The King's Return: (Thomas Hill 3) (Thomas Hill Novels)

by Andrew Swanston

  It was a relief to get out of the Tower and back to Piccadilly. Just the thought of the miserable souls delivered by barge to the Traitors’ Gate, knowing that their next appointment would be with the executioner, was enough to make Thomas’s skin crawl. Two queens of England had been among them.

  Madeleine was sitting with Mary and Charles. ‘What news do you bring from the Tower?’ asked Charles. ‘Has Stoner confessed yet?’

  ‘To Quicksilver, he has. It was a fraud. No mine ever existed.’

  ‘I am a fool.’

  ‘Enough of that, Charles,’ said Mary sharply. ‘It’s over and done with. Has he confessed to anything else?’

  ‘Not yet. Joseph is giving him time to consider his position. And Morland has been arrested.’

  ‘Is there proof of his guilt?’ asked Madeleine.

  ‘Not proof, but a suggestion.’ Thomas told them about Molly. ‘I am to return this evening.’

  ‘Must you, Thomas? It is such a dreadful place.’

  ‘It is. I would much rather stay here, but Joseph has asked me to assist in the questioning.’

  ‘Could you not have refused?’

  ‘That would have been churlish. We might have Morland and Stoner, but the Dutchman is still at large. Not to mention the Alchemist, whoever he is.’

  There was a brief silence before Mary said brightly, ‘We will all take dinner together and there will be no mention of spies, money, traitors or anything else unpleasant. I will go and ask the cook for something special.’

  Something special turned out to be a huge venison stew flavoured with nutmeg and ginger, and a rich orange pudding. They washed it down with Charles’s best claret and a bottle of Madeira.

  Joseph was waiting for Thomas in the White Tower. ‘I have had Morland brought here,’ he told Thomas. ‘Let us see what he has to say.’ Morland was sent for and escorted in by two warders. He looked murderous.

  ‘Why am I here and how much longer have I to suffer this outrage, Williamson?’ thundered Morland. ‘You cannot hold me here without just cause and you know it. I demand to be released at once.’

  ‘This is a matter of national security, Morland, and you will remain here while we make our enquiries.’

  Morland glared at Thomas. ‘Why is this man here?’

  ‘He is rendering me valuable assistance. Now sit down and compose yourself.’ Morland, still glaring, sat down. ‘Good. We have detained Chandle Stoner, in whose house a fragment of paper bearing your name was found. He has confessed to being a criminal. How do you explain your name being on that paper?’

  ‘Show me the letter.’

  ‘I think not.’

  ‘Then I deny it. I barely know Chandle Stoner, but if he chooses to write about me, he would not be the first to do so.’

  ‘We also have a witness who has connected you to Stoner.’

  ‘Who?’

  Joseph ignored the question. ‘You and Stoner are members of a ring of spies centred on the Post Office.’

  Morland went bright red and spittle flew from his mouth. ‘Preposterous. What proof of this absurd accusation do you have?’

  ‘Let us say that based on the information we have, it is a reasonable inference.’

  ‘Inferences are never reasonable. They are merely inferences. Intuition is always inferior to rational thought, as even you should know.’

  ‘Have a care, Morland. Insults will get you nowhere.’

  ‘Outrageous. You hold me here for no reason and complain of being insulted. May I not complain of your lack of evidence against me?’

  ‘What do you know of Aurum and Argentum?’

  ‘My Latin is certainly superior to your own.’ Morland’s haughty tone had returned.

  ‘The Alchemist?’

  ‘Alchemy is not a practice in which I have faith.’

  ‘Lemuel Squire has claimed that certain letters given to you for copying disappeared. Why was that?’

  ‘I do not trust actors. They pretend to be what they are not. Furthermore, Squire is an absurd little man. The copying machine is not yet perfected. Mistakes are made. And as long as I am in here, there will be no improvement.’

  ‘Have you anything more to tell us, Morland?’

  ‘About what, pray? I am guilty of nothing and have nothing to tell you. I demand to be released immediately.’

  ‘Take him away, warder, and bring the other prisoner.’

  Shrugging off the warder’s attentions, Morland rose and stormed out of the room.

