Frost Fair (38 page)

    'That's very true, Jonathan.' 'Leave him here awhile. He's not going anywhere.'

    They were let out of the prison and stood together in the swirling wind. Both men had to hold on to their hats to stop them from blowing away. Christopher told his friend about his second visit to Sir Humphrey Godden. The constable was intrigued.

    'Why did he and Mr Crenlowe fall out?' he wondered.

    'I wish I knew, Jonathan.'

    'Did you ask Sir Humphrey?'

    'He told me to mind my own business.'

    'He'd have used even stronger language to me,' said Jonathan with a chuckle. "There's no pleasure in standing in the cold, waiting for Captain Harvest to show up, but I think I'd prefer that to another talk with Sir Humphrey. He looks down on me.'

    'He may look up to you when he hears that you saved Henry's life.'

    'I doubt that. If he was involved in the murder, he could want someone to remove your brother. With the chief suspect dead, the case would be closed. The real killer, or killers, would have got away scot free.'

    'Not as long as I've breath in my body.'

    "That goes for me as well, sir.'

    'But you were so sure at the start that Henry was guilty.'

    Jonathan gave a penitential nod. 'I no longer feel that now, Mr Redmayne. We are pulling in the same direction now.'

    'That's a relief!' said Christopher. 'What will you do next?'

    'Bide my time until I can return to the Hope and Anchor this evening. If a certain person is still not there, I'll keep watch on that lodging again. What about you, sir?'

    'I need to go home.'

    'Your father will be horrified to hear about the attack on your brother.'

    'It may induce more sympathy in him for Henry,' he added, 'Father has been too harsh on him today. Also,' he added, 'I want to put Jacob's mind at rest.'

    'Your servant?'

    'Ever since I was cudgelled outside the stable, Jacob has patrolled the house with a dagger in his belt. He looks outside the front door every ten minutes. There's no call for that any more. Pietro Maldini is behind bars.'

    As soon as he saw his master's horse go past the window, Jacob leapt into action. Pulling the dagger from its sheath, he scurried out in time to watch Christopher dismount. Jacob swivelled his head so that he could scan Fetter Lane in both directions for any signs of danger. Christopher handed him the reins.

    'Put your weapon away, Jacob,' he said. 'The man will not strike again.'

    'How do you know?'

    'He's under lock and key in Newgate.'

    'Is he?' said the old man in astonishment. 'How did he get there?'

    'He took refuge in the prison out of fear of you,' teased Christopher. 'Stable the horse and I'll explain what happened. Is my father still here?'

    'No, sir. He's paying another visit to Bishop Henchman.'

    'I'll have news for him when he returns.'

    While Jacob led the horse to the stables, Christopher went into the house. After removing his coat and hat, he saw a letter waiting in the middle of the table. Snatching it up, he broke the seal and read the contents. His spirits soared. Written by Susan Cheever in a neat hand, the letter was short but explicit. Christopher was to present himself at a certain place and time on the following morning. No details were given but he required none. She had somehow contrived a meeting for him with Lady Patience Holcroft. He was so pleased that he kissed the letter with delight.

    When Jacob eventually joined him, Christopher was still holding the missive.

    'When did this come?' he asked.

    'About an hour ago, sir.'

    'Did Miss Cheever bring it herself?'

    'No, sir,' said Jacob. 'It was delivered by a man. He slipped it under the door.'

    'Have you any idea who he was?'

    'He did not stay long enough for me to find out, Mr Redmayne. Good news?'

    'The very best, Jacob,' said Christopher. "The very best.'

       Jonathan Bale waited until the children had been put to bed before he left the house. His wife gave him a parting kiss on the doorstep. She looked at the shipwright's garb that he was still wearing.

    "This is just like old times,' she said.

    'Not exactly,' he replied. 'I won't come back with the smell of pitch on me tonight, or with the sound of mallets still ringing in my ears.'

    'As long as you return safely, that's all I ask.'

    'I will, Sarah. Do not fear on my account.'

    He set off on the long walk to the Hope and Anchor, wishing that the wind was not quite so blustery nor the sky so black. There was plenty to occupy his mind. Now that he had come round to the view that Henry Redmayne was, after all, innocent of the crime, he had to find another culprit. The former Captain Harvest was a possible suspect but he schooled himself not to rush to judgement. While the man was clearly guilty of a number of offences, there was no direct proof that murder was one of them.

    When he reached the tavern, he popped his head inside but the man he was after was still not there. Jonathan adjourned to the tenement and spoke to the landlord, only to be told that Hannah Liggett had not been seen all day. Undeterred, he took up the vantage point that he has used on the previous evening and resigned himself to a long wait. In fact, his stay lasted less than an hour. He was still crouched in his hiding place when he felt a hard object strike him on the shoulder. It was a small stone and it was soon followed by another missile. Jonathan dodged behind the angle of a building for protection.

    There was no need for evasive action. His unseen assailant was already riding away on his horse. Jonathan recognised the mocking laugh of the man who had called himself Captain Harvest. He had obviously been warned about the constable. The vigil was decisively over.

       Any hopes that Mrs Cardinal had of being invited to join them soon faded. When the coach arrived next morning at the house in the Strand, she insisted on coming out with Susan Cheever so that she could exchange pleasantries with Lady Holcroft. Wearing her cloak and hat, Mrs Cardinal was ready for an outing.

    'May I ask where the two of you are going, Lady Holcroft?' she said as Susan clambered into the coach. 'I'm intrigued to find out.'

    'I offered to take Miss Cheever for a ride around the city.'

    'But you hardly spoke to her yesterday.'

