A Missed Murder

by Michael Jecks

  She had a point there, too.

  ‘Well?’ she added, folding her arms and staring at me with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘Well, what?’

  ‘What now?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Have you found Michol yet?’

  ‘No, but my friend Humfrie is doing that for me.’

  ‘Your friend … Do I have to explain everything to you in simple words?’ she sighed.

  ‘I don’t need to stand here and be insulted,’ I said.

  ‘No. Not when there are so many others prepared to stand in line to insult you,’ she said sweetly. ‘But for now, since I’m the only woman present, I’d best take on the responsibility, you poor fool. Who is this man Humfrie?’

  ‘He …’ I hesitated. I didn’t want her to get to hear that I had to use an unofficial murderer to carry out my executions. ‘He’s a friend who performs certain confidential tasks for me.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Such as finding your man Michol,’ I said with some asperity.

  She nodded. ‘Then you had best meet him as soon as possible to learn what he has discovered.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where?’

  I felt my mouth open and shut again. ‘He said to meet me at my house.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Before Vespers.’

  ‘Then we should be on our way.’

  ‘You are coming with me?’

  ‘I don’t think I can trust you on your own, do you?’ she said, not unkindly, but as she crossed the floor, she slapped my cheek like a mother patronizingly patting a foolish child, so not exactly trying to spare my feelings either.

  When he saw Agnis waiting with me, Humfrie’s face went as still and expressionless as a statue’s.

  ‘It’s all right, Humfrie,’ I said. ‘She is a sensible woman and keeps her mouth clamped shut.’

  ‘That’s good, Master,’ Humfrie said. ‘But she will wait outside while I have a private word with you.’

  ‘That’s not necessary,’ I said.

  ‘But she will wait outside.’

  With a sense of irritation, I rolled my eyes and looked over to her. She smiled, but as I looked at her, my ballocks froze to balls of ice. That’s how cold her expression was as she inclined her head graciously to Humfrie and strode from the room.

  ‘What do you mean by being so—’ I began, but he cut me off, his voice little more than a hiss.

  ‘Are you truly this confused about the world? She is a woman, so she cannot be trusted to keep her mouth from flapping with her friends, and she is an unknown person when it comes to serious business. How do you know she is not the paid informant of your enemies? How do you know she is not the person come specifically to destroy you?’

  ‘She is just a young widow, Humfrie!’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I’ve seen her house. She would not live there if she had any choice.’

  ‘How do you know that is her home?’

  I laughed, and then caught sight of his expression. For an instant the air expelled in humour was blocked by incoming air. It was as if Mal’s hands had managed to reach me at last and were choking me. I managed to clear my throat after a moment’s gurgling, and said, ‘Who else’s home would it be?’

  ‘You tell me you want an assassin to help you, because you work for rich, powerful men. Now you have no money, you have been told not to kill the man you pushed into the Thames, and you have to kill another man, and you cannot see that letting a woman like her into your affairs could be dangerous?’

  ‘We need to kill this Michol. He’s a danger for some reason.’

  ‘You don’t even know why, do you?’

  ‘Yes! He has been spreading lies about the Lady Elizabeth, I expect.’

  ‘You expect! He is very friendly with the French.’

  ‘Well, there you are, then!’

  ‘You told me that he was an intelligencer for the French. Who told you that?’

  ‘I don’t know!’

  ‘Was it her?’

  ‘Maybe – what of it?’

  ‘You have a reputation, Master Blackjack. You should protect it carefully. You wouldn’t want to have others start to play with it, would you?’

  ‘I … others play with it? What do you mean?’

  He rolled his eyes this time. ‘Master, you are a confessed assassin! If people are told that is what you do, how safe do you think your position here, in this house, would become? If anything ever happens to the Queen or her husband, where will people come looking? If a certain wealthy man dies suddenly, who will attract the blame?’

