Deception (4 page)

One of the undertaker's men had started to remove the blindfold from the dead man. The under-taker's man uttered an oath of surprise as the cloth came away to reveal two silver coins, one placed over each eye. “Look at these!” he said to the other labourer, picking them up and peering at them closely. “I've never seen coins like this.”

“Nor I,” said his friend, “but they've got Her Majesty's head on them, right enough.”

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest—the mystery was deepening. I knew I had to get a look at those coins. “Let me see,” I said quickly.

The men didn't move.

“Those coins have been bound to a dead man's eyes,” said the man holding the coins. “Have you no fear of his spirit, my lady?”

“Indeed not,” I replied firmly. “What can a dead man do? It is the one who has done this foul deed that we should fear.”

There was a gasp at my bold words, but still the man did not hand the coins to me.

I drew myself up and looked him square in the eye. “Enough of this shilly-shallying!” I said. “Give me the coins.” “Shilly-shallying” is one of Her Majesty's favourite expressions and I was trying to sound like her as I said it.

The labourer who had the coins held them out sheepishly on his palm.

I took them from him, and as I examined them, my stomach lurched in surprise. They had the Queen's head on one side and the griffin rampant on the other—exactly the design that the Queen had finally chosen for her new coin. But it was impossible! I had seen drawings of them at the palace, but none had been minted yet.

I realized that everyone was watching me. “The Queen will need to see these,” I said in my most
imperious voice, just in case someone tried to argue. “I will take them to her directly.”

The undertaker's labourers shrugged and lifted Will Stubbs's body onto their sled.

“We better take him to the coroner in Southwark,” said one.

“We're near the south bank, I grant you,” grunted the other, “but the City's just yonder. Old Dr. Folgate keeps a good fire. We could warm ourselves there for a bit.”

“Don't be a noddlehead!” the first one answered. “He's got to go to the coroner in charge of where he's been found.”

“Don't you call me a noddlehead!” said his friend. “There isn't a coroner for the river, unless it be old Father Thames, and we don't know where he keeps court!”

As they argued, I suddenly had an idea. “Pray bear him to Dr. Cavendish at Whitehall Palace,” I instructed them. “He is the Queen's Coroner, and the nearest.” I didn't tell the men that he is also my uncle and that if there was foul play afoot regarding the Queen's new coin, then Her Majesty might want me, her secret Lady Pursuivant, to investigate.

With the coins safely in the pocket of my kirtle, I
hurried to catch up with the Royal Party. I could not wait for the chance to tell Her Majesty what I had found out.

But it was impossible to get past the wretched Sir Edward—a plague on him! Her Majesty glowered at me every time I tried to interrupt his flatteries and speak with her.

Now we are back at Whitehall and I have written pages and pages in my daybooke—but still I have not spoken to Her Majesty. I think I am going to burst!

At last I have been able to tell the Queen about the coins. And in doing so, I have uncovered yet more of this mystery!

When word went out that the Queen had left her Presence Chamber, I hurried over to the busy Great Hall, with the coins in my pocket, and jostled my way towards her through the crowd.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty …,” I said, and curtsied so hurriedly that she nearly fell over me. “I am in haste as I need to speak to you in private, and most urgently.”

“Not now, Grace,” answered the Queen, with a sigh. “Unfortunately, I have many papers still to sign and Secretary Cecil is most anxious for me to attend to them.”

I knew I had to make her understand how important this was, but I had to speak in code for fear of anyone's overhearing. “If it please Your Majesty, two of your new silver griffins have escaped.”

The Queen looked at me. Her expression did not change but I could see from her eyes that she understood. She shooed everyone away, then led me to her private Withdrawing Chamber and closed the door.

“Well?” she asked curiously. “What is this about my new coins, Grace?”

I took the two coins from my pocket and held them out. “You will recall the corpse found in the boat at the Frost Fair, Your Majesty,” I said. “These were bound to the poor man's eyes with a blindfold. I believe they are two of your new coins.”

The Queen stared at the coins as if she could not believe her eyes. Then, without a word, she took a key from a chain round her neck, strode over to her desk, and opened a small golden casket that lay there. Six shining silver coins lay within.

She scooped them up. “How can this be?” she murmured, putting the six coins down on the desk
and taking up the two from my hand. “Mine are the only six to have been released from the Royal Mint. All the other newly minted coins are locked up at the Tower. Not one is supposed to be in circulation, and yet here are two, looking like my six in every way.”

She tossed the coins onto the desk with the others, then began pacing about the room in thought.

I stared at the small pile of coins and suddenly noticed something. The six belonging to the Queen were shiny, as if they had been polished. But the remaining two were slightly different.

“Begging Your Majesty's pardon!” I exclaimed excitedly.

The Queen stopped and looked at me enquiringly.

“I believe that the two coins I brought to you are not exact copies of yours,” I explained.

I held up one of the Queen's coins against the two others. “These two new ones are duller—I think they cannot be pure silver.”

Her Majesty looked closely at them. “They must be counterfeit!” she whispered. “This is even more serious!” Her shoulders slumped. She looked tired and careworn. “Ah, Grace!” she said. “I have worked ceaselessly to give our noble coinage back its true worth and now I fear it will come to nothing!” Then her eyes flashed and she lifted her head and became
once again my bright, fiery Queen. “This shall not be made public, else the world will lose faith in our currency. The counterfeiters must be brought to justice—and swiftly. But who can they be?”

