The Counterfeit Crank Page 13

  ‘They took me to Master Olgrave’s room,’ she murmured.

  Lawrence Firethorn was taken aback when he first met the man. Philomen Lavery was not at all what he had expected. Having knocked hard on the door of the man’s room at the Queen’s Head, he was confronted by a sight that drained him instantly of the fury he had built up. Lavery did not only look meek and mild, he was holding a Bible in his hands. He gave his visitor a luminous smile.

  ‘Master Firethorn,’ he said. ‘This is an honour.’

  ‘You know who I am?’

  ‘All London knows who you are, sir, and I have had the privilege of seeing you on the stage here. You are beyond compare as an actor. I humble myself before you.’

  Firethorn was flattered. ‘Which of my roles do you admire most?’

  ‘All are played with equal skill,’ said Lavery, opening the door wider. ‘But do step inside. I knew that you would come to see me sooner or later.’

  ‘You knew?’

  ‘The landlord told me that you frowned upon my presence here.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ said Firethorn, stepping into the room and trying to assert himself. ‘True it is, I have some qualms about you, Master Lavery. This is the first moment I’ve had to voice them.’

  Lavery closed the door. ‘Speak on, sir.’ He put the Bible on the table. ‘Unless you wish me first to remove my shoes.’

  ‘Your shoes?’

  ‘So that you may inspect my feet to see if I have cloven hooves.’

  ‘There’s no need for that.’

  ‘You’ll have to take my word that I lack a forked tail,’ said Lavery, ‘for it would be indecent of me to lower my breeches.’

  Firethorn grinned. ‘If Barnaby Gill were here, it would also be unwise.’

  ‘I am no creature from Hell. As you see, I study Holy Writ on the Sabbath.’

  ‘The Devil has been known to quote scripture, Master Lavery.’

  ‘But he has never been known to lose at cards.’

  ‘Lose?’

  ‘That’s the fate that befell me last night,’ said Lavery. ‘I won money from Frank Quilter and even from Adam Crowmere, then along comes a member of your company and I am suddenly out of pocket again.’

  ‘One of the actors?’ asked Firethorn in annoyance.

  ‘James Ingram.’

  ‘He dared to come here after I’d warned him against doing so?’

  ‘With the greatest respect, Master Firethorn, you are not his keeper. You may warn but not coerce your fellows. Had he listened to you, James Ingram would not now be able to count his winnings.’

  ‘I am worried about those who incur losses at your table.’

  ‘Then you must extend your sympathy to me,’ said Lavery with another smile. ‘I fell in love with card games many years ago. I’d play for the sheer pleasure of it, without a penny changing hands, but those who come to my room insist on placing a wager. What can I do, Master Firethorn?’

  ‘Turn them away.’

  ‘And deny myself the joy of a game?’

  ‘If you wish to play cards, visit a gaming house. The city is full of them.’

  ‘And the gaming houses are full of cony-catchers, men who play with marked cards that allow them to win at will. I want an honest game where chance is paramount.’ Lavery became anxious. ‘Has anyone complained that I cheat?’

  ‘No, that charge has not been levelled against you.’

  ‘Do they think me dishonest?’

  ‘You are exonerated there as well, Master Lavery.’

  ‘Then wherein lies my offence?’

  ‘You are distracting my fellows,’ said Firethorn.

  ‘Every man needs distraction of some kind. Look around you. Some find their pleasure in ale, others in women, others again in bear baiting or cock fighting. London is brimming with such distractions,’ Lavery pointed out, ‘and the theatre is among the best of them. Those who come to the Queen’s Head take the same risk as a card player. They pay money in the hope of gain. If the play is dull or the actors jaded, the spectators have lost all that they invested.’

  ‘That never happens here,’ said Firethorn, proudly. ‘Our audiences always get far more than they pay for, Master Lavery. Do not insult us by comparing us to a game of cards. Westfield’s Men offer drama and excitement.’

  ‘Both of those are on display here, albeit in smaller measure.’

  ‘I do not see them.’

  ‘That is because you have not felt the surge of blood as you turn a card.’ Lavery crossed to a shelf and took down a pack of cards. ‘Allow me to show you, sir.’