  I confess, this was an aspect of my position that had not occurred to me. Certainly, I had no desire to broadcast my new job to everyone, but it had not struck me that if it became common knowledge, then every single assault or murder could easily be placed at my own door. This had an instant effect on my bowels, and I was forced to lean against the wall, a hand pressed against my belly.

  ‘I cannot run risks, you understand,’ Humfrie continued with a brutal ruthlessness.

  ‘I … of course not, no.’

  ‘So, if news were to break out that you were an assassin, you would obviously seek to reassure people that you had nothing to do with such things.’

  ‘Well, I suppose.’ I stopped. Suddenly, the full impact of his words struck me. ‘No, I mean, of course not – by ’sblood, no, I’d never peach!’

  ‘Any man taken to the Tower will talk after a while. So before you could be arrested, I would be forced to take action,’ he continued, as relentless as a fox in a chicken yard. ‘I could not afford to risk that you might speak of me or Jen. So it would be a precautionary death. Performed with great reluctance.’

  ‘Yes, right … of course, no … I see. Um.’

  ‘So I may well have to remove the young lady. She could be a threat to us both.’

  ‘No, look, she is innocent in every way, I assure you.’

  ‘You give me your word?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘And if you discover reason to doubt her word, you will inform me?’

  ‘Yes, yes. I swear it.’

  ‘Good.’ He considered me a moment, and then spat into the palm of his hand and held it out.

  It was one of those old-fashioned oaths, clearly. At least he didn’t demand our oaths to be sealed in blood, I suppose. I spat into my hand and we shook on it.

  At last we could ask the women to rejoin us.

  ‘Where is he?’ I asked.

  The evening was coming on too swiftly already. Humfrie agreed to return in the morning, and I settled to enjoy an evening with Agnis. My plans did not accord with her own, sadly. She was much more keen to speak about the man Michol than I was, especially after Humfrie’s careful warning about her and her flapping mouth.

  I could begin to comprehend his concern now. She talked solidly, without concern for Raphe and anyone else who might be listening. Her speech was as unrestrained as her breasts, which moved so entrancingly as she drew breath. She was fascinating. A couple of times I attempted to sidle a little nearer to her, but every time I tried, she managed to evade me. In the end, although I can always handle my drink, I discovered that it was growing more difficult to speak and try to maintain her interest. You know that time when you first drink cider? Some men get fighty and stupid, but I found that I was fine, able to count, swear, laugh – everything. But after three pints of rough cider, when I tried to stand up, I toppled to the ground. It was as if my legs had been cut away. This was rather the same, except suddenly I found that my mouth also failed. I tried to stand and fell on my face immediately. With my mouth working, but nothing intelligible escaping me, I was confused and somewhat alarmed, but then Agnis put her arms down to me, and I was aware of a lustful surge running through my body. I tried to pull her on to me, but although my arms rose, I had no command over them.

  It was a curious sensation, to know that she was lifting me to a sitting position. Then
lovely Raphe appeared. Giving me a look in which disgust and amusement were equally mingled, he went behind me. He tried to put his arms about my chest to lift me, but my own shot upwards and I slid through to fall on my arse again. Although Raphe attempted to pick me up in this manner three times, each was as ineffective as the last, and eventually he released me entirely, standing at my side while, I confess, I giggled a little.

  ‘I can’t get him up,’ he said rather pathetically.

  He pushed and I was allowed to fall forward over my own lap, and then I felt two delicious cushions on my back. Agnis slipped her arms under my armpits and whispered breathily into my ear, ‘Cross your arms.’ She took my right wrist in her left hand, my left in her right, and hoisted me. In a few moments I found myself on top of my bench near the fire, a bucket by my head, and my head resting on her lap.

  ‘This is a lovely place,’ I said. Her bodice ballooned over me and I strained to reach it, but her hand slapped mine away.

  ‘More of that and you will be sleeping on the floor. Your floor will be less comfortable than mine.’

