by David Field
Saturday and Sunday passed without incident, although Ted Hollins was becoming more and more suspicious of the hidden presence of two constables on his premises, one of whom was keeping his pot girl from some of her duties. As a result, when a man sidled up to Ted’s counter on the Monday morning, enquiring after Browne and slipping Ted several sovereigns, the landlord was more than happy to advise his benefactor that the man he was seeking was indeed in residence in the large back room on the first floor, but was being closely attended by two of the town constables. The man thanked him, slipped away, and advised his paymaster accordingly.
In the early hours of Tuesday morning Polly shook Giles awake. ‘There’s something going on downstairs,’ she advised him. ‘I thought I heard a fight of some sort – best go and see if your friend Tom’s all right.’
Giles dressed hastily and ran down the flight of stairs, where he saw the door to Browne’s room flung wide open, with the room itself empty and the money bag missing. He raced back upstairs, got fully dressed, grabbed the sword he’d brought with him on the first day, and instructed Polly to race down to the front of the inn and alert the men who were supposed to have been keeping watch that Browne had been spirited away, along with Senior Constable Lincraft, and that he – Constable Bradbury – would be heading off after them. Then the thought occurred to him that he had no clue as to where he should be heading.
In the stables to the rear he found a very sleepy Ben Tanner sitting on an empty barrel that he used for a seat in between duties. Ben blinked as he saw Giles racing towards him, then spat in the straw.
‘It’s like the bloody Market Place in here tonight,’ he complained. ‘First them three, now you. I haven’t done nowt wrong since the last time you seen me, so what’s going on?’
‘What three?’ Giles demanded as he gripped Ben by the collar of his grimy jacket, and Ben wriggled free before explaining. ‘There was three fellers come riding in here a few minutes ago, and jumped off their horses. They told me to hold onto them, else they’d run me through with the swords they was carrying, then they kicked in the back door what goes into the skittles alley. They come out a few minutes later with that other constable feller what was with you when you come in here asking about that horse, and that bloke what was stabling his horse here until you lot locked him up. I’m fucked if I know what’s going on, but I reckon it’s time I found different bloody work, and that’s a fact.’
‘Where did they head off to?’ Giles demanded, but Ben shrugged. ‘They just went up the back lane, to the right there. Most likely heading for Chapel Bar, but they’ve been gone a little while now, if you was thinking of catching up with them.’
Giles glared along the line of stalls. ‘Which is the best horse in here?’ he demanded. ‘The grey gelding,’ Ben replied, ‘and I can saddle him in no time, if you make it worth my while.’
‘Do it – now!’ Giles demanded, ‘and as your reward I’ll speak to the landlord on your behalf when he accuses you of stealing it. Now get on with it!’
Ten frustrating minutes later, during which Giles finally remembered that Coroner Greville had an estate in Strelley, whose precise name escaped him for the moment, he leapt onto the stallion and thundered out into the lane. Making new use of his old skill on horseback that was a legacy of his younger days working on the land, he set the horse’s head westwards, breasted Zion Hill, and took the track to Wollaton and Derby at full gallop.
Chapter Nine
When Tom came round again for the third time it was to the swaying motion of the horse under whose belly his legs had been tied to keep him both upright and captive. The blow had been delivered by the hilt of a sword when the three armed men kicked in the door to Browne’s room at dead of night and demanded that Browne hand over the money he had been entrusted with in London. He’d meekly reached under his bedding and produced it, but when Tom had begun to insist that he travel with it in accordance with his instructions the leader of the intruders had assured him that ‘You’ll be coming along with us anyway, Constable Dogshit,’ and had dealt him the blow to the head.
Tom reached under his bonnet to confirm that there was indeed a massive lump where his head met his neck, and one of the group that was riding at a moderate pace through the semi darkness of an impending dawn warned him that he’d be run through if he made any effort to escape. ‘I won’t,’ Tom grunted, ‘but you arseholes will wish that I had when we get wherever we’re going. Where is that?’
‘Mind your own smelly business,’ he was advised, and he left it at that. To either side of them appeared to be trees bordering a road, so that Tom had no way of knowing where they were, other than the fact that they had travelled out of town. Perhaps when the light improved he might have a better idea, but for the time being Tom confined his thoughts to methods of loosening the restraints that connected his boots together under the belly of his horse. He was also fearful of losing consciousness again and falling sideways, which might prove fatal. He wasn’t altogether comfortable on horseback at the best of times, so for the immediate future he gripped the horse’s reigns firmly and went along with playing the captive.
Some distance behind them Giles had pushed his mount to the limit as he skirted the Wollaton estate of the Willoughby family and urged the horse into the right hand fork of the road when he came to the stone in the ground that pointed towards ‘Mansfield’. Although he was a County Constable, his duties thus far in his two years of service had kept him confined to the town, and as someone brought up in the fields of Tollerton, to the south, he knew nothing of the villages to be found north and west of Nottingham. But Tom had spoken of the estate of Coroner Greville being on a road leading into the adjoining county, which was Derbyshire, and Giles had chosen to risk everything on this being the intended destination for the money with which Browne had been entrusted.