  Firethorn took a step back. ‘Keep those away from me.’

  ‘They’ll not bite you, Master Firethorn. How can they? Look,’ he said, putting the pack on the table and spreading it out. ‘Are you afraid of a few pieces of card?’

  ‘I’ve seen what they do to others.’

  ‘Yes, they can fill a purse. Speak to James Ingram on that account.’

  ‘I’ll speak to him to chide him for his folly.’

  ‘At least know what drew him to my table,’ said Lavery. ‘It is so simple and yet so pleasurable. Watch me.’ He turned over a card. ‘Now, Master Firethorn, choose one yourself and see if it is higher than mine.’

  ‘Do you dare to trick me into a game?’ roared Firethorn.

  ‘This is no game, sir. I merely offer proof. Come now, I do not seek your money, only your understanding.’ He indicated the cards. ‘Turn one over then tell me if you did not feel a twinge of excitement.’

  Firethorn was reluctant. ‘I prefer to find excitement in other ways.’

  ‘What can you lose? There’s no trickery here. Chance determines all.’

  ‘That’s what you said to Nathan Curtis and Hugh Wegges.’

  ‘They pressed me to play for money,’ said Lavery. ‘I could not refuse a wager. Here, there is no such risk. All that you forfeit is your suspicion of the game.’

  ‘Do not rely on that,’ said Firethorn, eyeing the cards. ‘I choose one?’

  ‘From anywhere in the pack.’

  ‘How do I know they are not marked?’

  ‘Examine them, if you wish.’

  ‘No, no, I’ll take your word for it.’

  After a moment’s hesitation, Firethorn selected a card and turned it over. The face of a red king stared up at him. He could not resist a smile at his good fortune.

  ‘You see?’ said Lavery. ‘You are the winner. Had you wagered a groat on that card, you’d be walking away with two. Now, Master Firethorn,’ he went on, collecting the cards up again, ‘tell me the truth. Do you feel defiled for having played a game? Were you disappointed when you made your choice? What do you say?’

  There was a considered pause. ‘Let’s try it again,’ said Firethorn.

  Nicholas arrived back at the house to discover that Dorothea Tate had retired to bed for the afternoon. He was very grateful. It gave him an opportunity to pass on the sad tidings to Anne Hendrik. She was aghast at what she heard.

  ‘Her friend was murdered?’ she said.

  ‘Battered to death then tossed into the river.’

  ‘Can you be certain that it was him?’

  ‘No,’ admitted Nicholas. ‘We only met Hywel once and that was brief enough. But we recognised a scar upon his nose and it seems too great a coincidence that he should turn up where and when he did. Owen and I are persuaded that it is him, but only Dorothea would know for definite.’

  ‘Must she, then, view the body?’

  ‘I think not, Anne. It’s the last thing she must do. It’s a gruesome sight for anyone to look upon. No,’ he decided, ‘Dorothea must be allowed to remember him as he was. Were she to visit the morgue, that bloated image would haunt her forever.’

  ‘Who could have done such a thing to him?’

  ‘We have one suspect at least.’

  ‘Master Beechcroft?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Nicholas. ‘I had to restrain Owen from charging off to Bridewell to accuse the man to his face. We ha
ve no proof as yet. Besides, the man may be innocent of the charge. Hot words were spoken against Hywel but that does not mean they were acted upon. Joseph Beechcroft may not be involved at all.’

  ‘Then who is?’

  ‘I do not know, Anne. London is full of danger and we know that Hywel would not run away from a fight. He might have been attacked by a gang, who threw him in the Thames. Or fallen foul of a sailor who tumbled out of a tavern. Bodies are all too often hauled out of the water.’

  ‘What will you tell Dorothea?’

  ‘As little as possible.’

  ‘She must be told that he’s dead, Nick, and she’s bound to ask the cause.’

  ‘I want to spare her as much pain as I can.’

  ‘Dorothea is stronger than you think,’ said Anne. ‘We talked for hours while you were away. She spoke about her childhood, such as it was. It’s been a very hard life for her. Only someone with strength and courage could have come through it.’

  ‘If she spoke so freely, she must have trusted you.’

