The name Menzies stirred a memory. It was only a moment longer before Gideon recognized the name of the mysterious stranger who had stopped at Lade’s and offended Tom. “I have heard something of this gentleman. Where do I find him?”
Anne looked at her mother, but Lady Oglethorpe shrugged. “I do not know where he stops when he is here. The name he uses here belongs to a printer in London, so you could ask this printer where to find Mr. Menzies. I know that this printer is very active in our cause. He raises money for the King.” She shrugged again. “Menzies may lodge with him, for all I know.”
“Do you know where Blackwell’s shop is?”
She shook her head. “No, but it is certain to be near Stationers’ Hall.”
This was no particular lead, since most of the printers’ shops stood in that quarter.
“I’m sure to find it. And you have no need to worry that you may have offended him by telling me. As a matter of fact, I’ve heard that the gentleman has expressed a strong desire to meet me.”
He thanked them both and bowed himself out, convinced that he would get no more from Lady Oglethorpe. It was good that he had sent for Tom, for false name or not, Tom would be able to recognize Menzies on sight.
* * * *
The inquest into the cause of Sir Humphrey’s death was held at the Court of King’s Bench in Westminster Hall, and was presided over by the Lord Chief Justice himself. As the principal coroner in the kingdom, it was his prerogative to exercise his jurisdiction in any corner of the realm, and, given the illustriousness of the victim, not to mention the other personages involved, he had chosen to involve himself.
The Court took up only the southeastern corner of the ancient hall, where once coronation banquets and even tournaments of honour had been held beneath the vastness of its hammerbeam ceiling. The Court of Chancery stood in the opposite southern corner, with the Court of Common Pleas in the middle of the west wall. The remaining walls were lined with shops and booksellers’ stalls, and the cavernous building resounded with muffled echoes from the shoppers’ voices and the plaintiffs’ pleas at the other courts.
It was neither the most comfortable nor the most convenient site for an inquest, since there were no chairs or benches on which to sit. The witnesses had to stand in front of the justices’ bench, which had been built so high that the justices’ faces loomed a good six to eight feet above them. They were intimidating in their robes and long periwigs, but Hester reckoned she would have been just as nervous anywhere else.
The formalities were soon got through. The sheriff led the jurors into an antechamber to view the body. They all returned with sober faces, one man holding a handkerchief to his mouth.
The calling of the individual witnesses followed. One of the watchmen gave his version of how he had been called to the scene of the suspicious death. He reported the finding of the bloody curtain through which Sir Humphrey had surely been stabbed, and the evidence he had taken from the gentlemen who had sat in Sir Humphrey’s box.
The Lord Chief Justice then passed on to hear that testimony himself. From the nature of his questions, Hester began to believe that the Crown had other motives in employing its highest permanent judge in the case.
Lord Chief Justice Parker could not very well accuse the witnesses he called of being Jacobites, disloyal to the Crown—not without more evidence—but his suspicions were apparent to Hester from the start. He seemed particularly keen to know about Harrowby’s relationship to the deceased, which would seem to have little bearing on the crime. Hester understood, even if her aunt and cousin did not, the danger of their association with Sir Humphrey and his friends, but Harrowby’s answers seemed to convince his lordship that there had been nothing sinister in their friendship.
The Lord Chief Justice also took a great deal of interest in Mr. Blackwell, who had still not been found. The only evidence that Hester was required to give concerned this gentleman’s departure from the box. When she was dismissed, she was relieved not to have been questioned about her cousin Dudley, for her willingness to help him did not extend to perjuring herself.
Her aunt was eager enough to do that. When it was Mrs. Mayfield’s turn to be questioned, she tried to distract the Lord Chief Justice from her son with an extreme show of grief. But after a few minutes of her tears, his sympathy became short-lived.
“I daresay this has been a terrible shock for you, Mrs. Mayfield, but if you cannot contain these emotions, I shall have to ask you to step aside.”
Hester wondered if he could see her aunt’s dry eyes from the bench, where he sat, looking down on the standing witnesses. Mrs. Mayfield had kept her features hidden in her handkerchief, and the only redness in her eyes was the result of vigorous rubbing. She peered up at his request, however, and promised to try to control her grief.