    'Precisely,' said Lady Holcroft. 'That's why I wanted to spend time with her today. Goodbye, Mrs Cardinal.'

    'You make me feel very envious.'

    'I envy you that visit to the shops, Mrs Cardinal,' said Susan sweetly. 'Goodbye.'

    To the old woman's disgust, the whip cracked and the horses pulled the coach away from the house. She stamped back into the house to complain to her son. The two younger ladies, meanwhile, were driven along the Strand and into the much narrower confines of King Street. Though she had written the letter to Christopher, Susan had not been in a position to deliver it so Lady Holcroft had sent one of her footmen to Fetter Lane. She had stressed that the meeting should take place elsewhere. Accordingly, Susan had suggested the family house in Westminster.

    Lady Holcroft said nothing on the journey and Susan did not try to draw her into conversation. As they pulled up outside the house, however, Lady Holcroft flipped back her hood to look up at it with interest.

    "This is your home, Miss Cheever?' she asked.

    'When my father is in London.'

    'It's a beautiful house.'

    Susan swelled with pride. 'Mr Redmayne designed it for us.'

    When they went inside, Christopher was already waiting for them in the parlour. Susan could see from his eyes how grateful he was to her. She introduced them then swiftly withdrew to leave the pair alone. Lady Holcroft did not remove her cloak. She perched on the edge of a chair and waited. Christopher took a seat opposite.

    'Thank you so much for agreeing to see me, Lady Holcroft,' he said. 'I know how embarrassing this must be for you but it could be such a help to my brother.'

    'How is Henry?'

    'As well as can be expected.'

    Christopher was conscious of being weighed up. He could see that it would be fruitless to tell her about the attempt on his brother's life or about the privations he was suffering. Lady Holcroft was patently uneasy about her connection with Henry and with Jeronimo Maldini. She wanted her stay at the house to be as brief and painless as possible. Though her face was pinched and her eyes filled with suspicion, she was still beautiful and Christopher was bound to wonder what had attracted her to his brother.

    'Miss Cheever assures me that you are very discreet,' she said.

    'I am, Lady Holcroft.'

    'There's no need to explain the delicacy of my position. I could see from your letter that you understood it very well. It's the only reason that brought me here.'

    'I see.'

    'I did know your brother,' she confessed. 'His work at the Navy Office brought him into contact with Sir Ralph and that was how we became acquainted. I allowed his admiration to me to develop to a degree that was perhaps unwise. But it went no further than that,' she said quietly, 'and I wish to make that clear. Whatever Henry has told you, we did not - and could not - ever go beyond the bounds of simple friendship even though that friendship gave me, at the time, much joy.'

    'It was so with my brother, Lady Holcroft.'

    'I did not mean to hurt his feelings, Mr Redmayne.'

    'He attaches no blame to you,' said Christopher. 'He looked elsewhere to do that.'

    "Then he was mistaken in doing so.'

    'Oh?'

    'Our friendship had rim its course,' she said with a faint hint of irritation. 'The pleasure was waning, the risks seemed too great to take any more. When I explained this to Henry, he accepted it like a gentleman. That should have been an end to it. But,' she continued, pursing her lips, 'someone else came along soon afterwards and, for a number of reasons, that person aroused my curiosity.'

    'May I ask how you met him, Lady Holcroft?'

    'He was at Court one afternoon. His brother was one of the musicians there and he had been invited along to hear him. We met by chance,' she said, looking away, 'and that's all I'm prepared to tell you about it. Henry, I know, took a different view of it all.'

    'He felt that he had been dispossessed.'

    She flashed her eyes at him. 'He never possessed me, Mr Redmayne,' she said with controlled anger. 'He had no claim whatsoever upon me. I told him that a dozen times. He was nursing an illusion.'

    'Henry is rather prone to do that,' admitted Christopher. 'But illusions can exert a tremendous power. In my brother's case, it provoked an extreme hatred. Not of you, Lady Holcroft - that would be unthinkable - but of the other person we are talking about.'

    'Go on.'

    'It made the two of them sworn enemies. They were rivals for your affection.'

    'No!' she said sharply. 'What kind of person do you take me to be? I do not play one man off against another like that. Henry was never more than a friend and he ceased to be that. It was weeks before…' She broke off and took a deep breath. "This is very painful for me, Mr Redmayne. I hoped that these chapters in my life were closed. I'm afraid there's little I can add that may be of help to you.'

    'Answer me this,' he said. 'Do you believe that my brother is guilty of murder?'

    'I'd not be here if I believed that.'

    "Thank you, Lady Holcroft. That means so much to me.'

    'Henry would never hurt me deliberately,' she said, 'and I was deeply upset by that particular death. Even though my friendship with that gentleman had come to an end, I was stricken by the news. And I was even more distressed when your brother was arrested for the crime. He'd not do such a thing to me.' She lifted her chin with patrician pride. 'He'd not dare!'

    Christopher began rearranging questions in his mind. Lady Holcroft was not at all the helpless victim of an Italian lover that he had been led to expect. Nor did she requite his brother's love in the manner that Henry had implied. There was a hard edge to her. She would divulge nothing that would be of use to him unless she was sure that it did not compromise her. Yet he saw a potential weakness. She had something of a temper. If he could play on that, he might find out what he wanted to know.

    'Henry could not bear the way that his rival treated you, Lady Holcroft.'

    'They were not rivals,' she retorted. 'Not in the sense that you mean.'

    "They were, in Henry's imagination.'

    "That was always far too lively, Mr Redmayne. It was one of the things that persuaded me that our friendship had to end. Your brother, alas, began to make certain assumptions.'