The Counterfeit Crank Page 17

  ‘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.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she wondered.

  ‘To several places,’ he replied. ‘I began at the lawyer’s office and ended up at the Queen’s Head, where Lawrence had to be pacified. He was incensed because the company has been dealt another bitter blow.’

  ‘Your old landlord is returning?’

  ‘No, Anne. We’ve been spared that horror, though it will surely come if our run of bad luck continues. Someone raided our wardrobe and made off with the better part of it. They’ll raise a tidy sum by selling those costumes.’

  ‘Who would do such a thing?’

  ‘Rivals. Someone who had a grudge against us. Or simply a thief in search of making a profit. Lawrence is maddened. It took me an hour to calm him down.’

  ‘What of the lawyer?’ asked Dorothea, impatiently. ‘You said before you left that he might be able to help us.’

  ‘He did, Dorothea. Sit down again and I’ll tell you how.’ She and Anne resumed their seats. ‘Master Cleaton worked quickly,’ said Nicholas, remaining on his feet. ‘He found out where Joseph Beechcroft and Ralph Olgrave lived.’

  ‘They have chambers at Bridewell.’

  ‘Yes, but they also have homes and families.’

  Dorothea goggled. ‘Master Olgrave has a family? A wife and children?’

  ‘Judging by the size of his house, I think it very likely.’

  ‘Then how could he do what he did to me?’ she said in bewilderment. ‘That was not the action of a married man. What of his vows to his wife?’

  ‘I think that he forgets them when he chooses,’ said Nicholas, ‘and does so without compunction. He boasted to me that he never felt a twinge of guilt.’

  ‘You met him?’

  ‘I met the both of them, Dorothea. They are a well-matched pair.’

  ‘What did they say?’

  ‘The one assured me that Hywel had gone back to Wales, the other pretended that he had never heard the name. He also denied all knowledge of you.’

  ‘That’s shameful!’ cried Dorothea. ‘After what he did to me, that’s cruel.’

  ‘Cruel and disgraceful,’ said Anne, touching her hand in sympathy. ‘What did you do, Nick – confront the villains with their crimes?’

  ‘No,’ he replied, ‘I merely wished to take their measure. Master Beechcroft was inclined to bluster but his partner kept his feelings under control. I took him to the more dangerous of the two.’

  ‘Oh, he is, he is!’ said Dorothea with passion.

  ‘Then you must help me to bring him down.’ He turned to Anne. ‘If you will, please, fetch paper and pen. I want Dorothea to become an artist and draw as much of Bridewell as she can recall.’

  ‘I’ve no skill with a pen, Nicholas.’

  ‘But I do,’ said Anne. ‘I sit here and draw pretty hats all day.’ She headed for the door. ‘I’ll hold the pen and you can tell me where it should go on the paper.’

  ‘But why do you need a drawing of Bridewell, Nicholas?’

  ‘Because I need to understand where you were when the outrages happened.’

  ‘I was in the hall at first, then in Master Olgrave’s chamber.’

  ‘Show me where both of them are on a sketch,’ said Nicholas. ‘They are vile men, Dorothea, but they are also slippery. I’d gain nothing by accusing them to their faces. If I did so in public, they’d bring an action of slander against me.’

  ‘But I was there. I know what sort of men they are.’

  ‘And so do I, now that I have met the rogues.’

  She was aggrieved. ‘Can we not have them arrested and taken to court?’

  ‘Not until we have more proof, Dorothea,’ he said, ‘and the one certain way of doing that is to get a lot closer to Joseph Beechcroft and Ralph Olgrave.’

  Beechcroft paced up and down the room like a caged tiger. Ever since he had arrived at Bridewell, he had been in a state of agitation. Olgrave, on the other hand, was relaxed and cheerful. Reclining in a chair, he sipped a cup of wine.

  ‘He knows, Ralph,’ said his partner with alarm. ‘The fellow knows.’

  ‘How can he know? There were only two of us there.’ He grinned. ‘Well, three of us to be precise but that turbulent Welshman could not stay. The river called him.’

  ‘Why did he ask me if Hywel Rees had swum back to Wales?’

  ‘To see if he could chase the c
olour from your cheeks, and he succeeded. You are too easily shaken, Joseph. Learn from me to keep a straight face.’

  ‘When I am accused of a murder?’

  ‘That’s not what happened,’ said Olgrave. ‘Nicholas Bracewell was guessing. He has a little knowledge, I grant you, and tried to augment it by frightening you. Thanks to your folly, he now has more to bite upon.’

