A Murderous Affair, page 32
Chapter 29
“A person's fears are lighter when the danger is at hand.’
(Lucius Annaeus Seneca)
As I shrank back into the shadows, keeping a fixed eye on the group of men on the dock, a dozen sailors appeared on the deck of the Lady Merrydance. Vaillons began to issue them with instructions and the men started carrying sacks from the Lady Merrydance and depositing them onto a smaller ship that was moored alongside. Having discarded one cargo, they collected another from the smaller ship and carried it back to the Lady Merrydance. While this was happening, Hardwick, Ingram and his two lackeys boarded the ship.
The men on the dock went about their work efficiently. Very little was said, just the occasional grunt of acknowledgement, as each made frequent trips back and forth between the two boats. Only once was there a break in the rhythm when two men collided. A sack destined for the smaller ship fell open on the dock and its contents scattered – exotic leaves with a distinct smell that quickly filled the cold air – tobacco. That answered one question of what Hardwick was smuggling in to the country, but what was in the sacks going the other way?
I had backed away, until I was hidden from view between a couple of large crates. Pressed against the edge of the dock, I could see icy sheets on the surface of the water lapping against the wooden supports. I watched closely, waiting for an opportunity. Eventually it came.
Vaillons, satisfied that everything was running smoothly, went to join the others in the warmth of the galley. I unbuckled my belt, slipped off my doublet, so that I was only wearing a shirt like most of the sailors, pulled my cap low down over my eyes and moved stealthily into the line to collect a sack from the smaller boat. There was enough commotion on the dock to conceal where I had come from and none of the men seemed to notice an interloper sidling in amongst them.
I reached out for a sack, heaved the heavy weight onto my shoulder to hide my face, and set off after the man in front. Before I knew it, I was up on the deck of the Lady Merrydance, brushing closely past Scarface and Grayson, before clambering heavily into the depths of the ship, where I simply followed the man in front and dumped the sack onto a pile. There were no further goods to take up, so I gave the man I’d been following a few seconds to get ahead of me and then scrambled across the sacks to the other end, where I was hidden again. So far so good.
I had tried to time my move to coincide with the end of the unloading and luckily this proved to be the case. After a few more sacks were dumped on the pile, the deliveries stopped coming and I was left alone with only a low, yellow torchlight for company and the leisurely creaking of the ship’s timbers as she lolled gently in the harbour.
I quickly opened one of the sacks with my knife and was intrigued to discover a stash of wool. I sat back on my heels, thinking about this discovery. There were very strict laws governing the export of woollen cloths. In particular, it was illegal to adulterate wool with lesser materials, which reduced the quality of the cloth and caused the clothes they became to shrink when washed – the usual suspects were either chalk, hair or yarn. The authorities were particularly keen to protect the wool trade from complaints from abroad, which could potentially damage the English market. If Hardwick was smuggling inferior wool across the channel, and what other explanation could there be for this late night activity, it was a serious crime. Tobacco coming in and wool going out. It appeared as though Hardwick and his associates had a very lucrative operation running.
I examined the cloths closely. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but a vague knowledge of wool – my father’s estate had survived on sheep after all – combined with a gut feeling, left me feeling fairly certain that these were of an inferior quality. I cut into more sacks until I found what I was looking for – sleeveless woollen jackets. I slipped one on – at least I would be able to get this examined in London, and for the time being I was glad of the warmth.
* * *
The cargo hold was towards the bow of the ship, three flights of stairs below the main deck. I moved to the back of the cramped space and began cautiously to search out the stern of the ship. I wanted to get as close as possible to the captain’s deck and the meeting that was taking place there.
The only sailors I encountered on the lower levels were either asleep in bunks or hunched over cards and dice, although I could also hear the muffled sound of someone strangling a violin. There was barely any light on the lower desks and it was easy, although nerve-racking, to pass unnoticed. Nobody spoke to me or challenged me, and I had the curious sensation of being a ghost.