  ‘Arrogant and unpleasant, but guilty of treason?’ mused Williamson.

  ‘I’m unsure,’ replied Thomas. ‘His background is against him and he’s a hateful specimen, but we have only that scrap of paper and the woman’s word that she heard his name. There’s no real evidence. I couldn’t tell if he was lying.’

  ‘Nor I. Shall we talk to Stoner again?’

  Unlike Morland, Stoner looked thoroughly defeated. The Tower had taken no time at all to crush his spirit, as it had crushed so many spirits. His eyes were red and his hands shaking. For several minutes Joseph stared at him in silence. Eventually he said, ‘Our conditions are the same, Stoner. If you lie or if we suspect you of lying, you will go to the rack. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes. And if I tell the truth, have I your word that I shall be given safe passage to Denmark?’ Thomas heard the relief in his voice. The man was a craven coward.

  ‘Why Denmark?’

  ‘I have friends there. And I am willing to gather intelligence for you.’

  ‘You are prepared to work for me?’

  ‘I am. It is a simple business proposal.’

  ‘Your proposal is agreed,’ Joseph replied in a matter-of-fact way that made Thomas think he must receive this sort of offer every week. He turned to Thomas. ‘Would you care to continue? I shall sit and listen for lies.’

  Thomas tried not to sound surprised. ‘As you wish, Joseph.’ He paused. ‘What is the connection between Quicksilver and Aurum and Argentum, Stoner?’

  ‘Aurum and Argentum are the code names of two men involved in the plan for which the money from Quicksilver was intended.’

  ‘What plan?’

  Stoner smiled. ‘If you know about Aurum and Argentum, you know about the plan. Ever since the return of Charles Stuart, our Dutch friends have been talking to the French court. Both countries have reasons to act against England. The Dutch fear an English navy as powerful as their own and the French want a Catholic king on the English throne. An avowed Catholic, not a secret one. You are aware of that.’

  ‘So you are a traitor. Why?’

  ‘It has made me a wealthy man.’

  ‘Where is your money?’

  ‘In Copenhagen.’

  ‘Why were Smith, Babb, Winter and Copestick murdered?’

  ‘Babb was an old fool who threatened to expose Quicksilver.’

  ‘And the others?’

  ‘They had become dangerous. Winter and Smith in the city, Copestick in the Post Office.’

  ‘Who killed them?’

  ‘The Dutchman you met in Dartford. He bore a grudge.’

  ‘How do you know we met such a man?’

  ‘Of course I know. You did not kill him.’

  ‘Did you approve the murders?’

  Stoner shrugged. ‘I had no say in the matter.’

  ‘Why was Madeleine Stewart abducted?’

  ‘We wanted to know how much you had learned. In view of your close friendship with the lady, we assumed she might know.’

  ‘She did not know. And the ransom?’

  ‘A change of plan, necessitated by her sickness.’

  ‘Who are Aurum and Argentum?’

  ‘That I shall tell you when I have Mr Williamson’s written guarantee of my safety.’

  Williamson exploded. ‘You will not. You will tell us now. Remember where you are, Stoner.’

  But having unburdened himself, Stoner had recovered some of his composure. ‘No, sir. Your guarantee in return for Aurum and Argentum.’<
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  ‘You’re playing a dangerous game, Stoner. Your life is in my hands.’

  ‘I am aware of that. And the information you want is in mine. Have we an agreement?’

  ‘You will know in an hour. Take him back to his room, warden, and return here.’

  When they had gone, Thomas asked, ‘Do they always sing like song thrushes, Joseph? The man seemed ready to tell us almost anything. Except the identity of Aurum and Argentum, that is.’

  ‘It is very common. Stoical resistance followed by abject surrender. I have seen it often. The difference here is that he’s holding something back which he imagines will save his skin.’

  ‘Will it?’

  ‘It might.’

  An hour later, Joseph sent for Stoner again. ‘I have a pro posal,’ he began. ‘You will accept it or you will go to the rack. Which shall it be?’

  ‘It seems I have little choice. What do you propose?’

  ‘First, you will reveal the identities of Aurum and Argentum.’

  Stoner looked surprised. ‘That is agreed.’