  ‘My heart pounded when he mentioned swimming.’

  ‘Only because you rely on your emotions instead of your brain. Think, Joseph. Use your head and you’ll see that we are not in imminent danger.’

  ‘I believe we are,’ said Beechcroft, stopping beside him. ‘Nicholas Bracewell is on our trail, Ralph. He used that ruse to get into my house then suddenly produced two names out of the air that I hoped never to hear again.’

  ‘And how do you suppose he did that?’

  ‘He must have been acquainted with the pair of them.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Olgrave, ‘but they were both out of his reach inside Bridewell. How could he know that Hywel Rees had been killed and tossed into the Thames?’ Tapping his head with a finger, he stood up. ‘Think, man. Do as I bid you. Use your brain.’

  Beechcroft shrugged. ‘It must have been a wild guess.’

  ‘I fancy not. There is another explanation.’

  ‘I do not see it, Ralph.’

  ‘But it stands right before you, man. The only way that Nicholas Bracewell could be aware of the Welshman’s death, was if the body had been washed up out of the river. In short, he was clever enough to go to the morgue in order to check.’

  ‘And was the body found?’

  ‘I suspect that it might have been. When I’ve calmed you down, I mean to visit the morgue myself in order to be certain. Yes,’ he added, draining his wine, ‘and I shall ask the coroner who else has shown an interest in Hywel Rees. I believe that I know the name he’ll give me.’

  ‘Nicholas Bracewell,’ said Beechcroft, curling his lip. ‘Who is the fellow?’

  ‘We’ll find out somehow, Joseph, and he will lead us to her.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Dorothea Tate. He must be working in league with that little scorpion.’

  ‘We were wrong to discharge her.’

  ‘We could hardly keep her here to rant and rave. Besides,’ said Olgrave with a cackle, ‘I’d had my sport with her. When we turned her out, I thought she’d end up in the stews of Bankside. Dorothea would make a lively trull now that I’ve introduced her to the trade. She fought like a terrier,’ he recalled. ‘I still have the scratches down my back. Until they heal, I’ll not dare to lie with my wife.’ He cackled again. ‘I only lie to her.’

  Beechcroft was on the move again. ‘And you believe that she and that man are confederates? That disturbs me, Ralph. They could bring us down.’

  ‘Not if we keep our nerve.’

  ‘I lost mine for a second when he called at my house.’

  ‘He’ll not come again, I warrant you. And he can hardly reach us here,’ Olgrave reminded him. ‘Bridewell is our kingdom. No power in the land can threaten us.’

  ‘Dorothea Tate might do so, if she has enough help.’

  ‘Then we’ll have to make sure she does not get it. Nicholas Bracewell paid a visit to our houses. When we find out where he lives, we’ll do the same to him. My guess is that the girl will be staying there as well. Relax, Joseph,’ he said, confidently. ‘We’ll do what we should have done before.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Hit two marks with the same shot.’ His eyes shone. ‘We’ll kill the pair of them.’

  Chapter Ten

  Margery Firethorn was smouldering with anger as she sat in the half-dark of her parlour. There was a single lighted candle beside her. It was the second night in succession when she found herself waiting up for an errant husband and that served to sharpen the edge of her temper. Everyone else in the house in Shoreditch had retired to bed but she was determined to sit up for her spouse, no matter how long it might take. Such was the strength of her resolve that there was no danger of her falling asleep. A hundred candles burnt brightly inside her.

  At long last, she heard the sound of a horse’s hooves, clacking on the hard surface of Old Street. She blew out the flame and plunged the room into darkness, listening to Firethorn dismount, stable the animal and, after some delay, let himself into the house. Leaving his hat on the wooden peg behind the door, he stole into the parlour on tiptoe, intending to creep up the stairs with the least possible noise. Firethorn had just reached the first step when a voice shattered the silence.

  ‘Lawrence!’ snarled his wife.

  ‘My God!’ he exclaimed, a hand to his chest. ‘Is that you, Margery?’

  ‘Who else would bother to stay up for a worthless husband like you?’

  ‘Ah,’ he said, as she was conjured out of the gloom to stand a few inches away from him. ‘There you are, my angel.’

  ‘Angel me no angels,’ she warned. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘Business affairs kept me away from your warm bosom.’

  ‘That was your excuse yesterday and I did not believe it then. You swore to me that you’d return early this evening so that you could welcome Jonathan.’

  ‘Jonathan?’

  ‘Have you forgotten that my brother-in-law was arriving today?’