“Let me investigate,” I urged, “if it pleases Your Majesty.”

The Queen smiled at me. “My own Lady Pursuivant! It is a good idea, for nobody would suspect a Maid of Honour of investigating such a matter, and I do not wish the miscreant to know we have discovered the forgeries, for he might cover his tracks and we should never find the villain out. But you must make haste, Grace, for I have decreed that my new coins will be in circulation in less than a fortnight. You may have five days, but then I must hand the matter over to Sir Thomas Gresham for an official investigation. And mark, Grace, you must move secretly.”

“I have already had the corpse taken to my Uncle Cavendish,” I told her. “I will learn more from him about the manner of death when I see him tomorrow—and the information will go no further.”

“I commend you for your quick thinking, Grace,” said the Queen.

This was great praise from Her Majesty and I still feel a tingle of pride when I write of it.

The Queen studied the coins again. “Although this matter must be kept in the utmost secrecy, I would have Sir Thomas look at these to confirm that they are indeed counterfeit. I trust him implicitly.”

Sir Thomas Gresham was summoned and arrived swiftly. He did not even deign to notice my presence.

Her Majesty handed him the two coins and told him how they'd been found. I saw his face grow pale as he examined the coins and compared them with the ones from the casket.

Then he gave me a haughty look. “I would rather not speak in front of a Maid of Honour, my liege,” he said. “She is very young and likely to have a prattling tongue.”

I bristled at this, but the Queen leaped to my defence. “It was Lady Grace Cavendish who brought this matter to our attention,” she said coldly. “We trust her discretion absolutely and know her to be a true subject. We hope we may know the same of you!”

Sir Thomas fell to his knees. “Indeed, Your Majesty. I am ever your faithful servant.”

“Then get up, man, and look to these coins!” snapped the Queen.

Sir Thomas struggled to his feet. “I regret, my
liege, that these two coins are indeed forgeries,” he told her, and I could hear the fear in his voice as he confirmed the bad news. “They are excellently made and it is only the slight variance in colour that gives them away, but they are counterfeits nonetheless.” He turned the false coins over in his hand. “I have seen counterfeit coins before where the villains used wax to make a mould of the originals. The results were very poor copies,” he told us. “But the designs on these are so accurate and clear that I am sure they have been struck like genuine coins from the original engraving. Such work would have required expert moneyers, using proper trussels and piles. But where could they have got the dies from?”

My head reeled. For all I understood he could have been talking in a foreign tongue.

“It seems to me,” Sir Thomas went on, “that another mint must have been set up in order to make these counterfeit coins. Let me hunt down the miscreants without delay, Your Majesty. We have worked too hard to restore your currency to let this happen.”

“You will do nothing,” barked the Queen, “if you wish to keep your head upon your shoulders! I have ordered my own investigation. And I would have you
tell no one of this matter. I do not wish the villains to know that we have discovered their felony lest they should instantly take steps to hide the evidence. Besides, since the fakes are so well made, I fear that someone close to the mint must be involved.”

“But should I not tell Sir Edward, Your Majesty?” asked Sir Thomas. “As Mint Warden—”

“Not even he,” ordered the Queen. “There have been delays enough and I do not wish him to be further distracted from his work. If the villains have not been discovered in five days, then I may call you to investigate, but until then, not a word.”

Sir Thomas bowed. “As Your Majesty commands,” he said reluctantly.

As soon as Sir Thomas and I were dismissed, I fetched my daybooke and hastened to the Long Gallery to write everything down. I realize that I have very little idea about how a coin is made and I must find out more about minting. If I am to find this illegal mint I ought to know what I am searching for.

And I need to see Ellie and Masou. I have less than a week to solve this crime and I need the help of my friends, for they have been true accomplices to me in the past—and they love a mystery!

Lady Sarah and Mary Shelton are already asleep so I shall not be disturbed, except by their snoring. But my candle is flickering and has not much life left in it and I have no other in my chamber. I must be brief.

I was about to leave the Long Gallery to find Ellie and Masou when the shout went up for a game of Maw.

“You like this one, Grace,” called Mary, rattling the pot that already had some players' bets in. “Come and join us. I'll deal you a hand of cards.”

She was right—I love trying to win as many tricks as possible and claiming the contents of the pot, but today I had to think of an excuse. “I'm sorry but I can't. I must … er … have some laundry attended to.”

“Can you not leave it until tomorrow?” asked Carmina.

“It is an ink blot on a sleeve,” I said. “And Mrs. Champernowne will be chiding me till Christmas if she sees it.”

“You would not get ink blots on you at all if you didn't waste so much time scribbling in that silly book!” Lady Jane said with a superior air.

I wished I could have scribbled all over her silly face.

I picked up my daybooke and penner before I was too tempted and stalked off to find Ellie.

Sometimes I wish Whitehall were not so large and sprawling, with so many rooms and separate buildings. It is a great journey to reach the laundry where Ellie works.

I could just make out Ellie through the hot, steamy air of the laundry, up to her skinny elbows in soapy water. Poor Ellie. I wish she didn't have to work so hard. She is small and thin and I wonder she can lift the heavy sheets from the copper.