The Opening Night Murder (34 page)

She nodded. “I can’t say what sort of trial he had, but I can’t imagine it was fair at all.” More tears rose, and it became hard
to find her voice. “I would that it were myself rather than he, because you’re right. The crown would sooner hang a man than a woman.” She narrowed her eyes at Daniel. “Even a whore such as myself might languish for months, or even years, in prison before hanging. They would put an end to Piers at the very earliest opportunity.”

Daniel still struggled for words, and ultimately said nothing.

Suzanne pressed on, knowing he would flinch further at what she would say next. “Daniel, I think I’ve worked out the scenario. I’ve reason to believe William was on that roof because he was trying to assassinate the king.”

Daniel went from pale to flushed in an instant. Plainly what would come out of his mouth next would be a lie. “No, he was not.”

“I think he was.”

“The king was not there.”

“He certainly was, Daniel, and that is why William was there. He was terrified of being arrested by the crown. He thought his life would be over when Charles returned from the Continent. When he abandoned me, he told me he was fleeing the country, afraid the returning king would have his head on a spike. Then last spring he came to me again, ranting some nonsense about the crown being after him, and wanting to hide here in the theatre. It was madness, of course, and quite a lot of delusional self-importance, but he truly believed he was being hunted. He also believed Charles would ruin the country with his libertine thinking. He thought of French ideals as Catholic evil, and was terribly unhappy that the king didn’t expect people to continue to hide their mistresses in shame. I think he was mad enough to take action against Charles. William was insane enough and had enough
conviction to make right everything he deemed wrong by killing the king.”

“Then why go to the roof of the Globe?” The tension in Daniel’s voice betrayed his growing apprehension. “What has that place to do with Charles?”

“You and I both know that the king was one of the men with you on opening night.”

The long silence that followed told her she not only was right, but she had touched on something terribly delicate. Daniel was unhappy the king had been found out. Finally, he said, “I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”

“I’m not, and I wish you would stop saying that, for I know it’s true, you know it’s true, and I dislike being lied to. So many people are such liars, it shows no originality and I find it quite tedious. The king sat to your left. He was disguised and wearing a plain, old-fashioned outfit more suited to one of his Cavaliers than to a monarch. I’m guessing the suit he wore was yours. It may have been his own, but I doubt it.”

Daniel’s eyes flashed with anger, though Suzanne couldn’t imagine what she’d done to warrant it. She’d only told him what they both knew to be true. What any alert person might have known. His voice was low and tense. “How could William have known the king would be here?” So much for pretending Charles hadn’t been there, and Suzanne viewed that as progress.

“Surely William followed him.”

“Rather fanciful, I’d say.” Daniel’s tone derided her, which put Suzanne’s hackles up. It was a form of bullying she’d long ago learned to despise. “You have no reason to believe—”

“Oh, but I do.” She bit her tongue and didn’t call him a fool, but her tone probably conveyed it. “I saw him following the king in St. James’s Park that day we were there. I’m certain
it was William, lurking a short distance from Charles, for I saw him clear as day. He never saw me because he was so intent on watching the king. William was stalking Charles as if he were a hart.”

Daniel spoke slowly, carefully, as if trying to get across a simple concept to an idiot. “Again, your credibility as a witness is wanting. If what you just said is true, you should have pointed him out to me at the time. You’ve become so desperate, now even I am hard put to believe you.”

“I didn’t know at the time I was going to need corroboration of my word. And I take exception that I need it from you.”

“Alas, hindsight is too perfect.”

“Daniel, you’re not very much help.”

“Nonsense. I’m being quite a lot of help. I’m saving you from embarrassment and frustration, and possibly wrecking your own case when you rush over to see Constable Pepper in the morning and insist once more that your son is not a murderer. And let me add that if you try to tell him Charles was in the theatre that day, you will have a public statement from the crown that he was not.”

“Why would Charles lie?”

