Fire, page 23
‘And you too were involved. Sparrow saw you attending at least one of the meetings.’
‘He was mistaken. As the Commission is discovering, people remember all sorts of strange things after the event. I would not have been so foolish as to meet the plotters. But I did meet with Smith and Hubert at Hubert’s house, quite close to Peidloe’s, taking the precaution of leaving my carriage in another street. Smith had allocated to Hubert a key role—accompanying Peidloe on the night and then giving evidence against him. But Hubert needed convincing it would be free of risk for him—he was mad, but not mad enough to want to hang. So Smith got me to give Hubert the necessary assurance that, if he did what we asked and stuck to his story, he would be safe. I was helped by the fact that he’d heard of me. He saw me as the leader of the Protestants in England—perhaps even of the Protestants in Europe. His leader. And I think he also saw me as a father figure. His relationship with his own father had not been good. I was the father he had never had. The one who didn’t find him odd in any way.’
‘And so he’ll willingly go to his death for you?’
‘No, I explained that—he thinks I’ll save him. And he’ll think that right up to the moment they tighten the noose round his neck.’
‘But he didn’t start the fire?’
‘On the night in question, Graunt set off to Clerkenwell to cut off the water supply. Smith, Hubert and Peidloe went to start a small fire somewhere. But the baker’s shop was burning before they even left Hubert’s house. Peidloe insisted they go west and start another fire near the Palace. Smith’s account was confused, but it’s clear that, near St Paul’s, Hubert started arguing with Peidloe about his fee for the job. Hubert never could work out when to keep his mouth shut. Peidloe, who in one sense was no fool, countered that he’d suspected Hubert was a double agent all along. He wasn’t going to pay him a penny. It was beginning to look nasty. That was the point when Smith took the opportunity to shoot Peidloe in the back—a very good decision under the circumstances. We had no possible further use for him. Hubert ran off, but you showed up just as Smith was trying to work out what to do with the body.’
‘So, you’d lost your witness?’
‘Exactly. For a day or so it looked as if it had all been a waste of time. Graunt had clearly tampered with the water supply, but since the fire had started accidentally at Farynor’s bakery, that didn’t take us anywhere much. Graunt, who’d expected to see French troops on the streets the following morning, probably felt a bit of a fool; but he knew he wasn’t going to hang, because it all looked like an unfortunate error.’
‘Then Hubert came back.’
‘Arrested at Romford. Yes, that was a stroke of luck. Suddenly we had our witness again. Smith found him at the gaol, terrified about what would happen to him. Smith calmed him down, coached him in what he must tell people. As I say, left to his own devices he’d have said whatever nonsense came into his head. So Smith gave him the exact words, got him to repeat them, and told him not to deviate from them at all. If he did that, he was in no danger.’
‘So Hubert said it all to save his skin?’
‘I’d like to think he did it out of loyalty to me. I value loyalty, Mr Grey, as you know.’
‘And almost none of what he said was true?’
‘We didn’t need him to say what was true. We just needed him to say it was a Catholic plot.’
‘What about his visits to Paris and Sweden?’
‘Yes, when he departed from the script, we ended up with some very strange evidence indeed. That’s why we discouraged his thinking for himself. But for the most part he did as we asked, and he’s said more than enough to hang. He did well for me. I have no complaints.’
‘Well done, my Lord.’
‘Thank you, Mr Grey. But Arlington’s no fool. He’s talked to Graunt. He got you to talk to Hubert. Above all, he’s talked to the King and the Duke of York. He knows perfectly well there’s no Catholic uprising worth the name. And for the King’s sake he doesn’t want phantom plots emerging from nowhere. He’d have also picked up early on that his protégé Sir Thomas Clifford had got some mud on his hands. That was going to make him doubly cautious.’
‘Arlington said nothing to me about Sir Thomas.’
