The King's Evil (8 page)

'If
he does not, he must be blind. One question, if I may, sir,' he said, pointing
to the first of the drawings. 'Why are the cellars so large?'

'That
was the express wish of my client.'

'What
does he wish to keep down there?'

'Whatever
he wishes, Jacob. Mine is not to question the use to which he puts the cellars.
All I know is that Sir Ambrose was most particular about their extent and
design. This elaborate vaulting will test the skill of the bricklayers but it
is vital in order to support the weight of the house itself. I regard the
cellars as a minor triumph. The pity of it is that very few people will ever
get to admire the work I put into them.'

'
I
admire it, sir.'

'That
is praise enough for me.'

'The
whole house is fit for a king.'

'Sir
Ambrose would be flattered by such a thought.'

'The
only thing
is ...'
He broke off as he peered at the
front elevation again. 'I mean no disrespect, sir.'

'Go
on.'

'The
only thing is, sir, it looks a bit,
well...
foreign.'

'That
is the French influence.'

'Ah.'

'Specifically
ordered.' He grinned. 'Like my breakfast.'

'I
will get it for you at once, sir,' said Jacob, heading for the kitchen. 'No man
can work on an empty stomach. Though I still think that you should take a nap
to get your strength back.'

Christopher
did not hear him. He was already immersed in his work again, studying each of
the drawings with a searching eye to make sure that every detail was correct
and that it contributed properly to the overall symmetry of the house. He did
not need his brother to tell him how important the commission was. Apart from
putting much-needed revenue into his purse, it was a chance for Christopher
Redmayne to establish himself as an architect. In a highly visible profession,
success was its own best advertisement. If the house for Sir Ambrose Northcott
caught the eye and won general esteem, other commissions would assuredly follow
and Christopher would be able to play his part in the exciting work of
rebuilding a great city.

Close
to the ruins of Baynard's Castle, it was a prime site. The new regulations
forbade the building of houses along the riverbank itself so the dwelling was
set well back from it. Enclosed by a high stone wall, the long garden ran
almost down to the Thames and the rear windows of the house afforded an
uninterrupted view both of the river and of the one remaining turret of the
castle. Sir Ambrose Northcott was thrilled with this prospect, combining, as it
did, reality with romance, the busy world of commerce floating past on the
water with the noble profile of a derelict fortress. When darkness fell, the
lone turret would be silhouetted against the moonlit sky. It would make an
evocative neighbour.

When
work first began on the site, he visited it every day.

'What
progress have you made, Mr Littlejohn?' he asked.

'Small
steps forward, Sir Ambrose,' said the other. 'Small but significant steps
forward.'

'When
will the cellars be completed?'

'According
to schedule.'

'Good.
I will hold you to that, Mr Littlejohn.'

'You
will not find me wanting. May I say what an honour it is to work on such a
project, Sir Ambrose?'

'Then
do not allow any slacking among your men.'

'There
is no danger of that.'

'The
house must be ready on time.'

'I
have never failed a client yet.'

Samuel
Littlejohn was a sturdy fellow of middle years with a rubicund face and a
jovial manner. He positively exuded bonhomie. A successful builder even before
the fire, he was now in greater demand than ever and Northcott had to include
many financial inducements in his contract in order to secure him. Littlejohn
not only had a reputation for building sound houses to the exact specifications
of his clients, he invariably did so within the stipulated period of time. He
was a wealthy man who dressed well but, if occasion demanded, he was not averse
to taking off his coat and soiling his hands by helping his employees. He could
teach the best of them how to lay bricks and his carpentry was a source of
envy. Samuel Littlejohn enjoyed every aspect of his work.

'You
have chosen your architect well,' he said approvingly.

'That
is what I believe,' returned Northcott. 'I thought about it long and hard
before I reached my decision. Because of his youth, I had grave doubts at first
but they are fast vanishing.'

'Mr
Redmayne understands building.'

'He
came with the highest recommendation.'

'It
was justified.'

'I
am glad that you and he have such an affinity, Mr Littlejohn.'

'It
makes all the difference, Sir Ambrose. When an

architect
and builder do not work happily together, it shows in the finished structure.
The opposite is also true,' he added with a chuckle. 'Bricks and mortar glow.
Stonework gleams. Windows seem to glitter. When your house is built by men who
are in accord, it will have a broad smile on its face.'

'So
will I, if it is ready on the date agreed.'

'You
have my word, Sir Ambrose.'

'That
is good enough for me, Mr Littlejohn.'

The
builder was diverted by the arrival of a boat-load of timber and he excused
himself to supervise the unloading. Northcott surveyed the site with a deep
satisfaction then walked slowly around its perimeter. He could almost see the
finished house rising before his eyes. The omens were good. Everything was
proceeding exactly as he wished. He strolled across to the trestle table on
which Christopher Redmayne had spread out his drawings so that the builders
could work from them. Like his employer, the architect was on site every day.

'Do
you foresee any problems, Christopher?' asked Northcott.

'Not
at the moment, Sir Ambrose,' said the other, looking up. 'We seem to have it
all under control. Mr Littlejohn's men work hard.'

'I
look to him to keep them at it.'

'He
will most certainly do so. You could not have engaged a more experienced
builder. In the short time we have been acquainted, I have learned a great deal
from him. He has my admiration.'