  ‘I think she does, Nick. Why?’

  ‘It might be better if you were to tell her about Hywel.’

  ‘Teach me what to say and I’ll gladly take on the office.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Nicholas, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. ‘You’ll do it better than I could manage. While you comfort Dorothea here, I can try to pick up a trail that leads us to the killer.’ He glanced upwards. ‘How long will she sleep?’

  ‘Who knows? She said she’d not stir from this room until she knew what happened to Hywel, but she fell asleep in the chair so we put her to bed.’

  ‘Did she tell you anything about Bridewell?’

  ‘A great deal, Nick. Her time in that workhouse has marked her for life.’

  Anne told him what she had learnt about the way that the institution was run and how Dorothea Tate had suffered at the hands of her keepers. Nicholas listened intently to the description of what had happened at the feast to which the girl had been unwillingly dragged. It was clear that she had given Anne a much more detailed account.

  ‘She never mentioned Master Olgrave to us,’ he said.

  ‘He’s a ruthless man, Nick, even more so than his partner.’

  ‘We’ll need to look at both of them in time.’

  ‘Start with Ralph Olgrave,’ advised Anne. ‘He committed the greater crime against Dorothea. He had her brought to his room one night. Master Beechcroft only had the girl whipped. His partner robbed her of her virtue.’

  Nicholas was shocked. ‘Dorothea was raped?’

  ‘It left her feeling so ashamed, Nick. She broke down when she told me.’

  ‘Ralph Olgrave will be called to account for this,’ he promised. ‘Their contract with the city authorities gives them such wide powers inside Bridewell that they think that they can get away with anything. We’ll have to show them otherwise.’

  ‘Go carefully. They are dangerous men.’

  ‘Dangerous but cowardly, Anne. It is easy to strike at people who are defenceless. Only cowards do that. We’ll see how much courage they have when they meet someone on equal terms. Joseph Beechcroft and Ralph Olgrave have a shock awaiting them.’ He rose from the chair. ‘I’ll back to Owen and acquaint him with what I’ve heard.’

  ‘Shall I speak to Dorothea when she wakes?’

  ‘If you would. All you need to say is this.’

  Before he could instruct her, however, there was a tap on the door and Dorothea came into the room. She rushed across to Nicholas and looked up hopefully at him.

  ‘Did you find Hywel?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, quietly. ‘I fear that we did.’

  Dorothea read his expression and tried to hold back tears. Anne immediately put a comforting arm around the girl’s shoulders. Tightening her jaw and bunching her fists, Dorothea looked up at Nicholas.

  ‘Tell me the truth,’ she insisted. ‘I can bear to hear it. How did he die?’

  Chapter Eight

  Most people would protest if they found themselves suddenly interrupted on the Day of Rest, but Henry Cleaton could not have been more welcoming. The visitors were invited into his parlour and given refreshment. Cleaton was a man who did not always conform to the rules of his profession. His appearance set him completely apart from his fellow lawyers. With his shock of red hair and his rubicund cheeks, he might have been a farmer and he had a stocky frame that hinted at long years of manual labour. There was also a genial quality about him that flew in the face of the lawyer’s traditional caution. Meeting him again after a lapse of time, Nicholas Bracewell was reminded of the new landlord at the Queen’s Head. Henry Cleaton had the same willingness to please.

  ‘We are sorry to trouble you at home,’ said Nicholas, ‘but we need advice.’

  ‘Then you were wise to call here,’ said Cleaton, indicating the room. ‘It is far tidier than my office and much more comfortable. As for disturbing me, think no more of it. I am glad of your company. Since my wife died and my children moved away, it can be very lonely on a Sunday afternoon.’

  ‘We are not imposing, then?’

  ‘Not at all, Nicholas. The case interests me. When Owen called on me yesterday, my ears pricked up at the mention of Bridewell. You are trying to find a young man who was recently imprisoned there, I believe.’

  ‘We found him,’ said Elias. ‘On a slab at the morgue.’

  ‘Dear me! How did that come to pass?’

  ‘With your help, we mean to find out.’

  ‘Did he die a natural death?’