The light of what they had called ‘the false dawn’ during his days as a farm labourer, and which had been the signal for him to rise from his bed if he was to have time for any breakfast, was now strong enough to reveal a vague cloud of dust some distance ahead, and Giles pulled on the reigns of his panting horse and stood up in the saddle for a better view. The weather had not been unduly dry, so a cloud of dust of that size must be created by several horses, and not just a solitary farmer on his early way to a local market, or a carousing squire on his way home. He reduced his gelding’s pace to a gentle trot in the hope that he had caught up with the group that had captured Tom, Browne, and the all important money.
The full dawn suggested that he had, and although it was too early, and he was too far in the rear, to be certain, neither could he afford to be seen by those he was following. He also needed to slow his pace if he had any hope of being joined by the soldiers employed by Walsingham to prevent precisely what had just happened. They might be useless at mounting guard, but hopefully they knew how to put their weapons to good use. All he could do was follow discreetly behind the group ahead of him, and hope that he’d guessed correctly.
In the leading group Tom at least had some idea of where they might be heading. One didn’t get to serve as a County Constable for the ten years and more that Tom had without being called out to outlying rural communities, and he had memories of being sent out to the Mansfield area in order to bring accused offenders back into Nottingham under escort in order to await trial at the next Assize while being held in a cell beneath the Shire Hall. It had been some time now, but as they came to a crossroads with a sagging sign pointing right towards Bulwell, and continued through it on the straight road ahead, Tom would have been prepared to wager a week’s wages that they were headed for Strelley. If so, then he was about to satisfy his curiosity regarding the vast estate that was allegedly occupied by Sir Henry Greville.
He was proved right when the group of which he was an unwilling member turned through a large, ornate gateway to the right, and proceeded down a long drive fringed with rhododendrons on its way towards an impressive stone built mansion that appeared
to have many rooms, accessed by means of a wide ornamental staircase, down which strode his old nemesis Sir Henry Greville. The retinue wheeled in a circle in front of the staircase, and Greville smiled unpleasantly at Tom.
‘You finally meddled in the wrong matter, Lincraft,’ Greville sneered from the third step, ‘and at long last the county will be governed in the manner of the old days. With the rightful queen on the throne, and the true religion restored, heretics like you can once again be put to the flame. But I have in mind a more fitting end for you.’
Tom glanced at the noose that was hanging from the broad oak to one side of the staircase with a horse and cart positioned under it, and Greville chuckled with glee as he followed Tom’s gaze. ‘That will indeed be your means of also departing this life, after I have dealt with the halfwit who was so easily persuaded to bring the money from London. Then you – and he – will be planted in the earth, in order to fertilise the new England that I and others having been awaiting for too long. You will of course recall that our last encounter was in connection with the discovery of a body under an oak tree on a country estate. Thanks to your interference the man who was intended to swing for that escaped with his life, but there will be a sweet irony in your body being similarly disposed of.’
While Tom was swallowing the bile of fear that invaded his throat, Greville demanded that the bag of money that had brought Browne from London be handed over without further delay. This done, his next order was for Browne to be pulled from his horse, for his wrists to be secured behind him with ropes, and that he be lifted onto the cart and the noose placed around his neck, while the other end was tied to the sturdy overhanging oak branch. He cackled like a rooster in a henhouse as he added
‘Then remove Lincraft from that horse, and tie his hands similarly. Then lead him towards the cart, that he may have a ringside view of what will be coming to him next.’
Giles had been close enough behind to see the party ahead of him swing through the estate entrance, and even crouching low over his horse’s neck he could make out the large head of his colleague Tom in the centre of the group, and realised that they had reached their destination. Unaware that Tom’s true identity was known to the rest of the group, and unable to see the ropes beneath the horse that denoted his capture, Giles gave serious thought to how he might assist when the party reached the house at the end of the drive, and Tom was face to face with whoever the money bag was being delivered to. In order to assess the situation more fully Giles need to get closer to what was about to take place, but without revealing his presence.
Lying just to one side of the house, and almost encroaching onto its lawns, was a coppice of some sort that led down all the way to the lane ahead of him, so Giles trotted the horse further along it until he reached its fringe, then dismounted. Tying the horse to the first of the trees that bordered the lane, he made his way swiftly through the remaining trees, on a line parallel to the formal drive, until he was crouched down in a thicket of gorse and bracken between two sturdy elms. From there he could clearly see the noose hanging from the oak branch, with the horse and cart sitting beneath it.
He knew enough about the bad old days to recognise a lynching when he saw one, and his heart jumped to his mouth as he saw Browne being led towards the spot, struggling, screaming for mercy, but no match for the two brutes who were dragging him remorselessly to his doom. Then he also saw that Tom’s hands were tied behind his back, and he recognised Coroner Greville from the inquest that he had recently attended with Tom. He had to do something, but what? There were six armed men out there, and with Tom’s wrists securely tied it would be one against six.