‘You didn’t need to know. And no doubt he saw the two of us as allies. And so we could have been allies, John. But you persisted in wanting to know the truth—to prove that Hubert was innocent, as if that mattered. So you either had to be bought or disposed of. I really did my best to buy you. Few other men would have had the patience that I did. You have to admit that.’
‘So, when I said no, you got Smith to try to kill me?’
‘Smith was supposed to leave you there in the cellar. Had all gone according to plan, my men would have rescued you from Arlington’s trap the following morning. You’d have been very grateful and much less loyal to your old master. But Smith instructed one of his companions to remain and ensure that you did not get away. That was a mistake.’
‘Then you tried to have me drowned but, when the second attempt failed, Jones swore it was Arlington. That was very clever. I believed it. And you had him beaten so that it would appear true.’
Ashley turns and looks at Jones, who smiles.
‘He was paid well for that piece of acting. And a little pig’s blood goes a long way. Others I did not need to pay. They were willing to kill you free of charge.’
‘You mean you informed Mistress Farley that I had killed her husband?’
‘Yes. I mean, in a way, you had. He died because of what you knew. It wasn’t safe to leave him to sell his story to you or Arlington.’
‘Your love of loyalty does not extend to giving it to others.’
‘I never said it did.’
‘I should kill you here and now.’
‘Unfortunately you are tied up with very strong ropes and we have your sword and pistol. And posterity may not agree with you—if any of this were ever to come to light. Did you study history at school? Were you taught about the reign of Mary Tudor? If the Catholics gain control, that is what we shall have again, Mr Grey. Bonfires in Smithfield that will never be put out. Cardinals issuing instructions to the King. The Inquisition plying its trade in Lambeth Palace. I do genuinely regret your coming death, but think of the thousands of other deaths if we ever have a Papist monarch. Now we shall be spared that, because of the terrible warning provided by this Catholic plot. Unlike most courtiers, I do go amongst the citizens of London, Mr Grey. I know what they think. And they think that James Duke of York must never succeed to the throne of these kingdoms. If the King does not produce a legitimate heir, then the bastard Duke of Monmouth must rule after him. William the Conqueror was a bastard—it is no impediment. The French Papist Hubert will shortly be hanged, because he will insist on it. Your own death will be less public, but as you vanish beneath the waters of the Thames, you will have the comfort of knowing that you have not died in vain.’
‘But won’t people know it was Farynor who started the fire?’
‘They’ll believe what they want to believe, and at the moment the citizens of London want to believe that they’ve lost all they have because of a well-planned French plot to seize the City—not because of a very avoidable accident in a baker’s shop. I think we should let them have that, don’t you? We’ll have a plaque put up somewhere, saying that, by the permission of heaven, Protestant London was destroyed by the scheming Papists. Or something of the sort. And that’s what history will record.’
‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘Well, that’s very clear. I’m grateful to you for explaining it all to me. Perhaps on second thoughts that clerkship of yours would be of interest after all.’
‘To save your skin you’re happy to see your master Arlington exiled?’
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘And you will give evidence that will help hang Hubert, even though he is innocent?’
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘And against Sir Felix Clifford?’
‘Why is that necessary?’ I ask. ‘Did he play any part in the plot?’
Ashley smiles. ‘If I said yes, would you believe me? He has nothing to thank the King for. He might wish to depose him and see if his brother is more grateful to ancient Cavaliers.’
‘He has the sort of loyalty you would never begin to understand,’ I say.
‘Perhaps I don’t need to understand it. Anyway, what do you say? I may as well bring down one of Arlington’s allies if I can, and Sir Felix’s conviction should do that. Why should you care? You’ve said: Sir Felix is no kin to you of any sort.’
‘I have known him all my life.’
‘That doesn’t exempt him from justice—and there is no doubt that he recommended Graunt, and Graunt turned off the water supply. And he was in the City on the first night of the fire—you told me yourself that you saw him there. It must have crossed your mind that there was more to his presence there than simply visiting his mistress? It will be very easy to have him found guilty. I would require you only to confirm you saw him there. That should be enough for any reasonable Protestant jury. What do you say?’
