The Devil's Apprentice (28 page)

‘Who does not?’

‘An apt question, sir.’

‘Has the bellicose Christian been making threats against Nick?’

‘Worse than that, I fear.’

‘Oh?’

‘He’s gone strangely quiet.’

‘Then perhaps God has taken pity on us all and whisked him up to heaven before his time. Is this all your news?’ teased Firethorn. ‘A noisy Puritan has been silenced?’

‘Two noisy Puritans, Master Firethorn.’

‘Two?’

‘The other one’s name is Isaac Upchard.’

‘The very same rogue who tried to serve us charred
horse meat for breakfast. Nick caught him setting alight the stables then captured him later in the day. You can forget about Upchard,’ Firethorn assured him. ‘He’s languishing in a cell and wishing he’d never heard of Westfield’s Men.’

‘But that’s the whole point, sir,’ said the vicar. ‘He isn’t.’

‘You mean that he’s
glad
we happened to cross his path?’

‘Far from it, Master Firethorn.’

‘Your words confuse me, sir. Could you try them in English, please?’

‘Isaac Upchard is languishing in a cell no longer,’ declared Dyment. ‘That’s why I had to warn Nicholas Bracewell. The prisoner has escaped and he was last heard vowing to get his revenge on your book holder.’

‘The devil take him!’

‘The constable thinks that Master Orr may have devised the escape but there’s no proof of that. When the prisoner slipped out of his cell, the constable was fast asleep.’

Firethorn was scathing. ‘Are such imbeciles ever truly awake?’

‘He’s begun a search for the fugitive.’

‘What comfort is that supposed to bring?’

‘None, sir. I share your dismay.’

‘Rural constables are as much use as a hole in the road.’

‘Officers of the law are difficult to find.’

‘This one should have been left where he is. I’m surprised the oaf didn’t give the prisoner the key to his cell before he went off to sleep. Are there no clues? Is there no indication of where Isaac Upchard went?’

‘He’s disappeared into thin air.’

‘What of Reginald Orr?’

‘He, too, has vanished from sight. It’s deeply troubling.’

‘Yes,’ said Firethorn with a worried frown. ‘Thank you for coming to warn us. Nick should certainly be told but I’ve no idea where he is. Luckily, he has Owen Elias at his side. They make a formidable pair when armed.’

‘My fear is that Upchard may somehow waylay them.’

‘He’ll be no match for either of them.’

‘Don’t be fooled by Puritan garb,’ said the vicar.

‘It always makes me laugh.’

‘Before he was converted to his peculiar faith, Isaac Upchard was a soldier who fought in Holland. He’s been trained to fight, Master Firethorn. That’s why I was so eager to raise the alarm. Nicholas Bracewell must be alerted,’ he stressed. ‘Upchard is a dangerous enemy, skilled in the use of sword, dagger and musket.’

Firethorn started. Taking the vicar by the shoulders, he pulled him close.

‘Did you mention the word “musket”?’ he said.

‘What sort of a woman is Mother Pigbone?’ asked Owen Elias. ‘Motherly or pig-like?’

‘A little of both,’ said Nicholas.

‘I’ll play on her emotions and charm the truth out of her.’

‘Not even
your
skills could charm this lady, Owen. Mother Pigbone is no tavern wench with a bright smile. She’s more seasoned in the ways of the world.’

‘Why, so am I, Nick.’

‘It may not be a meeting of minds.’

Elias grinned lecherously. ‘Who cares about minds?
She’s a woman, isn’t she? That’s all I need to know.’

‘Not quite,’ said Nicholas. ‘Beware of Beelzebub.’

‘Is that the black boar you told me about?’

‘He’s very fond of Welsh beef. If you value your legs, keep clear of him.’

After leaving Holly Lodge, they headed in the direction of Stapleford. Nicholas was anxious to speak to Mother Pigbone again, to probe the nature of her relationship with Doctor Winche and to find out for certain if she had sold poison to someone earlier in the week. It was not a reunion he looked forward to with any pleasure. Elias offered to spare him the ordeal altogether.

‘Let me go alone, Nick,’ he volunteered.

‘Why?’

‘Where a gentleman like you failed, a roisterer like me might succeed.’

‘But I didn’t fail, Owen. I touched her on some raw spots, that’s all. Before I could elicit the truth from her, she turned Beelzebub loose on me.’

‘He can’t be any more frightening than Lawrence Firethorn on the rampage.’

Nicholas smiled. ‘There are similarities, I grant you.’