Daniel blinked in mock surprise. “Why, because he can, of course. And he’s very good at it. I often marvel at his skill in making things up. But there is also that he can’t have everyone in London knowing he likes to walk among them as a commoner whenever the mood strikes him. Besides leading to many false sightings, it would also make it impossible for him to do it ever again if the entire city were on the lookout for him. He values those outings. He believes them to be helpful in understanding his subjects so he might govern well. Or at least keep his head, as his father did not.”

“He values the outings more than he values the life of an innocent man?”

Daniel looked her straight in the eye and said with heavy regret, “Of course he does. As I just said,
he wishes to keep his own head
. Surely he values his own neck more than he does Piers’s. As he should, actually, for he is, after all, the king. There are few in the realm who would suggest our son’s life was worth more than Charles’s.”

Cold panic washed over Suzanne as she saw how little hope she had of freeing Piers with her proof that William’s death was an accident. Her voice would only come in a whisper. “But you’re a peer. Why would the king let your son hang? You’re of high enough rank to influence, and your word is valued.”

“Charles doesn’t know he’s my son.”

Suzanne fell silent, not daring to speak lest she say something ugly and irretrievable. The silence stretched like gut on a violin.

Finally Daniel added, “Charles has no reason to believe Piers didn’t do the murder.”

“I found the crossbow.”

Irritation rose, and Daniel’s voice was sharp with impatience. “You should have left it where you found it. Had you sent for Pepper and shown him the bow where it had lodged, you might have had a chance of convincing him you didn’t put it there yourself. But now the crossbow is just another one of your theatrical properties.”

“The blood…”

“The blood.” Daniel gave a slight, rather Continental shrug, as if to allow she had a point, but only a small one. “He might take that a little more seriously, but if he really wants a body to hang, he’ll discount it as sheep’s blood.”

“Arturo said—”

“Is Arturo here to give his story?”

“No.”

“Is he likely to be talked into coming back by morning to testify to Pepper?”

Suzanne sighed. “No.”

“Then anything Arturo said to you is worthless.”

Suzanne was silent, thinking hard and struggling not to cry. Finally she sat straight as a rod in her chair and said, “Your word could set Piers free.”

Daniel said nothing and fiddled with the fingers of his gloves as if he wanted to don them and leave. Suzanne waited.

Finally she asked, “Daniel, why won’t you ask the king to pardon him?”

“I don’t wield that sort of power.”

“You mean you don’t wish to squander your goodwill with Charles.”

“If that’s how you would put it, then yes. I have other concerns that require political coin, and haven’t any to spare.”

“How can you think that way? How can you toss your son to the lions?”

“My wife’s family would stand against me vigorously were I to go to Charles and ask for a pardon for my son. Even if I committed everything of myself to Piers’s cause, I would more than likely fail to save him. They would make certain of it.”

“And you the coward would let them. Shame on you! Shame on you for not protecting your flesh and blood! You are a coward, Daniel Stockton, and I’m ashamed to have ever thought otherwise!”

Daniel said nothing in argument, and his eyes betrayed his belief she was right. He said, “I’m afraid I can’t argue with that. I am a coward. And I am powerless to change the situation.
My brother-in-law carries a great deal of weight in Parliament, and Parliament has a nose ring on Charles. He depends on them for money.”

“And Piers is so unimportant to you that you will allow your wife’s family to use him for political purposes?”

“Nobody is using him, Suzanne. He’s simply landed in a bad spot and I am prevented from helping him because I am at the mercy of Anne and her brother. They don’t care for the fact that she is childless due to my long absence, and they especially don’t care for the fact that I have children by mistresses. And they only know about the daughters. Piers being the only male has sealed his fate. James would be ever so pleased to punish me with whatever he might use against me, particularly where his sister is concerned. He’s made my marriage impossible, and is breathing down my neck in Parliament. Anne wants retribution for her childlessness, and if she knew I had a son, she would like to see him dead because it would hurt me. James would give her that wish, and relish it.”

The countess had not struck her as the sort to be so vindictive, but Suzanne pressed her lips together to keep herself from saying so. It would not do to let Daniel know she’d gone to see Anne. Neither would it make a difference, since Daniel was certainly right about the brother.

