The Amorous Nightingale (11 page)

    'Yes,
Henry.'

    'No.
You listened to what Will Chiffinch said. I'm a disregarded bystander here. My
opinion counts for nothing. When that hulking coachman told his tale, I was not
even allowed to ask him a question. They've gagged me.'

    'Remove
the gag.'

    'I
was treated like dirt.'

    'In
that case, only one remedy will suffice,' said Christopher. 'You must prove
them wrong, Henry. You must show that you're worthy of their respect and admiration.
And the best way to do that is to help me in this daunting task of finding
Harriet Gow.'

    'You
already have a partner in that enterprise.'

    'Do
I?'

    'Yes.
That plodding constable of yours, Mr Jonathan Bale. A stone-faced Puritan, if
ever I saw one. He'd arrest a man for simply
thinking
about pleasure,
let alone actually indulging in it.'

    'You're
being unfair to him. Mr Bale has fine qualities.'

    'I've
no use for them.'

    'Well,
I do, Henry. So does His Majesty. That's why he wants Mr Bale involved in this
business. We two can achieve much together, but there are things that would be
of enormous help to us. Things that only you could do.'

    Henry
jumped up from his chair. 'So that's all I am, is it?' he complained with
renewed bitterness. 'Not even a royal messenger any more - but a constable's
lackey!'

    'Of
course not.'

    'My
brother leads the search, Mr Bale blunders along in his footsteps, and there am
I, ignobly bringing up the rear.'

    'Nonsense!'
said Christopher, adopting a firmer tone. 'This is a matter of life and death,
Henry. Shake off your self-pity just for once and think about someone else.
Keep the image of Harriet Gow before your eyes,' he urged, 'imprisoned by
enemies. When I ask you to help us, I do so because I know how valuable your
contribution will be, every bit as valuable as the one that I or Mr Bale could
possibly make. We are equal partners here, all three of us.'

    'Oh
well, that's different,' said Henry, partially mollified.

    'You
are quite indispensable.'

    'Am
I?'

    'Yes,
Henry. Your assistance is critical. If we are successful, you will reap
corresponding rewards. Think how impressed His Majesty will be with you. How
much you'll astound Mr Chiffinch. And, most of all, what gratitude Harriet Gow
will heap upon you.'

    Henry
was convinced. 'I'm yours,' he volunteered readily. 'Just tell me what to do.'

    'First
of all, give me your impression of what we've so far heard.'

    'But
I could make neither head nor tail of it, Christopher.'

    'Go
through it again now. Search for the logic.'

    'Is
there any?' wondered his brother, scratching his head. 'Harriet Gow is
abducted. A ransom note is sent to the Palace. Five thousand pounds is demanded
for the safe return of the lady.'

    'That
sounds logical enough.'

    'Does
it? Then you are not acquainted with the royal finances. They are in a parlous
condition. His Majesty does not possess five hundred pounds, let alone five
thousand. Every time he wants the most paltry sum, he's forced to go cap in
hand to Parliament. There's simply no money to be had, Christopher. The Dutch
War has bankrupted us.'

    'But
hostilities are now at an end.'

    'Only
because we were forced to sue for peace. Don't remind me of it,' Henry groaned,
putting a palm to his brow. 'It was excruciating. But a few short months ago,
the Dutch not only broke through our defences in the Medway, they sailed on to
Chatham, sank three ships, towed away the
Royal Charles,
the pride of
our Navy, raided Sheppey and destroyed the fort at Sheerness. It was my
blackest day at the Navy Office. Crude as his metaphors always are, Sir William
Batten was right. The Devil shits Dutchmen. We were well and truly buried in
the ordure.'

    'Come
back to the ransom.'

    'There
is no way that His Majesty can pay it.'

    'Not
even when the life of a lady is at stake?'

    'Especially
then. It's one thing to beg money from Parliament for essential expenditure,
but they would turn a deaf ear to any requests concerning one of his mistresses.
Besides,' Henry observed, 'the terms of the ransom note were explicit. The
transaction is to be kept secret. How can that happen if the House of Commons
is involved?'

    'I
can see His Majesty's dilemma.'

    'It is
rather more complicated than that.'

    'I
know. There is the small matter of the Queen.'

    'Her
Majesty is the least of his worries. Other ladies bulk larger in his life than
she does. Lady Castlemaine is the worst of them, as grasping and greedy a woman
as ever clambered into the royal bed. A real viper when she is roused. Were it
not for the fact that she would be more likely to kill than ransom Harriet Gow,
I would not put it past her to be the author of this whole conspiracy.'

    'Now
we are getting somewhere!'

    'Are
we?'

    
'Cui
bono:
who stands to gain?'

    'Lady
Castlemaine would certainly gain from the removal of her chief rival, but she
is not the only one. His Majesty spreads his favours far and wide. There are a
number of ladies who would be heartily glad to have Harriet Gow removed from
her pinnacle.'

    'Make
a list of them, Henry.'

    'It
may be quite a long one.'

    'Every
name is important. We'll work our way through them. But there's another area we
must explore,' said Christopher, thinking it through as he circled the room.
'Her work at the theatre. Find out who her closest friends were. Ask when and
where they last saw Mrs Gow. Sound them out about any potential enemies she may
have. Oh, and above all else, speak to the manager.'

