The Counterfeit Crank (18 page)

‘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.