I eased out of the hatchway onto the main deck and was relieved to see no sign of Grayson or Scarface. At the very rear of the ship, I could hear voices coming from the captain’s quarters. I stepped through a small curved doorway into the narrow atrium. There was light spilling out beneath the door and I carefully put my eye to the keyhole.
I could just about gauge the situation in the room. On one side, Hardwick was pacing up and down. At the end of the table, facing towards me and with his back to the wide galley window, sat Simon Turney. He looked somewhat beleaguered, his head resting on his hands. Just behind him stood Dakers, watching the proceedings with a cold impartiality. Although, I couldn’t see him, Ingram must have been sitting to the left of the table because Hardwick was addressing him. It took me a while to understand the gist of the conversation before I realised with a start that they were talking about me.
‘This man was at De Sousa’s warehouse. What the hell was he doing there?’
‘Sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted.’
‘And you let him escape?’ More of an accusation than a question. ‘If I ever catch some busybody meddling in my affairs he will rue the day he was born.’
‘He had help,’ Ingram said, sounding defensive. ‘A boat was waiting for him behind the dock. There was nothing my men could do once he had gone into the river.’
‘Shame he didn’t drown. Whose idea was it to go the warehouse in the first place?’
‘Our man in the house suggested it. He knew of Don Alphonse’s death and thought it a good way of increasing the suspicion in a certain direction.’
‘Turney, tell us again about the man who came to the ship before you departed.’ Dakers spoke from his position in the corner, his voice sounding like a cat purring. Turney turned to him with a pained expression on his face.
‘I told you. The German, Würtembatter, ran frantically on board to tell me that an agent of Walsingham was approaching but, after all that, he didn’t seem to be interested in the ship. He was just asking questions about De Sousa – that was all. There was nothing I could help him with. I didn’t even know Don Alphonse was dead, God rest his soul.’
‘And you’re sure he was an agent of Walsingham?’
‘He said he was, and Würtembatter said he produced a letter from Walsingham when they were on the tilt boat together. That’s why I sailed.’ A thought suddenly struck him. ‘That’s right, I remember now, he also said he was Rokesby’s brother and he was investigating Don Alphonse’s murder.’
‘Rokesby’s brother?’ Hardwick sounded as though he was likely to lose his temper at any moment.
‘Yes. Frankly, I barely gave it another thought – there didn’t seem to be a connection.’
‘Of course there’s a connection, you damned fool.’ Hardwick’s fuse had finally been lit.
‘What I want to know is the name of this man who interrogated you on the ship.’ Dakers was remaining far calmer than the others.
‘He didn’t tell me his name.’
‘And you didn’t think to ask him?’ Hardwick was rapidly losing all sense of perspective.
‘Who was it who murdered Don Alphonse? Someone who had a very good reason, I should say.’ Turney had finally risen to the bait and made this point markedly at Hardwick.
‘Damn your eyes man, what are you suggesting?’ Hardwick moved threateningly towards Turney, who started to back off. It looked as though it was going to turn ugly. I had to repress a chuckle.
Dakers stepped forward in a calming manner. ‘Let’s not change the subject. Can you at least describe him, Turney?’
‘Youngish – early twenties, brown, curly hair, not much of a beard to speak of.’
‘Ingram, does that description match?’
‘It could be the same man who was on the roof of the warehouse.’
‘And it could also be the same man who has been working as our clerk for the last few days – supposedly a kinsman of Walsingham’s.’
It took a moment, but Hardwick suddenly grasped what Dakers was getting at.
‘What are you saying Dakers? That Walsingham has sent a spy to my house? He wouldn’t dare.’
‘I am merely trying to ascertain the facts, my Lord. If Lovat is the same man who went aboard this ship in Deptford before she sailed, and was also at the warehouse, then it is more than a coincidence that he has turned up at Stavening.
‘What are you saying? That young upstart was at the warehouse and at Deptford? I don’t believe it.’ But he sounded as if he was certainly coming round to that point of view.