She felt as if a band of steel were tightening around her chest. She couldn’t breathe, and was panicked to be free of it. She stood and went to the door, thinking she might leave, but instead turned and walked toward the door at the other side of the room. She stopped, unable to retreat to the inner rooms. There was no escape from the situation. “Daniel, I’ve got to do something!”

“There’s nothing you can do. Our hands are tied.”

“So easy for you to say! He’s your son, too! How is it so easy for you to give him up?”

He watched her pace for a moment, then said in a voice that had softened, “I never had him, Suze. He was never part of my life. He was always just yours, and you clung to him like a raft in a storm. For the rest of us, there’s no entering that magic circle. I realized it when we spoke that day at the Goat and Boar. I’d thought we might rekindle the old fire, but all you could talk about was Piers. All you ever talk about is Piers. There’s nothing of you left to know. Only Piers.

“And you seemed quite happy with that. It appeared to me that you could have gone on the rest of your life all wrapped up in him. In fact, I’m stunned you were able to bring yourself to send him away for an apprenticeship with Farthingworth. It must have killed you to let him go. I should have thought you’d keep him under your skirts until he was worthless for anything but petty theft. I must hand it to you; as a mother you’ve quite succeeded.”

That mollified her and took the edge off her panic, but only the fine edge. Was she that wrapped up in Piers? Was there really so little of herself apart from him? She couldn’t imagine a life without him. It seemed natural for every thought to be about him, to feed, clothe, teach, and protect her child. How could that ever be wrong? Furthermore, how could that have prevented a caring father from being a part of that life? What was so “magic” about the bond between mother and son that it couldn’t accommodate a father who wanted to know his son?

She turned to him. “You could have been his father. You could have been part of his life. You
should
have been.”

Daniel shook his head. “No, that was never possible. Anne and her brother would never have stood for it, and Charles needed me during the war.”

“Then it’s not our fault you didn’t know us. More than there being room for you, there was a gaping hole in our lives
where you should have been. We needed you far more than he did.”

“But my previous commitments took precedence. I had no choice in the matter.”

“Your wife is more important than we.”

“In many ways, she is. In other ways, not at all.”

She thought she might regret asking this, but curiosity made her do it. She folded her hands before her and braced herself to hear something she might rather not. “In what ways is it not true?”

He considered his reply for a moment, then said slowly, “You know ours was not a love match. I married Anne for her father’s influence. My own father believed an alliance with a Presbyterian family would be advantageous, regardless of his own loyalties and beliefs, given the religious climate at the time. Were he alive now, he would be shocked at how mistaken he was and how unyielding they can be. How
unaccommodating
.”

“You married a Presbyterian?”

“You didn’t know that? Her father converted when she was a little girl, and I was unable to convince her to convert back to the English Church after our marriage. Nor would she even budge after her father’s death. Her brother was raised Presbyterian, but is as zealous as a convert and as hardheaded and straitlaced as any pastor in the Marches. There’s no talking to him once he’s made up his mind, and he hates me for my illegitimate children as much as Anne does. Perhaps more, for he views it as a sin and she sees it only as a personal insult. They wish to punish me for my daughters’ existence, and would ruin me if they knew of Piers.”

Icy cold crept up Suzanne’s spine as she realized the true meaning of his words. Her voice shook as she said, “So you
would see Piers dead. That’s why you won’t take his case to the king.”

Daniel’s eyes went wide. “No!”

“You do want him dead. He’s an inconvenience, and you want him dead for fear of your wife and her brother. So you can become a proper Presbyterian toady, so holy and free of…sin!”

He stood, and his voice rose, desperate to convince her. “No, Suzanne! Don’t think that!”

She went to stand toe-to-toe, her face upturned and her own voice as strident. “It’s true. You can deny it all you like, but what you’ve just told me is exactly that but coated to appear as if you have nothing to do with our fate, and no responsibility toward your son.”