  ‘There are other conditions. You will sign a letter to your banker in Copenhagen authorizing the release of all the money to my representative. I will have the letter delivered and the money distributed appropriately.’

  There was a slight hesitation. ‘Also agreed.’

  ‘You will tell us what you know about the Alchemist.’

  Stoner laughed. ‘I thought we would come to that. You will not be surprised to hear that I do not know the identity of this man.’

  ‘How did you communicate with him?’

  ‘Through Aurum. I know only that he lives in Amsterdam.’

  ‘Another Dutchman. How long have you been working for him?’

  ‘About a year.’

  ‘How did he contact you?’

  ‘Aurum.’

  Joseph nodded. He could not have expected more. ‘Very well. You will write the letter to your banker. When the money arrives from Copenhagen, you will be permitted to travel there on terms I shall lay down. Our friends in Copenhagen will ensure that those terms are met.’ Joseph paused. ‘You are Argentum.’ Stoner nodded. ‘Who is Aurum?’

  ‘Lemuel Squire is Aurum.’ Stoner spoke so quietly that Thomas wondered if he had misheard.

  ‘Squire?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Joseph was the first to recover. ‘Warder, lock this man up again and put a guard on the door.’ He swept out of the White Tower, across the courtyard, through the gate and into the waiting carriage. Thomas had to run to keep up with him.

  The journey to Cloak Lane was fast and dangerous. The coach tilted alarmingly as it took corners, bouncing over the cobbles and scattering angry pedestrians. On the way, Thomas asked about Morland.

  ‘He will stay there until we are sure we have not been tricked. The woman will be released,’ replied Joseph.

  Outside the Post Office, they leapt from the coach and charged in. ‘Where’s Squire?’ shouted Williamson. ‘Bring him here at once.’ Two guards disappeared into the building to find him. They returned empty-handed.

  ‘Mr Squire has sent a message to say that he is unwell,’ said one of them.

  Thomas turned on his heel and ran back out of the building. He was just in time to stop the coach from driving off. ‘Hold, man. We need you again,’ he yelled. The driver pulled on his reins and waited until both men had got in.

  ‘Where does he live?’ asked Thomas.

  ‘Near the Charterhouse.’

  ‘Charterhouse, driver, as quick as you can.’ The driver cracked his whip and called for a clear road. Thomas shut his eyes and tried not to be sick.

  Within ten minutes, they were in Charterhouse Street and outside a timber house of the type built some eighty years earlier. The upper storey overhung the lower, the windows were small and the roof was tiled. Joseph thumped on the door and demanded it be opened. When nothing happened, he tried the handle. It was locked. The door was oak and would not yield easily to force.

  ‘Break a window, Joseph,’ suggested Thomas, ‘and I’ll squeeze through it.’

  By this time a group of onlookers had assembled. ‘Keep those people back, driver,’ ordered Joseph. ‘We are about the king’s business.’ He picked up a stone lying in the street and broke a window. ‘Can you get through that, Thomas?’

  ‘I can try. If you would help me up, I’ll take it head first.’ Standing on Joseph’s locked hands, he pushed his arms through, shut his eyes and forced himself inside. Bits of broken glass showered the floor as he did so. He picked himself up and wiped blood from his hands. A key was hanging by the door. He unlocked the door and let Joseph in.

  It was obvious at once that this bird had also flown. The grate was cold, the remains of a meal had been left on a table and his desk was covered in papers. Unlike Stoner, Squire had left in too much of a hurry to burn the evidence.

  For a reason he could not explain, Thomas took Squire’s seal from the desk and slipped it into his pocket. He picked up a letter. It was short and written in a numerical code. He held it out to Joseph. ‘Look at this. What odds that this is the same code as in the Aurum and Argentum letter?’

  Joseph examined it. ‘Is it?’

  ‘The pattern is the same – groups of four one- and two-digit numbers. It might be.’

  ‘How long to be sure?’

  ‘No more than a few minutes, but I shall need my working papers.’

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘At the Carringtons’ house.’