‘It is a possibility that we can’t ignore. If Lovat is the same man, and if he is working for Walsingham, then he has got a damn sight closer to us than I for one feel comfortable with.’
‘He won’t know anything about the cargo. He can’t.’ Hardwick sounded as though he was trying to convince himself.
‘We need to find out.’
‘Ingram. Take your men and get back to Stavening. Rouse Lovat and bring him to my study. We’ll follow on directly. If he’s been making a monkey out of me then he will sorely regret it.’
‘Right away, your Lordship.’ As he said this, I heard the sound of Ingram’s chair scraping backwards as he stood up. I moved swiftly out of the corridor and back along the deck. To my dismay, I could see the shadows of two men about ten feet away leaning over the deck of the boat with their backs to me – Grayson and Scarface. I heard the cabin door open behind me. My only escape was the same staircase I had come up from, leading to below decks. There was no choice. Just as Ingram’s feet appeared on the deck, my head was disappearing through the hatch beneath them.
I crouched in a dark corner and heard Ingram call out to his men. A few seconds later, to my dismay, I heard footsteps approaching the stairs and saw a shadow filling the entrance. There was nothing for it but to creep further down into the bowels if the ship.
After groping in a panic down another set of stairs, my eyes became adjusted to a low light along a passageway ahead. I was in a different part of the ship than before. All I could hear was the rumbling of low voices speaking quietly in the distance. I stood transfixed, pondering my next move, when a hand suddenly shot out and grabbed my arm.
‘Herr Lovat? Herr Lovat, mein Gott I must be seeing things. Can it really be you?’ The hand that had grabbed me was flabby and damp and belonged to none other than Karl Würtembatter. He had been lying prone on a bunk in a cramped section, that he seemed to have all to himself, but now he pushed himself upright and gripped me by the shoulders. He still wore the same flamboyant clothes but they appeared to have endured some severe wear and tear since the last time we had met. There was no sign of the feathered hat.
‘Herr Lovat! I am overjoyed to see you. You must helfen me. I am a prisoner on this ship. We all are.’ Raising his voice in his excitement, Würtembatter, looking as excited as a child that had just discovered marzipan, couldn’t help spluttering in my face as he spoke. His features were still as fleshy as before but in the dim light of the deck I could sense a new seediness about them, which hadn’t been there that day on the Thames.
‘For goodness sake, quieten down man,’ I whispered, releasing myself from his grip and wiping a hand across my face. His breath no longer smelt of sour damsons – now it was something far, far worse. ‘No one must know I’m on board.’ I put my finger to my lips and opened my eyes wide as I said it, to exaggerate the notion of secrecy. The idea seemed to slowly dawn on Würtembatter, who nodded at me uncertainly.
‘You come to rescue us, yah?’
I took a moment to look along the clammy corridor of the deck. Voices were still murmuring in the distance and no one seemed to have been alarmed by Würtembatter’s outburst. I motioned him to lie back and I slipped under his hammock, so that the corridor was free if anyone wanted to pass. Propping myself up, so our heads were as close as possible, I began whispering questions to him.
‘Tell me all you can about the voyage but keep your voice down.’ Würtembatter turned so that he could whisper down to me, his large frame rocking the canopy so that the ropes holding it groaned worryingly. ‘I have been tricked, Herr Lovat. We sailed to France as planned but then everything changed. We stayed in dock for three days and weren’t allowed to leave the harbour. Sometimes they kept us prisoner below decks. It was disgraceful.’
‘Alright. Try not to get excited. What happened in France? Did you take on any goods or passengers.’
‘Yah. Wie viele goods. I was forced to carry some of them. They didn’t want a factor at all – I have been pressganged me into becoming a slave. All day long they make me work, work, work. Me and the others.’
‘What others?’
‘There are young men aboard who wanted to travel to France. All of them have been tricked like me.’
‘Alright, never mind that for now. Which French port did you dock in?