‘Very well,’ I say. ‘I’ll swear to that too.’
‘To save your own skin, you’ll see Sir Felix hanged, drawn and quartered as a traitor?’
‘Yes. Just untie me and set me free. When you need me to do so, I’ll give evidence.’
Ashley laughs. ‘Do you really think I’m that stupid?’ he says. ‘That you would give evidence against Arlington and Hubert, yes, perhaps. But not Sir Felix. Do you imagine I’m going to free you, on the basis of a vague promise, so you can run off to Arlington and tell him what you know? It was a good effort on your part, but sadly you’ve just over-egged the pudding. Well, don’t worry, I can probably manage without your help. Unless … here’s an idea that might suit both of us. Would you like to sign a statement now saying that Sir Felix is a traitor? We’d untie one hand so you could do it. Once I had that in my possession, I think I could actually trust you to behave. If you did, I might not even need to use it. I might just keep it, locked away in a cabinet of curiosities that I possess. It could be our own secret. Nobody would need to know about it. Not the court. Not the King. Not Sir Felix. Not even Lady Pole … Unless you went back on your word, of course, and failed to testify against Arlington. Then they might all find out what sort of loyalty you have to your friends. So, give me a signature now and we’ll untie the ropes and let you go wherever you wish … Would that be convenient for you?’
‘Go to hell,’ I say.
‘No food for the prisoner and no water,’ says Ashley to Jones. ‘Let’s give him time to think. I’ll be back later to dictate his confession. Or to tell you where to drop him.’
Uneven footsteps cross the deck and mount the ladder. The hatch closes. I am in darkness again.
‘Given the choice between doing what they expect and what they don’t expect, give them a surprise.’ That was another thing my fencing master told me, in between showing me how to insert a blade neatly between somebody’s ribs and how to beg for mercy in Spanish, Catalan and Portuguese: all useful skills. Tied up as I am, doing the unexpected is not easy. ‘If there’s a reason for them keeping you alive, don’t try to argue against it.’ That too was sound advice from the same source. In practice, I’d done my best to persuade Ashley that I was a danger to him, mocked him and convinced him that the only way out was to drop me in the river. I could see now that that might have been a mistake. I lie with my face against the musty decking. I have two hours, perhaps three, to find a way of getting out of here before Ashley realises I won’t sign his document and decides precisely how he wants me killed. There must be a way out. It has to be possible.
Judging by the church bells, two hours have gone by, and I have no more idea how to escape than I had before. I use my arms to push myself into a sitting position, but with my ankles tied I cannot easily stand. I certainly cannot climb a ladder, bound as I am, even if I could reach it. I have been left no convenient sharp piece of metal to cut through my ropes—or, at least, I can no more see such a tool than I can see anything else. Then I hear the splash of oars approaching. Ashley is returning sooner than expected. Perhaps I should beg for mercy in Catalan. It has the advantage that it will be the very last thing he’ll be expecting.
I hear shouts from our ship to the rowing boat and back again. Somebody sounds annoyed and somebody very insistent. Then there is a shot. This could be very good or very bad. In a moment I think that I shall find out which.
There are footsteps on the deck above me, and more voices. Then the hatch is dragged back again. A red-coated soldier is the first to descend, a rifle slung over his shoulder. The second, much to my surprise, is Joseph Williamson. He turns and looks at me. And he nods, as if he has just been proved more right than even he expected.
CHAPTER
25
‘Good afternoon, John,’ he says. ‘The Captain informed us most emphatically that we should not find you here, but it would seem that he has made an honest mistake. I shall explain to him that you are now safe, and invite him to think again to see if he now remembers the manner of your arrival.’
The soldier is already cutting through my ropes with a knife and I am able to move my hands to the front of my body for the first time since yesterday evening.
‘How did you know I was here?’ I ask.
‘You may thank your clerk, who is even now descending the ladder.’