They caught the first whiff of Mother Pigbone’s lair when they were almost fifty yards away and its pungency steadily intensified. Loud grunting noises showed that Beelzebub was aware of their approach. When they reached the house, Mother Pigbone ambled out to size them up, combining surprise and disgust when she saw Nicholas.

‘You dare to come back, sir?’ she sneered.

‘Nick enjoyed his own visit so much,’ said Elias,
dismounting and doffing his hat to her with a flourish. ‘And I can see why, Mother Pigbone. I’m delighted to meet you. My name is Owen Elias, actor with Westfield’s Men.’

‘Then go back to them.’

‘Will you not invite us in?’

‘No, sir,’ she said. ‘Leave while you can or I’ll set Beelzebub on you.’

Elias raised the musket. ‘Please do,’ he challenged. ‘He won’t be the first boar I’ve shot dead. Go on, Mother Pigbone. Let him out and you’ll be able to dine off pork for a month.’

She wilted. ‘What do you want?’ she asked, backing away.

‘Some honest answers for a change.’

‘I won’t speak to you, sir.’

‘Then talk to Nicholas instead,’ said Elias, pretending to aim the musket at her. ‘And be sure to tell the truth or my finger may slip on the trigger.’

‘There’s no need to threaten Mother Pigbone,’ said Nicholas, touching the barrel of the musket to lower it. ‘I’m sure that she understands the seriousness of the situation. All that I wish to do is to put two very simple questions to her.’

‘What are they?’ grunted the old woman.

‘You’ve heard them both before.’

‘Shall I jog her memory, Nick?’ asked Elias.

‘No, no. Mother Pigbone will oblige me in time. She’s an intelligent woman. She’d much rather talk to me here than face the same questions in front of Sir Michael Greenleaf when he dons his robe as a Justice of the Peace. Which is
it to be?’ he asked, dismounting to stroll across to her. ‘A polite conversation here at your home or a more thorough examination by a lawyer?’

‘I’ve done nothing!’ she protested.

‘Apart from setting that wild beast on Nick,’ said Elias.

‘Beelzebub is not wild.’

‘I wouldn’t let him curl up in
my
lap.’

‘Leave this to me, Owen,’ said Nicholas. ‘Mother Pigbone knows the law. I fancy she’s had many brushes with it over the years. She’s aware of the penalty for withholding evidence. Aren’t you, Mother Pigbone?’

She glared at him, transferred her hostility to Elias then looked towards the sty.

‘Ask your questions,’ she said at length.

‘What sort of dealings do you have with Doctor Winche?’

‘I sell him a potion or two.’

‘To kill or cure?’

‘To cure,’ she said defiantly. ‘That’s where my skill lies. Whatever they may say about me, I’m no witch. I don’t cast spells. But I know the trick of lifting them. That’s why I was able to give a voice back to your friend,’ she boasted, hands on hips. ‘Doctor Winche had no medicine for that complaint. I did. That’s why he turned to me.’

‘Does he often turn to you?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘He has no need.’

‘But other people come in search of remedies?’

‘It’s how I live.’

‘Are any of these people bewitched?’ asked Nicholas.

‘They believe they are and that amounts to the same thing.’

‘Why do they call you Mother Pigbone?’

Elias wrinkled his nose. ‘I can tell you that, Nick.’

‘Let’s talk about the poison.’

‘What poison?’ she said.

Nicholas met her gaze. ‘The one that Sir Michael Greenleaf will ask you about if you come before him in court. If you’d rather discuss it under oath, you can. But a lawyer will be more ruthless than I am and squeeze you hard until the truth comes out of you like pips from an orange.’ He gave a cold smile. ‘Do you understand, Mother Pigbone?’

There was a long pause. ‘I may have sold poisons in the past.’

‘To whom?’ mocked Elias. ‘Bored wives who want to kill off their husbands?’

‘To people who want to get rid of vermin.’

‘I know a few husbands who’d fit that description.’

‘This is no place for levity, Owen,’ scolded Nicholas. ‘A man’s life was taken against his will. The least that we can do is to find out why. Do you want his widow to go to his funeral thinking that he simply had a heart attack?’ His eyes flicked back to Mother Pigbone. ‘When was the last time you sold a poison?’

‘Some time ago.’

‘This week? Last week? Be more precise.’

‘I can’t be.’

‘Then you’d better come with us,’ he said brusquely. ‘This crime took place under Sir Michael’s own roof so he’s
more than willing to issue a warrant for your arrest. Lock up your house, Mother Pigbone,’ he ordered. ‘You may be away for some time.’

‘No!’ she cried.

‘I’ve tired of your lies. Come on.’

