The King's Evil (14 page)

Henry
Redmayne was in an irascible mood. Everything was conspiring against him that morning.
His breakfast had been late, his servants slovenly and his barber had twice
drawn blood while shaving him. Other domestic shortcomings annoyed him further.
Over-arching these minor annoyances was his intense fear for the safety of a
good friend. Henry hoped that Sir Ambrose Northcott would have written to him
by now to explain his uncharacteristic absence on the previous evening but no
word came. Apprehension deepened at the house in Bedford Street. Even a draught
of Canary wine did not relieve it.

The
manservant found his master still in his bedchamber.

'You
have a visitor, sir,' he said.

'Sir
Ambrose Northcott?' asked Henry eagerly.

'No,
sir. Your brother.'

'Does
Christopher have any news?'

'I
am to summon you at once, sir. He said that it was urgent.'

Henry
brushed him aside and darted through the door. When he hastened down the
stairs, he saw his brother waiting for him in the hall.

'What
has happened?' he demanded.

'Can
we speak in private?' said Christopher.

'Of
course. This way.'

Christopher
was shepherded into the parlour and the door was shut behind them. There was no
easy way to break the tidings to Henry. He was twitching with anxiety and would
brook no delay.

'Well,
Christopher?'

'Sir
Ambrose has been found.'

'Alive
or dead?' 'Dead, I fear.'

Henry's
body sagged. 'I knew it!'

'He
has been murdered.'

'Dear
God!'

Christopher
helped him to a chair then stood beside him to relate all the details. Henry
winced throughout. His head pounded. The cuts on his face began to smart
afresh.

'This
is dreadful!' he cried, putting his hands over his ears. 'I will hear no more.
I have lost a dear, dear friend in Sir Ambrose. This is quite insupportable. I
will never get over it.'

'You
must, Henry. I need your help.'

'Leave
me be.'

'No,'
said Christopher, gently removing his brother's hands from his ears. 'This is a
terrible crime and someone must pay for it.'

'I
am paying for it!' wailed the other. 'In pity and sorrow.'

'This
is no time to think of yourself, Henry.'

'But
this is such a blow to me.'

'Strike
back at the man who delivered it.'

'How?'

'By
helping me to track down the killer.'

'But
I have no idea who he might be, Christopher.'

'I
think you may,' said his brother, pulling a chair across to sit directly in
front of him. 'You knew Sir Ambrose well. I did not. Let us look in the obvious
place first. Did he have any enemies?'

'Several.
Enemies and rivals.'

'Anyone
in particular?'

'Not
that I can think of at the moment.'

'I
will need some names, Henry.'

'Well,
do not come to me,' said the other. 'Solomon Creech is your man. He could give
you a full list of Sir Ambrose's enemies.'

'He
refuses to do so.'

'You've
already spoken to him?'

'I
had to tell him the news.'

Henry
bridled. 'You mean, you kept me waiting while you went off to that lawyer? I am
your brother, Christopher. Your sibling. Your closest blood relation.
Damnation! You should have come to me
first!'

'Mr
Creech had to be informed. Only he can make decisions about the future of the
house.'

'What
future? That house will only have a past now.' He turned away and pouted. 'I
feel slighted, Christopher. I have been sick with worry yet you kept me in
suspense while you trotted off to Solomon Creech.'

'I
also had to make a sworn statement before the magistrate.'

'Your
brother should have been your first port of call.'

'That
is a matter of opinion.'

'You
know mine.'

'Yes,
Henry,' said Christopher, clicking his tongue, 'and I am sorry if I offended
you. It was not deliberate. The facts of the case are these. Sir Ambrose has
been murdered. Solomon Creech flew into a panic when I told him and more or
less drove me out of his office. He gave me no assistance at all. The wretch
would not even undertake to inform Sir Ambrose's family.'

'But
they must be told.'

'I
will come to them in due course. Let us return to these enemies. You say that
Sir Ambrose had several of them?'

'Of
course. He was a politician. Such men always have enemies. And he was a very
successful merchant. His rivals hated him. Look among them for the most likely
killer.'

'Where
do I start?'

'I
have told you. With his lawyer.'

'Forget
him, Henry. Answer me this. When you and Sir Ambrose were together, did he ever
express fear that his life was under threat?'

'Never.'

'Are
you sure?'

'Quite
sure. Sir Ambrose was a brave man. Nothing frightened him. He had such a
wonderful lust for life. That is what drew us together. I have never known
anyone with such appetites. He will be missed.' He shook his head and rolled
his eyes. 'Oh, he will indeed be missed. There are many establishments in this
city where his passing will be mourned.'

'Let
us turn to his politics.'

'He
was a man of some influence.'

'Which
party did he follow?'

'He
was a close associate of Lord Ashley.'

'The
Chancellor of the Exchequer? I had not realised that Sir Ambrose moved in such
exalted circles. Was he seen at Court?'

'From
time to time.'

'Would
his position have aroused envy among rivals?'

'Envy,
spite and rancour.'

'Could
you name some of those rivals?'

'Not
while my head is spinning like this. Good gracious, man!' he exclaimed, glaring
at his brother. 'I am in agony. I have just been told that a cherished friend
of mine has been stabbed to death in a cellar. You cannot expect me to sit here
calmly and talk about his political rivals. Besides,' he added, 'why should you
want to know? It is not your business to hunt down the killer.'

'I
am making it my business, Henry.'

'Why?'

'Because
I owe it to Sir Ambrose,' said Christopher earnestly. 'He gave me hope where
anybody else would have offered rejection. And yes, perhaps my ambitions have now
run aground but that is no reason to forget what Sir Ambrose Northcott did for
me. The least that I can do in return is to search for the fiend who murdered
him. And the least
you
can do, Henry, is to help me.'

'But
I do not see how.'

'Begin
with that list. Reflect on it at your leisure. When you are ready, write down
the name of any political opponent with whom Sir Ambrose clashed. Or any other
person with whom he fell out. Will you do that for me, please?' He shook his
brother's arm. 'Henry?' 'I will try.'

'Excellent!'

'But
I will make no promises.'

'Do
you have access to Lord Ashley?'

'Not
directly but I have friends who do.'

'Use
them to question him on this matter. Lord Ashley will have information about
Sir Ambrose that could prove crucial. If they were close, I am sure that the
Chancellor will be distressed to lose him.'

Henry
stiffened. 'And what about me? I am even more distressed. You do not realise
what this means to your brother, Christopher. I put years into that friendship
with Sir Ambrose. He opened doors for me.'

'I
will need to peep inside some of them.'

'Not
now, not now.
Please
!
Pester me no further.'

'One
last request.'

'What
is it?'

'I
will need Sir Ambrose's address.'

'In
Westminster?'

'No,
Henry, in Kent. That is where his family live. You mentioned a daughter. That
means he has a wife and, perhaps, other children. It is cruel to keep this news
from them any longer. Where will I find them?'

'You?
It is not your responsibility, Christopher.'

'Do
you volunteer to take it on?'

'How
can I?' said Henry, getting to his feet. 'I have far too much to do to go
riding off to Sevenoaks.'

'Is
that where his home is?'

'Near
there. A few miles to the east. It is a full day's ride even for such an
accomplished horseman as yourself.'

'Have
you ever been there?'

'No,
but Sir Ambrose often spoke about the onerous journey.'

'What
is the name of the house?'

Henry
Redmayne needed some time to grope in his memory.

'Well?'
prompted Christopher.

'Head
for the village of Shipbourne.' 'And the house?'

'Priestfield
Place.'