden pomposity. 'The last will and testament of a client is the most confidential of all documents. I could not possibly divulge any of its contents.'

'I am only curious about one tiny provision.'

'Your curiosity must go unsatisfied.'

'Must it?' said Christopher with a smile, getting to his feet. 'You have given me so much help today. I am overcome with gratitude and I applaud your thoroughness. Mr Creech did not appreciate you.'

'That was my opinion, too,' confessed the other.

'You would have made a worthy partner to him.'

'Oh no, sir,' said the clerk piously. 'I could never have condoned some of the transactions which went on in this office.'

'With regard to the will...'

'It is a closed book to you, Mr Redmayne.'

Christopher nodded. 'So be it. Knowing the extent of

Sir Ambrose's interests and property, I am sure it is such a complicated document that even you could not remember all of its provisions. There is no point at all in my asking to whom the house was left.'

'Which house?'

'The one in Lincoln's Inn Fields,' said Christopher artlessly. 'Sir Ambrose would hardly leave it to his family or they would become aware of the nefarious activities which took place there. He would protect his wife from such a shocking discovery. On the other hand,' he added, watching the clerk's expression, 'he would be unlikely to bequeath the property to the lady to whom it is leased. Mrs Mandrake.'

Geoffrey Anger's lip twitched. Christopher had his answer.