  ‘Can’t I just—’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You might find you—’

  ‘You want me to push you to the floor?’

  No, I did not. With the effects of the wine, the comfort of that delightful pillow beneath my head, and a mind wondrously clear of all terrors, I closed my eyes and was soon fast asleep.

  The following morning, I could think, I could reason, I could recall, and I could scare myself into fabulous terror at the thought that the Spanish were coming to get me any time soon.

  I also felt as sick as a dog, by the way. True fear can do that to me. When I get absolutely appalled with perfectly natural fears – such as those of having my cods cut from my body, seeing my fingers cut off, that sort of thing – I can become a gibbering wreck in moments. While I can be as courageous as the next man when I am in a moderately strong position, there is little better guaranteed to show me in a terrified funk than the thought of pain or death.

  Just now, of course, I had two main concerns. Ranked in order of seriousness, these were: what would the Spaniards do when I could tell them nothing (that I dared confess to) about the end of their friend; and what would Blount do, were he to discover that I had killed the wrong man? Possibly still worse, he might learn that I honestly could not stick a knife in a man with whom I had no quarrel. He would be certain to consider that a serious character defect, one that could have a severe impact on my own enjoyment of life … if only for a short period.

  However, it was not, of course, only the fear that was having this impact on me. In large part, it was due to the head from the wine the night before. But it did not seem to me that I had drunk so much. I recall some wine early in the evening, and perhaps a flagon or two with the meal, and perhaps another after our meal … but that was not so far from a man’s usual daily consumption. It was not as though I had mingled ales with wines and burned wines, which were usually my disaster of choice. And Agnis had joined me in some of the drinks, too, so I was not alone in my consumption. Still, the fact was that my head was not feeling normal this morning, and neither was my stomach. I could not look at the plate of eggs and greasy bacon that Raphe set before me with his own slightly green grin.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ I demanded, but quietly. My head was not of a mind to enjoy loud noises.

  ‘I feel a bit unwell. I will be fine,’ he added quickly, not wanting to give me a reason to expel him.

  ‘Well, see to it that your work is unimpeded,’ I said sternly.

  Glancing down at the trencher before me, I quickly averted my gaze and gave a firm smile to Agnis, who sat at the table next to me. She looked as beautiful and calm as a swan, I thought. When I had woken, I was alone on my bench, but she had kindly draped a couple of thick blankets over me, and I had not been chilled. I think she had also set a cushion beneath my head, but it was on the floor when I woke. It was a kind thought, however. And a woman who performs such kind little gestures must surely care for the man for whom she performs them, I thought. I tried to smile at her.

  ‘Is it very bad?’ she said.

  ‘No, not at all,’ I lied.

  She laughed aloud.

  There are times when you really have no interest in a man – when it seems as though every step you take, the fool appears to be underfoot and you spend your life tripping over the bastard. Other times, you can search high and low, and never catch a glimpse of the man you seek.

  This was one of the latter.

  First thing in the morning, Humfrie and his daughter appeared at the door, and we left my house soon after completing our breakfast, although we did have to stop for a while at an alley near Aldgate while I successfully deposited the greasy eggs and bacon into a corner. Humfrie looked disgusted, but it wasn’t my fault. I have never felt worse. Still, with the search ahead of me, I felt better for the loss of my excess baggage, as it were. Then we bent our steps to Michol’s stomping ground.

  We searched for him near his home; we hunted down near the docks where we were told he had been working; we haunted the alehouses and taverns nearby; we looked in the pie shops and inns; we visited every bowling alley; we dropped in to every legal, illegal and slightly suspect gambling hall and cockfighting ring. Desperate, I even thought to see if there was a duel being fought anywhere, but I was told that the last was finished for the day.

  Twice, I could have sworn – or at least, I thought – that I saw that other man again. A man with his face entirely concealed beneath a cowl, his body hidden in robes. It was unsettling. I began to wonder if this was a man sent by Blount to follow me, or a Spaniard, or … but there my imagination failed me. And each time I thought I saw him, when I peered more closely, there was no one there. Only the usual London mobs.