  ‘It went quite out of my mind,’ he confessed. ‘I’ve had such a day at the Queen’s Head that all else fled from my busy brain.’

  ‘So I am left alone to feed the children, the apprentices and our visitor, while you are revelling with the other actors. It’s not fair, Lawrence. It’s not kind.’

  ‘A thousand pardons, my love,’ he said, reaching out to embrace her, only to have both hands smacked away. ‘Instead of scolding me, you should pity me.’

  ‘Pity you!’ she echoed. ‘I’d sooner beat you black and blue.’

  ‘If that relieves your anger, you may do it. I’ve suffered so much today already that I’ll not even feel the blows. I’ve been knocked about until I am quite numb.’

  Margery grabbed his beard. ‘What’s her name, Lawrence?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The woman who has kept you out late for two nights. Who is this jade? Come, sir,’ she demanded, tightening her grip, ‘who is this wanton hussy?’

  ‘She goes by the name of Dame Fortune,’ he groaned, ‘and she’s battered me harder than you could ever do. It was not enough for her to deprive me of Edmund, Nick and the takings from The Maid of the Mill. She also robbed us of our costumes and took away my sanity.’

  Margery released him. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The slow death of Westfield’s Men.’

  ‘Your costumes were stolen?’

  ‘All that were of any value,’ he said. ‘Hugh Wegges discovered the theft this morning. The landlord offered us five pounds to cover our loss but we’d need ten times that amount at least. And the worst of it is, Nick Bracewell was not there to help.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It would take too long to explain, Margery.’

  ‘He’s never let you down before.’

  ‘No, that’s why I summoned him. I knew that he’d call on Edmund at some time so I left a message there about the loss of our wardrobe. How can we play Love and Fortune tomorrow if we have nothing to wear?’

  ‘Nick is the only person who could answer that question.’

  ‘He’s promised to try,’ said Firethorn, wearily. ‘And, since we are so embattled, he’s agreed to hold the book for us tomorrow afternoon instead of deserting us.’ He gave a low moan. ‘I never hope to see a day as bad as this again, Margery.’ A mirthless laugh followed. ‘And there’s my wife, thinking that I’m lying in the arms of some buxom wench. Dame Fortune keeps a cold bed, I can tell you. I’ve had no pleasure between her thighs today.’

  ‘Oh, you poor man!’ she said, embracing him. ‘I misjudged you, Lawrence.’

  ‘I’ve been bound to Ixion’s wheel.’

&n
bsp; ‘Why did you not send word of all this trouble? I’d then have been able to explain to Jonathan that you were delayed. He was so anxious to speak to you.’

  ‘I had anxieties of my own to occupy me.’

  ‘You can see my brother-in-law tomorrow, and travel with him into the city.’

  ‘Must I?’ protested Firethorn.

  ‘Jonathan wishes to go to the Queen’s Head so that he can watch the rehearsal.’

  ‘When we are in such confusion? Keep him away, Margery. He’ll see us at our worst and take a low opinion of our work back to your sister in Cambridge. Instead of watching Love and Fortune, your brother-in-law will see only Hatred and Misfortune.’

  ‘You’ll rally somehow.’

  ‘Even Lazarus could not rise again from this. Help me, my dove. Jonathan Jarrold is a tedious fellow at the best of times. Spare me his company.’

  ‘Leave we that decision until the morning. Our bed calls us.’

  He smiled hopefully. ‘Are we reconciled, then?’

  ‘No,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘But we soon will be.’

  Nicholas Bracewell rode into the yard of the Queen’s Head on the horse that he had borrowed from Anne Hendrik. Across the pommel were several garments that he had managed to collect from Anne and from some of her neighbours. She had also supplied the selection of hats that he had carried in a bag. George Dart came scurrying across to him to take everything he had brought. He took it off to the tireman. Nicholas dismounted and gave the reins to the ostler who stood by. He was pleased to see that their makeshift stage had already been erected but even more delighted to note that Owen Elias was there so early in the morning. The Welshman came across to him.

  ‘Good morrow, Nick,’ he said. ‘More costumes, eh? That’s good. I’ve loaned a rag or two from my own meagre wardrobe. They’ll serve for a rustic comedy like Love and Fortune. But what news of Dorothea?’

  ‘She frets, Owen.’

  ‘Who would not, in her position? I long to help the girl but I’m forced to chafe at the bit here. Lawrence sorely needs us.’

  ‘That’s why I’m here,’ said Nicholas, ‘but I’ve not forgotten Bridewell.’