  ‘No,’ said Nicholas. ‘His skull had been cracked open. Thus it stands.’

  He related the salient facts as swiftly and dispassionately as he could. Elias felt obliged to make comments from time to time but it was Nicholas who controlled the narrative. Cleaton was intrigued by all that he heard.

  ‘Murder, rape, mismanagement,’ he said. ‘These are serious charges.’

  ‘One can certainly be nailed to the door of Bridewell,’ asserted Nicholas, ‘and that’s the violation of Dorothea Tate. The girl is not given to lies.’

  ‘But she is, alas. Did you not tell me that she was the accomplice to a counterfeit crank? That’s blatant dishonesty. The first thing she told you was that she and this Hywel Rees were brother and sister. Forgive me, Nicholas,’ said Cleaton, ‘but this girl is plainly seasoned in deceit.’

  ‘She would not deceive us about a thing like this.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I’d stake every penny I have on it, Master Cleaton.’

  ‘Your loyalty is admirable and, since you’ve met Dorothea Tate, I’ll have to trust your judgement. No court would do so, however. Ralph Olgrave is an upright citizen. For a vagrant like this girl to accuse him of rape would be a waste of breath.’

  Elias was roused. ‘Are you saying that he’s allowed to get off scot-free?’ he demanded. ‘That he can deflower any maid at will and face no consequence? That’s not justice, Master Cleaton.’

  ‘It’s the way the law functions and you must beware of that.’

  ‘In short,’ said Nicholas, ‘we need more evidence.’

  ‘Nothing less than a confession would satisfy a court, and I doubt that Master Olgrave will be minded to oblige you with one. Seek other ways to bring him down.’

  ‘Will you give us some guidance in the matter?’

  ‘I’ll do more than that. I’ll work with you to unmask these rogues.’

  ‘We’ve no proof that either was involved in the murder,’ Nicholas reminded him. ‘And even if they were, I doubt that they would have struck the fatal blows themselves. Confederates would have been hired.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Elias. ‘Alehouse ruffians that would kill their own mothers for a fee.’

  Cleaton pondered. He had met both men when dealing with a case that concerned their friend, Frank Quilter. In the course of the investigation, the lawyer had got to know Nicholas particularly well and come to respect him highly. It was the
reason he had admitted them to his home at such a time. Unless the matter was serious, Nicholas would never have ventured to disturb him like that.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ he asked.

  ‘Does a lawyer need to be told that?’ said Nicholas with surprise. ‘Crimes have been committed. Rank injustice has occurred. Prompt action is required, Master Cleaton.’

  ‘Yes, but why do you have to instigate it? These young people have been cruelly abused, but it is not your duty to fight on their behalf. Until a week or so ago, they were total strangers to you.’

  ‘Hywel is Welsh,’ said Elias. ‘That’s enough for me.’

  ‘What of the girl?’

  ‘She turned to us for help,’ replied Nicholas. ‘We’ll not disappoint her.’

  ‘Then you must realise that obstacles will face you at every turn. You are up against cunning men who occupy positions that are well nigh impregnable. Do not think to storm Bridewell.’

  ‘I could not even get through the door,’ confessed Elias.

  ‘Then work another way,’ suggested Cleaton. ‘Let me make enquiries. Joseph Beechcroft and Ralph Olgrave will both have apartments at the workhouse, but they will also have homes elsewhere. That’s the place to stalk them.’

  ‘Can you find out where they live?’ said Nicholas.

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘We would be very grateful.’

  ‘It might be safer if you accost them alone, Nicholas.’

  Elias was piqued. ‘Why? I can ask as straight a question as Nick.’

  ‘But you’d do so in a voice that would remind them of Hywel Rees,’ argued Cleaton. ‘That would put them on their guard at once. If you wish to squeeze the truth out of them, they need to be treated with care. Accuse them of nothing. Simply make enquiries about the whereabouts of Hywel Rees.’

  ‘I will,’ said Nicholas. ‘I know how to tread softly.’

  ‘So do I,’ insisted Elias with a hint of belligerence. ‘I am softness itself.’

  ‘There’ll be work enough for you, Owen. Have no fear.’

  ‘I want to meet this Ralph Olgrave.’