‘I’m not sure. Not a large one – Boulogne, vielleicht. No distance from London.’
‘And you say that they kept you below decks at times. Any idea why?’
‘I think they bring on some secret cargo that they don’t want us to see.’
‘Do you know what it was?’
‘No,’ Würtembatter rolled around as he thought for a moment, ‘something small I think. Small enough to keep in the captain’s quarters.’
‘What happened next?’
‘We sailed here – but where is here? They haven’t allowed me on deck yet?’
‘The port of Rye on the South coast of England.’
‘England, thank Gott. I can go back to London. You will take me with you, Herr Lovat, right?
I thought for a moment how I could sweeten the bitter pill I had to administer. ‘Listen Karl, I can’t take you with me now. It’s too dangerous. There are men guarding the ship. Here’s what I want you to do,’ I continued quickly, brushing away his attempt at remonstration. ‘Stay on the ship and gather as much information as you can about what is going on, I give you my word that Walsingham will reward you well.’
‘You can’t leave me in this cess pool. Please, Herr Lovat.’
‘It’s the only way Karl,’ by now I had stood up beside him and was busy unclasping his fingers that were fixed to my new woollen jacket. ‘You have a very important job to do. I won’t forget you, don’t worry.’
The message appeared to be getting through. Würtembatter slumped back heavily on the couch but then a thought occurred to him.
‘My belongings, Herr Lovat, and my bird Lucius? What has become of them?’
‘Lucius is safely ensconced in my lodgings; fortunately Emmalina took a shine to him, though I can’t think why. Some of your more valuable items are there too, the rest are in a tavern in Deptford. You can repay me the debt once we get you out of here.’
Würtembatter grasped my hand again. ‘Thank you, Herr Lovat. You are a good man. I know you will come back for me.’ His words sounded confident but the look in his eyes was more pleading than anything else. I patted his hand, put my finger to my lips, and moved away from him with exaggerated stealth.
I began grouping down an unfamiliar corridor, when it suddenly occurred to me that the encounter with Würtembatter had made me somewhat disorientated. I paused for a moment, trying to work out the best way back up to the bow end of the deck, which I reckoned was the best escape route.
As I stood in the shadows, I became aware of a low murmur of voices only a few feet away from me and there was something about one of the voices that caught my attention. I peered round a beam to have a look at the group.
In an open half cabin sat a group of three men playing a game of cards under smoky candlelight. Beyond them I could just make out lines of bunks slung between the rafters with men sleeping. But it was the group that interested me and one man in particular. Although the sound of his voice had piqued my interest, it was the unusual way that he held his playing cards which really got my attention. Instead of holding them in a fan like most players, he held them in both hands in a straight line so that rather than being able to take one with the spare hand and place it on the table, he was forced to move both hands over the playing area and drop a card, a move he made with great speed and skill, so that the card always fell face up. It was a technique that I had witnessed numerous times under low candlelight in my lodgings during our late night games. I moved as close as I dared to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me, but there was no doubting it – the man was Buck.
Buck, who had run away to France; Buck, who by now should be playing cards opposite a cardinal at a seminary in Rheims.
I stood for a moment wondering what to do, when footsteps alerted me to someone coming into the corridor. I slipped to my knees and rolled under a nearby bunk. He walked past me into the room and began speaking to Buck’s group. I was torn but I knew it was my only opportunity to escape.
Out on the deck the coast was clear. Ingram and his men must have set off to Stavening by now where they would be surprised to find my bed empty. I glided over the ship’s railing and down the ladder as quickly as I could. After retrieving my doublet from the dock, I crept back to the safety of Kyd’s tavern.
* * *
‘All I can prove is that Hardwick is smuggling wool, probably adulterated, and tobacco. That’s all there was in the hold. But I’m sure there is something else – both he and Würtembatter talked of a specific cargo as if it was something other than the goods – something more important, more dangerous.’
‘And then there were the men in the night.’