He heard the cracking of a piece of wood to his left, and simultaneously became aware of a rustling sound to his immediate right. He was about to draw his sword and take on whoever had discovered his hiding place when there came a stern command issued in a low but authoritative voice.
‘That’s quite far enough, Constable.’
Chapter Ten
Tom gawped with relief and astonishment as ten armed men broke through the trees on the far side of the makeshift gallows and made such short work of the two who had been in the process of loading Browne into the wagon that the remainder of Greville’s retinue fled while Browne’s rescuers removed the rope from around his head. Giles ran over to Tom with a grin, cut his hands free with his knife, and invited him to join in the joyous act of arresting Sir Henry Greville on charges that they could decide on later, once they had him safely gaoled in the Shire Hall. Then they dragged Greville before Walsingham, who frowned at him before delivering the bad news.
‘I don’t know precisely who you are,’ he advised Greville, ‘but I believe you to be part of the conspiracy launched from Rome to depose Her Majesty and replace her with the Scottish whore. I wish to know whatever it is that you know regarding this plot, and all those engaged in it. You may choose to reveal it all to me now, or to my associates in the Tower of London who are anxious to try out certain new instruments of persuasion that they have lately invented.’
‘All I know is that the money was to be sent north to York!’ Greville bleated in terror. ‘To whom?’ Walsingham demanded, and Greville supplied the names of William Barker and Robert Higford. Walsingham frowned.
‘I know Baker to have been the man who first handed over the money to the unfortunate Thomas Browne, who is celebrating his sudden reprieve from death by puking all over your lovingly cultivated lawn over there. Why would Baker also be in York to receive it?’
‘I know not!’ Greville insisted, ‘other than that he did not wish to travel north with it in his possession.’
‘And would these men, Baker and Higford of whom you speak, be secretaries to the Duke of Norfolk?’ Walsingham enquired with his first smile of the morning, and Greville nodded. ‘So it is spoken.’
‘Very well,’ Walsingham instructed two of the four men around him, ‘take this man back into the house, let him select garments suitable for travel and a lengthy period of imprisonment, then convey him in his own coach back down to Nottingham Castle. I will send to London for his onward escort to the Tower.’ Then he turned back to Tom and Giles with an even broader smile.
‘Giles were just telling me how he followed us all the way from The Bell,’ Tom announced gleefully, and Walsingham nodded. ‘It was as well that he did, since we were able to follow him. Fortunately for us, he proved indiscreet in his haste, and we were able to do so with ease. But I would hazard a conjecture that he had no idea where he was leading us.’
‘I didn’t,’ Giles confessed, ‘but I remembered Tom saying something about Strelley, and when I come up behind a group of horsemen heading north-west out of town, I took a gamble on it being the right group. But I had no idea that Tom were their prisoner.’
‘You can probably thank Ted Hollins for that,’ Tom growled, ‘and when we get back to town, he’ll be the next one down the stairs in the Guildhall, to join them three what attacked us. That were a week ago yesterday, did you know?’
‘Some bloody week!’ Giles grinned, then gestured towards the manor house. ‘I don’t know about you, but I reckon we should lay siege to Sir Henry’s kitchen and wine cellar.’
‘Help yourselves,’ Walsingham invited them, ‘but I must conclude matters here, then ride with all speed to London to advise Cecil that the plot first hatched by Roberto Ridolfi on the urgings of the Pope has been cut off at its knees. You will no doubt be hearing from me in due course, but for the time being feel free to enjoy a late breakfast.’
Two months later Tom and Giles returned to the Guildhall from their respective dinners to find that a package was awaiting each of them, delivered by a messenger wearing an unfamiliar livery. Tom opened his to discover that it contained two documents, one considerably longer than the other, and the second bearing a signature that he had seen before. While Giles simply stared at his single vellum in avid amazement, Tom read the first of his.
‘To Senior Constable Lincraft, most hearty gre
eting.
‘Due in part to the efforts of your good self, and your colleague in loyalty Constable Bradbury, the so named Ridolfi Plot has been foiled. Those responsible, identified and apprehended are now adding to the responsibilities borne by the Constable of the Tower as they await trial and almost certain execution. For their chief instigator, the Duke of Norfolk, there will hopefully be no trial, since Cecil is hopeful of having him attainted by Parliament.
‘Her Majesty has been graciously disposed to approve a scheme of my conception, whereby ordinary officers of the law such as yourself and Constable Bradbury shall be enrolled in a new body under the Crown to be known as ‘The Constables Royal’, whose honourable duty it shall be to work throughout the realm wherever and whenever their services shall be required in order to suppress rebellion and to labour tirelessly for the enduring peace of the nation happily governed by Her Majesty in her constant endeavours directed towards the welfare of her subjects.
‘It is both meet and just that the first two to be admitted to this worthy and prestigious office shall be those whose actions in seeking out those behind the Ridolfi Plot have so resolved Her Majesty to create it. Those men are Thomas Lincraft and Giles Bradbury, and I am sending each of you your letters of appointment, together with my most hearty congratulations on your award of same.