“It is the understanding of this court that you left Sir Humphrey’s box on his arm at the start of the interval. Is this true?”
“Yes—but we was only together for a minute. Just a short, short while. I’m sure your lordship will be ready to spare my blushes if I tell you that I had a very private errand to attend to, so I parted from poor dear Sir Humphrey right outside the box. If I had known what was going to happen to the old dear, I never would have left him for an instant. But no lady would drag a gentleman with her on an errand like that, as I’m sure your lordship will allow.”
If she had thought to captivate her listener with coyness, she was doomed to disappointment. Lord Chief Justice Parker scarcely managed to hide his grimace of distaste. The sudden change in the witness’s demeanour led him to focus on what she might be trying to hide rather than what she showed.
“Did you descend the stairs?”
“No, there was a servant in the corridor with a chamber pot. I gave him a penny to let me use it and was done.”
“Did you see if Sir Humphrey stopped to talk to anyone?”
Mrs. Mayfield answered, “No.”
“Did you see Sir Humphrey go downstairs?”
She responded to this so quickly as to make him prick up his ears. “No, he did not go down. I am certain of that.”
“If you are certain, it must be because you never took your eyes off the deceased, in which case you should be able to give us some idea of the persons to whom he spoke.”
“Well, I know he didn’t go down, but no, I can’t say who he spoke to. The crowd was something furious, you see. I really couldn’t see him from where I was.”
“Then how can you be sure that he did not descend the stairs?”
She stiffened, until an answer came to her. “I should have seen him if he did, because he would have walked right past me!”
Lord Chief Justice Parker gave an impatient frown. “My dear Mrs. Mayfield, are you not aware that there are two sets of stairs on that side of the theatre—one on each end of the corridor we are speaking of?”
Hester’s aunt refused to be daunted. “That may very well be, your lordship, but all I know is Sir Humphrey did not go down those stairs with my son, and so I swear.”
Hester hid a wince. She had never known her aunt to be so clumsy with her lies, but his lordship acted as if this was not first time he had questioned a mother in fear for her son’s life. He did nothing but sigh, and with an impatient look, thanked Mrs. Mayfield for her testimony. Then he asked the sheriff to call the next witness.
Both Isabella and Harrowby gave their evidence, including confirmation that the knife had come from Hawkhurst House. It was the knife that Isabella used to carve joints when she served their guests, but neither she nor her husband had the slightest idea how long it had been missing from their house, since they had not entertained guests to dinner for several days. Neither did they know how it had come to be at the opera in Sir Humphrey’s back.
They were not questioned very long, for in the case of both, it soon became apparent that their attention had been on themselves and the friends they had gossiped with during the
intermezzo
, and neither had anything useful to say. Isabella had sought the same relief as her mother, so Lord Lovett, who had escorted her from the box, had left her to her privacy. When, on emerging from behind the curtain, she had not found him, another gentleman she knew had hailed her and escorted her back to the box, where she had stood talking until her husband had joined them. She had seen no sight of Sir Humphrey or any of the others, but as she ingenuously said, she had not really been looking for them either.
The Lord Chief Justice was rather harder on Colonel Potter, which is what made Hester believe that he had been instructed to get to the bottom of the event by someone in the government. He asked the Colonel about his movements during the interval, and the Colonel responded much like the others, with the added information that he and Dudley had gone first for a drink. Colonel Potter said that he had left Dudley with the bottle, though, in order to speak to a fellow former officer of the Guards who had passed them.
When asked if had seen Dudley after they parted, he paused for a moment before saying no. Hester thought he appeared to be lying, but could think of no reason he should.
Colonel Potter also said that he had seen neither Sir Humphrey nor anyone else in their party until he encountered Lord Lovett on his way back to the box.
“Did you know this other fellow, Blackwell?” Lord Chief Justice Parker asked. He glared at the Colonel from under his massive periwig.