‘I don’t quite understand …’
‘You told me to go to Lord Ashley if you didn’t return, sir,’ says Will, turning to face me. ‘But I wasn’t sure how much I trusted him. So first I went to see if I could find Mr Sparrow. He was putting together his remaining goods before leaving London. He confirmed my worst fears, sir—that it was Lord Ashley who employed the man who tried to kill you before. So, I went to see the one person that I do trust—Mr Williamson here. We agreed that I should watch Lord Ashley and see where he went. I waited outside the Palace until he came out. I followed him to the river and he took a boat downstream, so I followed in a second boat. I was worried when I saw him heading for the bridge, but it was slack water and he passed under easily enough, so I gave my boatman instructions to do the same. We stayed a bit behind him until he reached this miserable-looking ship and boarded it. That was enough for me. We headed back and just made it under the bridge again before the tide turned properly. Then we rowed back to Westminster and I reported to Mr Williamson, who had already told Lord Arlington of our problem. My Lord had obtained a detachment of guards for us. The tide was running fast by now but, not knowing how things were with you, we shot the bridge again—an exciting experience, sir—and so reached the ship again well before Lord Ashley. There was some dispute as to whether you were on board, so we fired a shot across their bows, as it were, and they saw sense. We’re within range of the guns at the Tower, so they weren’t going to be allowed just to sail away, whatever they did to us. The crew are all under arrest, though it will take a couple of trips ashore to get them into the Tower where they belong.’
‘I am not sure how to thank either of you,’ I say.
‘How you reward your clerk is your affair,’ says Williamson. ‘I’ve no doubt that Lord Arlington would find a way of billing you for the rescue if he could. But I think you should regard it as payment for your work in Devon. You owe his Lordship nothing. Indeed, I rather think he is still in your debt.’
‘I hoped you’d say that,’ I say. ‘Because I may need to ask a further favour of him.’
Lord Arlington is very pleased with himself. He has a somewhat contrite lawyer in front of him and the prospect of bringing down a rival. He takes a pinch of snuff and inhales it with great satisfaction.
‘I hope, Mr Grey, that in future you will learn to trust my judgement. I told you to stay out of this, but you persisted and almost got yourself killed. It was fortunate that your clerk and Mr Williamson had the good sense to come and consult me and that I was able to obtain half a dozen men from the King.’
‘I apologise unreservedly,’ I say.
Arlington smiles benignly. ‘The outcome is, however, satisfactory, I think, for all concerned. I am not displeased with you.’
‘Good,’ I say, ‘because I have a favour to ask.’
‘I shall grant it if I can, Mr Grey.’ Arlington’s pleasure at my having to grovel is such that I almost wish Ashley had been successful in dumping me in the Thames loaded with chains. It would be preferable in one or two ways.
‘Sir Felix Clifford anticipated your orders to release him from the Tower,’ I say. ‘I ask that he should be pardoned for leaving his cell without seeking permission first.’
Arlington nods. ‘I always said he was there only for his own protection. Ashley was keen to get his hands on him. He thought that, with a little pressure, Sir Felix would give evidence against a friend of mine.’
‘Then there is no need to report it to the King?’
‘I have already reported it. His Majesty was inclined to make Sir Felix a viscount or at least baron for his audacity. I had to inform him that that would be excessive. Most of us have had to earn our peerages through years of devoted loyalty to His Majesty, not because of a single piece of play-acting.’
‘I’m sure Sir Felix will be quite content to remain a mere baronet,’ I say.
‘Will he?’ says Arlington. ‘Very well. What are your own plans now?’
‘I had intended to ride back to Essex,’ I say. ‘There is a matter of some importance that I needed to attend to, but having had my arms tied behind my back for many hours, I am not sure that I have the strength in them even to hold the reins. I must wait a day or so. There is time.’
‘Good,’ says Arlington, without enquiring time for what. ‘I shall need to talk to you again—particularly about what to do with Mr Hubert—but it is not urgent. Go to Essex and inform me once you are back in London.’