‘Wait!’ She pushed away his hand as he tried to reach out for her. ‘If I tell you what I know, will you go away?’

‘Yes,’ said Elias, ‘before we die of the stink.’

Nicholas held his ground. ‘I’ll tolerate no more evasion. We’re talking about murder here, Mother Pigbone. If you deliberately provided the poison to kill Master Robert Partridge, then you’re an accessory.’

‘I didn’t, I didn’t!’ she yelled. ‘I swear it.’

‘Then what did you do?’

She hung her head. ‘Supply a compound to a gentleman.’

‘For what purpose?’

‘To kill off rats, he said. Or I’d not have sold it to him.’

‘When was this?’

‘Two days ago.’

‘What was the man’s name?’

‘I don’t know, sir. I’ve never seen him before.’

‘Have you any idea where he lives?’

‘None whatsoever. Spare me, please,’ she begged, taking his arm. ‘You know everything now. He bought what I sell. That’s all there is to it. I didn’t even get a proper look at the man because he kept his hat pulled down over his face.’

Nicholas stepped back. They had learnt all that they were going to from Mother Pigbone. After issuing a stern warning that they might return, he rode off with Elias. When they
were well out of her earshot, Nicholas turned his friend.

‘You threatened to shoot her boar,’ he said.

‘I had to, Nick.’

‘But that musket is broken.’

‘
We
know that but Mother Pigbone didn’t.’

‘What would you have done if she’d set Beelzebub on to you?’

‘Run like hell,’ confessed Elias with a laugh. He became serious. ‘You really scared her with that talk about a warrant for her arrest. It forced the truth out of her.’

‘Part of the truth, Owen. My guess is that she and Doctor Winche work more closely than she was ready to admit. Why a doctor should fall back on the remedies of a wise woman I don’t know but there’s some connection between them.’

‘Do you think it was the doctor who bought that poison?’

‘No, it was a stranger. I believed Mother Pigbone on that score.’

‘Was it the same poison that killed Master Partridge?’

‘In all probability.’

‘Then why did Doctor Winche say the man died of a heart attack?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Nicholas thoughtfully. ‘The answer may lie in this odd friendship he has with Mother Pigbone.’

‘Do you remember what he said when he brought that potion for Lawrence?’

‘Yes, Owen.’

‘The doctor said it came from the house of last resort.’

‘Mother Pigbone.’

‘I wouldn’t touch any of her foul concoctions.’

‘Don’t disparage them, Owen. She helped to bring back a lost voice.’

‘Yes, but she silenced another one for ever.’

‘Not deliberately,’ said Nicholas. ‘I think that Mother Pigbone sold that poison in good faith to get rid of vermin. She didn’t know how it would be used.’

‘Didn’t know and didn’t care.’

‘Oh, I think she cared a great deal. If it was used to kill a human being, it could easily be tracked back to her. Mother Pigbone wouldn’t want that. But what really puzzles me is why Doctor Winche didn’t recognise the signs of poisoning when he examined the dead body.’

‘He must be incompetent.’

‘No,’ decided Nicholas, ‘there’s another explanation, I feel. Could it be, in some obscure way, that he was trying to protect Mother Pigbone?’

‘Why should he do that?’

‘It’s one of many things we need to find out, Owen. But we mustn’t lose sight of our main task. Hunting for muskets and searching for a source of poison are important, I know, but there’s another mystery to solve first.’

‘Yes,’ said Elias with a sigh. ‘Where is Davy Stratton?’

When he heard footsteps on the staircase, he dived swiftly back into his hiding place beneath the bed. Davy Stratton waited with apprehension. Discovery would be a disaster for him. When the latch was lifted, he closed his eyes tightly and prayed that nobody would look under the bed. His fears were imaginary. The visitor did not even come into the room. Something was pushed hastily inside before the door
was shut again and the footsteps retreated. Davy relaxed. When he opened his eyes again, he saw something that made him crawl out of his refuge at once. Bread and cheese were lying on a wooden platter. Snatching it up, he sat on the bed and began to eat his first meal of the day. It tasted good. Davy was content. He felt wanted.

Sir Michael Greenleaf was poring over a table in his laboratory when his visitor arrived.

‘Ah, come in, Doctor Winche,’ said the old man. ‘You find me, as ever, trying to explore the farthest horizons of science.’

‘What are you working on now, Sir Michael? Your new gunpowder?’

‘No, dear fellow. My mind is turning to the manufacture of more peaceful substances. I’m trying to create a liquid that burns brighter than any candle yet lasts much longer.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘I intend to fill Silvermere with light.’