'You
have certainly earned his.'

'Then
I am profoundly flattered.' He glanced towards the river. 'You have selected an
excellent site here, Sir Ambrose, and the fact that you have a private jetty is
a huge bonus. Materials which would otherwise have to be delivered to some busy
wharf upstream can be brought to the very bottom of your garden.'

'It
was a feature which attracted me to the property.'

'An
appealing situation for a merchant.'

'Trade
is only a small part of my life,' said Northcott with a frown. 'I could never
be described as a mere merchant.'

'Quite
so,' agreed Christopher, anxious not to offend him. 'You have many other arrows
to your bow, Sir Ambrose, I know. There must be few men of consequence in
London with a quiver as full as yours.'

'Very
few.'

'Your
talents are so copious. Henry is astounded by your vigour.'

A
sly smile. 'Your brother has his occasional bursts of energy.'

'But
nothing like your staying-power, Sir Ambrose. He is in awe of you, believe me.
Henry has his gifts but he could not do half the things which you contrive to
do.'

Northcott
was mollified. Christopher had a winning politeness and a readiness to please
his employer. Northcott was growing to like him. For his part, Christopher was
still too grateful to his companion to have any reservations about his
character. Northcott could be peremptory at times and downright rude if there was
the slightest questioning of his decisions but the architect took all that in
his stride, constantly aware that he who pays the piper calls the tune.
Christopher was more than content to play it for him and, in Samuel Littlejohn,
he had an ideal musical ally. The two of them worked together in perfect
harmony.

'This
will be my last visit
for
a little while,' said Northcott.

'Oh?
I am sorry to hear that.'

'I
will be away on business for a fortnight or more. When I come back, I hope to
see that substantial progress has been made.'

'We
will not disappoint you, Sir Ambrose.'

'During
my absence, Mr Creech will be in charge of my affairs.'

'Mr
Creech?'

'Solomon
Creech is my lawyer,' explained the other.

'All
monies due to you or to Mr Littlejohn will be released through him. I have also
asked him to keep a close eye on developments here so you will very soon be
making his acquaintance.'

'I
look forward to that. Away for a fortnight, you say?'

'At
least.'

'Will
you be returning home to Kent?'

'That
is my business,' said the other with a note of reprimand.

'Of
course, Sir Ambrose,' said Christopher. 'It is not my place to pry into your
affairs. I merely wished to know if there was some means of getting in touch
with you in the event of a contingency arising here.'

'Speak
to my lawyer.'

'Will
Mr Creech have ready access to you?'

'He
is empowered to act on my behalf.'

'Then
nothing more need be added on the subject.'

'Nothing
at all, Christopher.'

His
remark was buttressed by a mild glare. Christopher accepted the rebuke with
good grace and sought to win back Northcott's approval. He drew his employer's
attention to the drawings and the two of them were soon bent over the trestle
table, discussing every detail of the house. Their mutual enthusiasm for the
project quickly repaired the minor rift between them and they conversed for
almost an hour. By the time they finished, Northcott's good humour had returned
and he even felt able to pat his architect on the back.

'It
will be one of the finest houses in London,' he said.

'You
must take the credit for that, Sir Ambrose.'

'I
had the sense to choose the right architect and the right builder.'

'You
also purchased the best possible site,' Christopher reminded him with a sweep
of his arm. 'It is so appealing in every way, I am surprised that its previous
owner was ready to part with it.'

'When
his home went up in the blaze, he lost heart.'

'Could
he not build a replica in its place?'

'He
lacked the funds to do so,' said the other, 'and, though he will argue his case
in the fire court, he can look for very little compensation from that quarter.
I seized opportunity by the forelock and made him an offer which he was unable
to refuse.'

'I
am heartily glad that you did so, Sir Ambrose.'

'So
am I - now that we have agreed on the design. Everything is as I would wish.
But I must away,' said Northcott, suddenly conscious of the time. 'I have
important appointments today and I must call on my lawyer to give him his
instructions. He will shortly be in touch with you.'

He
waved a farewell then went off for a final word with Littlejohn. Christopher
pored over his drawings once more, untroubled by the many compromises he had
been forced to make between artistic impulse and the demands of his client.
Given a free hand, he would have opted for a slightly plainer style and
resisted all of the French flourishes which had been incorporated but it was
still a piece of work of which he was quite inordinately proud and it would
gain him considerable attention when it finally took its place in the new
landscape.

Christopher
was still revelling in his good fortune when he became aware that he was being
watched. It was not an intrusive surveillance. Indeed, it seemed to wash gently
over him like a benign wave and caused him to look up. The young woman was no
more than a dozen yards away, her gaze fixed on him, her teeth showing in an
open- mouthed smile of admiration. She was slim, comely and elegant in a dress
composed of several shades of blue yet there was a slight nervousness in her
manner which vitiated her poise. Christopher put her at no more than eighteen
or nineteen and he wondered why she was loitering alone in such a place. She
held his gaze for a full minute before modestly lowering her lids. His
curiosity stirred and conducted an approving scrutiny.

Samuel
Littlejohn ambled slowly over to the architect.

'You
have made a conquest, I think,' he noted.

'How?'

'Margaret
was so enamoured of your design for the house that she insisted she be given
the chance to meet you.'

'Margaret?
You know the young lady?'