Colonel Potter hesitated, before saying, “I met him once—yes. I think Sir Humphrey presented him to me at some assembly or other. I cannot recollect where.”
This falsehood startled Hester. She looked about her to see if anyone else had noticed it, and caught Lord Lovett’s glance. He understood her quandary, for he raised one eyebrow as if to ask what she meant to do about it. Hester felt an answering flush. She could not accuse the Colonel of lying to the bench when she had no proof. She could remind him that she had seen him at Lady Oglethorpe’s house with Mr. Blackwell, but that would only bring Lady Oglethorpe into the case, and she was loathe to do anything concerning that lady without first consulting St. Mars. For her cousin’s sake, too, she would rather not reveal the fact that they had visited the house of a well-known Jacobite.
She turned her attention back to the Colonel’s testimony, feeling Lord Lovett’s gaze on her profile. She did not know whether he studied her in amusement or approbation, but she was almost certain both feelings were mixed in his look.
The Lord Chief Justice was pressing harder with his questions about Mr. Blackwell. He asked the Colonel why Sir Humphrey had invited a relative stranger to share his box.
Colonel Potter steadfastly refused to admit that he knew anything about it. He said that Sir Humphrey might have known this Blackwell better than it had seemed, but that he had most likely invited him merely to be cordial.
“Sir Humphrey Cove was an amiable sort of gentleman,” he said. From the way he said it, Hester could not be certain that he intended it as a compliment. He could just as well have been sneering at Sir Humphrey for his kindness. The Colonel’s sullen manner often made it very hard to tell what his true feelings were.
The Lord Chief Justice again tried to ask about Mr. Blackwell, but the Colonel stayed firm in his story, and in the end, he was excused.
Lord Lovett was asked many of the same questions, but not in the same accusatory tone. He retraced his steps that evening for the jurors, telling them how he left the box at the with Isabella and escorted her to the area that had been curtained off for the ladies, then how he had gone in and out of a neighbouring box to greet a pair of friends, before heading again into the corridor where he had seen the Colonel on his way back to their box. Citing the number of people milling about in the tight space, he also answered no to the question if he had seen Sir Humphrey or any of the others during the interval. And he claimed to have no knowledge of Mr. Blackwell, or who or where he was.
Hester did not know what to make of this last statement. Lord Lovett certainly had some knowledge of Mr. Blackwell, for he had admitted that much to her. The way he had phrased his answer, however, might not be considered perjury for she did not know if his knowledge of the gentleman was significant enough to mention. She could hardly blame him for not saying that Mr. Blackwell was a Jacobite agent. After the look he had sent her concerning Colonel Potter’s lies, Hester felt entitled to question him again later on the matter.
Dudley was asked all of the same questions. He had gone down the stairs at the rear of the theatre. When asked if he had seen anyone he knew, he flushed and darted a glance at his mother in such a way as to make Hester believe that he was hiding something. He told the Lord Chief Justice that he was relatively new to town and did not have a broad acquaintance. He answered truthfully that he had not seen Mr. Blackwell leave and that he had never seen him before that evening.
The Lord Chief Justice then asked him about a reported quarrel between Sir Humphrey and him. Dudley, who was well prepared for the question, and who had been instructed in his reply not only by his mother, but by his brother-in-law, too, said that he had foolishly lost his temper after drinking too much, and Sir Humphrey had graciously forgiven him for his bad manners.
This seemed to satisfy his lordship, who dismissed him with a warning to be careful how much he drank if he did not want to find himself held for breaking the King’s peace. And Dudley retired, barely hiding a glower at being lectured about his drinking habits yet again.
To their surprise another witness came forward. Hester could almost feel the tension from her companions, when Mr. Henry Wise stepped to the front and, in a visible state of emotion, related how he had been stopped by Sir Humphrey near the very spot where the bloody curtain had been found. Mr. Wise, gardener to his Majesty as he had been to Queen Anne, had often advised Sir Humphrey on the planting of his fruit trees. They had stood and chatted for a good five minutes before Mr. Wise, believing that the performance would soon be resumed, had taken his leave, as he said, “turning his back on the poor gentleman.”