  Another breakneck ride and they were in Piccadilly. Thomas ran up the stairs to his room and took a pile of papers from a drawer. When working on decryptions, he hated being rushed – it was all too easy to make a mistake – but this was different. He laid the letter on his table and found the sheet on which he had written the code. He knew at once that this was the same. The numbers for the letters A and R jumped off the page, swiftly followed by E, O, T and S. Without bothering to decipher the whole thing, he picked up both papers and ran back down the stairs. Joseph was waiting impatiently in the hall. ‘It’s the same code, no doubt at all.’

  ‘Proof enough that Stoner told us the truth. Squire is Aurum. I’ll send out a message at once. We may yet intercept him before he escapes the country.’

  Charles had heard their voices and emerged from the sitting room. ‘Joseph, Thomas. What’s going on?’

  ‘Aurum,’ replied Thomas. ‘It’s Squire. We have proof.’

  ‘Not Morland?’

  ‘Not Morland.’

  ‘Pity. Miserable fellow. Still, Stoner will hang, I imagine.’

  ‘I shouldn’t be at all surprised,’ said Joseph, ‘but perhaps not quite yet. I have plans for Mr Stoner.’

  ‘I’m sure you know best, Joseph, but remember he stole our money. I’d put the rope round his neck myself if I could.’

  ‘As would others,’ said Thomas. ‘Now what, Joseph?’

  ‘We will go through all the papers in Squire’s house. With luck we might find something useful. If there is anything encrypted, I will bring it to the Tower. Please finish decrypting the one you have and meet me there in two hours.’

  Thomas shook his head. ‘I’m in and out of that place so often they might as well give me a room there.’

  When Thomas returned to the Tower he found Joseph and Josiah waiting for him. He handed the decrypted text to Joseph, who read it aloud.

  ‘Our efforts continue but hampered by recent events. Post Office no longer secure. Will advise new means of delivery. Believe this cipher intact.’

  ‘So he does not know that you decrypted the letter, although of course he does know it was intercepted. What does he mean by “recent events”?’

  ‘Madeleine’s rescue, possibly, and the Dutchman’s escape.’ Joseph held up the paper. ‘The important thing is that the letter was never sent. Squire took fright and fled before he could finish it. He panicked when he heard Madeleine was safe, just as Stoner did.’ He looked around the room. ‘There are
spies everywhere. For all we know, there is one listening now.’

  If there is, thought Thomas, we are as good as doomed. Foreign agents in the Tower of London. God forbid.

  Joseph sent for Stoner. He came in looking smug. ‘I told you the truth, did I not?’

  Joseph ignored the question. ‘Where is Squire?’

  ‘If he is not at home or in Cloak Lane, I suggest you try all the best inns in London. He could be in any of them.’

  ‘I am not in the mood for levity, Stoner. Where is he?’

  ‘France, possibly. He likes French wine.’

  ‘Have I not made myself clear? I want to know where he is. If you choose not to tell us, our agreement will not be honoured and you will suffer.’ Joseph was furious.

  ‘I cannot tell you where Squire is any more than I can tell you who the Alchemist is. Give me a letter to my bankers and I will sign it. That is all I can do.’

  ‘The letter can wait. Take him back, warder, and bring the woman.’ Stoner was marched, protesting, back to his room.

  When the warder returned with Molly, she took one look at Josiah and spat out a stream of obscenities. ‘Not you again, you ’orrible little turd. I’ve told you what I know and I want to go ’ome.’

  ‘You are free to go. Mottershead will escort you,’ said Joseph.

  ‘And ’ome is where Mottershead is going to escort you, my dear. The only ’ome you’ve got now. ’Enrietta’s ’ouse. She will be pleased to see you.’

  ‘Fuck you, Mottershead. I don’t want to go back there. Just let me go.’

  ‘Can’t do that, Molly. These gentlemen want to be sure you’re in safe ’ands. Don’t want you walking the streets, do we? Come on now.’ Molly knew she had no choice and, still cursing, was led away by Josiah.

  ‘Poor wretch,’ said Thomas. ‘Not much of a life and a short one.’

  ‘There’s hundreds like her. If the pox doesn’t kill them, the hangman does. As soon as they’re too old to be whores, they have to steal. Sooner or later they get caught and end their days at Tyburn.’

  ‘Do you recall her talking about a visitor with a large backside?’

  ‘A big arse, I think she said.’

  ‘Quite. It might have been Squire.’