  Seeing me staring back, Humfrie glanced up at me. ‘Seen someone you know?’

  ‘No … no, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Then stop staring back like a woman searching for her lover!’

  In short, we found neither sight nor rumour of the man. It was infuriating.

  Humfrie, as the afternoon progressed, was growing more and more short-tempered. ‘It’s bad enough being paid nothing for all this effort, without wearing out my shoes.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jen declared. ‘It’s not our fault we can’t find him. You should promise us more money if you want our help.’

  ‘Why don’t you sell the necklace I bought you?’ I said nastily.

  Her hand went to her throat at that. I knew how much the capricious little noddy had liked that damned trinket. It was the reason Falkes had come to realize his wife was fondling another man’s cods, when the silly tart had worn it while out walking with him. Falkes was never forgiving or unsuspicious, and the sight of that necklace was enough to send him into a paroxysm of rage that nearly resulted in my death. As it was, Jen was very lucky not to have been chastised. I wonder whether that was because Falkes, even in his more homicidal moods, still wasn’t quite suicidal enough to try to attack Humfrie’s daughter. He knew from first hand just how deadly Humfrie truly was.

  ‘Now, now,’ Humfrie said soothingly. ‘We are all in need of refreshment, that’s all.’

  As luck would have it, we had reached the door of one of the meaner alehouses, a place we had already looked into that morning. Humfrie went inside, and we stood outside. The street’s kennel was full and somewhat dammed by turds, and I was idly watching a rat slink across the roadway to tuck in, when Humfrie appeared in the doorway. The rat scurried back whence it had come.

  Humfrie had ales in both hands and passed these to the women before returning inside. A short while later he brought two more and sat on a bench against the wall with every sign of satisfaction. ‘Here’s to the successful completion of our task,’ he said.

  ‘That’s all very good,’ I said. ‘What if we can’t find him? We can’t do what we need to if we don’t find him, can we?’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’
t worry about that,’ he said.

  ‘Wouldn’t you? Let me remind you that this whole affair is rather serious to me! If we don’t do what we need to, I will be in trouble with my master! This could cost me dearly: my clothes, my house, everything! I won’t be able to pass business on to you if that happens!’

  ‘Why would he do that to you?’ Humfrie said, tipping his pot back and drinking deeply before fixing me with a beady eye.

  ‘Because it matters to him! He doesn’t explain such things to me, though. He wants this blasted man removed, for reasons best known to himself.’

  ‘It is because the man is fomenting trouble,’ Agnis said. She looked around at us, although she stiffened when her eye lit upon Jen. ‘I overheard a part of a conversation, in which Master Blount spoke with a man who told him that this French agent seeks to weaken the Queen, and open affairs for Mary, Queen of Scots, to take the English throne.’

  ‘What?’ Humfrie said. ‘This bastard wants to sell us down the river so we become vassals of the French?’

  ‘How could that be?’ I asked, confused.

  Humfrie shook his head – whether at the perfidy of the French or at my obtuseness, I am not sure. ‘Mary, Queen of Scotland, was raised in France. She is French to all appearances, and she is engaged to the Dauphin. That is the French King’s heir.’

  ‘I know,’ I lied.

  ‘So, if the French could have their way, they would have her installed on the English throne as well as the Scottish one. She would swiftly be married to the King of France, uniting all three kingdoms: Scotland, England and France. That would make the French invincible against the Spanish. She would form an impenetrable barrier to Spanish ambitions. The Spanish empire would be split in half, with the Netherlands north of France, and the rest of the empire to the south. As things are now, ships can sail the English Channel, but if England was united with France, and both coasts guarded, it would be possible to block any transports or other shipping from navigating it, and the northern empire would be cut off completely.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’ I asked.

  ‘I listen to merchants,’ he said.