    'Tom
Killigrew?'

    'He
may give us valuable clues.'

    'He'll
be too busy tearing out his hair when he hears the news. Harriet Gow fills the
theatre for him. Without her, his business will go slack. I don't relish
passing on the bad tidings.'

    'Then
don't do so. Discretion is imperative here. Simply tell Mr Killigrew that Mrs
Gow is indisposed. That's all he needs to hear.'

    'When
hundreds of playgoers are banging on his door, demanding to know why she does
not appear on stage? What is the poor man to say? I must tell him
something,
Christopher.'

    'Explain
that she has been called away unexpectedly.'

    'By
the men who kidnapped her?'

    'No!'
exclaimed Christopher. 'Don't breathe a word on the subject. You read that
ransom note. Break silence and you imperil Mrs Gow.'

    'I'd
hate to do that.'

    'Then
be ruled by me.'

    'As
you wish.'

    'Start
with Mr Killigrew. See what you can learn from him. Then talk to anyone at the
theatre who was close to Mrs Gow. Do it carefully, Henry. Go armed and watch
your back.'

    'Why?'

    'Brutal
men are involved. You saw what they did to Roland the coachman. He was hired
for his strength yet they got the better of him.' He recalled the sight of the
battered servant. 'By the way, what did you make of the fellow?'

    'I
wouldn't care to bump into him on a dark night.'

    'Nor
I,' admitted Christopher. 'Trigg was a most unprepossessing character. Yet he
seemed to be devoted to Mrs Gow and she must have found him satisfactory to put
up with that ugly face of his. All that I'll venture is this: I'm grateful that
Roland Trigg is on our side in this affair. I sense that he'd make a formidable
enemy.'

    'We
may have enough of those, as it is.'

    'Try
to think who they might be, Henry. Rack your brains to tease out the names of
anyone with a grudge against Harriet

    Gow,
or a reason to wound His Majesty by abducting her. You know the murky world of
London far better than I do. Explore it to the full.'

    'I'll
do my best. Harriet Gow deserves nothing less.'

    'My
sentiments entirely.'

    'What
of you?'

    'I'm
off to look up an old acquaintance,' said Christopher, moving towards the door.
'Though I fear that he may not be overjoyed to see me again. Mr Jonathan Bale
looks upon the Restoration as a form of moral plague. What is a dour Puritan
like him going to make of the news that one of the King's mistresses has gone
astray?'

    'He'll
probably raise three cheers.'

    'It
could be a difficult conversation.'

    Christopher
heaved a sigh then let himself out of the room.

    Crime
was no respecter of a constable's leisure time. No sooner had Jonathan started
to read to his children from the family Bible that evening than he was summoned
by one of the watchmen to deal with a new crisis. A warehouse had been set
alight by a disgruntled apprentice. Although the blaze had been speedily
controlled and the miscreant detained, a secondary crime was in the offing.
Jonathan arrived on the scene in time to stop the owner of the warehouse from
inflicting grievous bodily harm on the apprentice, who now cowered in a corner
and pleaded for mercy. A combination of good-humoured firmness and diplomacy
was needed to rescue the arsonist from the clutches of his former employer.
Having hauled the young man in front of a magistrate, Jonathan took him off to
be placed in custody. He was free to return home again.

    Shadows
were lengthening when he finally reached Addle Hill. Wanting to rest after a long
day, he felt misgivings when he saw a horse tethered outside his front door.
Sarah's greeting only intensified his concern. As he stepped into the house,
her face was shining.

    'We
have a visitor, Jonathan,' she said with excitement.

    'Do
we?'

    'Mr
Redmayne.'

    'What
does he want?' grunted her husband.

    'You'll
have to ask him when he comes down.'

    'Comes
down?'

    'Yes,'
she said cheerily. 'Mr Redmayne very kindly offered to read to the boys. He has
such a lovely voice. I could listen to it all day.'

    'That's
more than I can do!'

    Jonathan
was about to start up the stairs to interrupt the reading when he saw
Christopher descending. The latter's polite wave gained only a brief
acknowledgement. Jonathan was suspicious.

    'What
have you been doing up there, sir?' he asked.

    'Reading
to them from the Book of Judges,' said Christopher, 'the story of Samson. They
seemed to like it at first.'

    'At
first?'

    'It
sent them both asleep.' He resorted to a whisper. 'I suggest that we keep our
voices down and continue this conversation elsewhere.'

    Jonathan
gave a signal to his wife then led his guest into the parlour. Sarah went
upstairs to check on her children. The constable was embarrassed and' annoyed,
uneasy at the thought of entertaining a gentleman in his humble dwelling and
irritated at the liberties his visitor had taken while he was there.

    'I'll
thank you to leave any reading to me,' he said huffily. 'They're my sons and I
give them a Bible story every night.'

    'So I
understand, Mr Bale, and I applaud you for it. But you were called away this
evening and both Oliver and Richard were desperate for someone to read to them.
I offered my services, Mrs Bale was only too happy to give me her permission.
The boys seemed happy, too - until they dozed off towards the end.'

    'I
don't want it to happen again, Mr Redmayne.'

    'Then
I'll respect that wish.'

    'Thank
you, sir.'