5 A Very Murdering Battle (8 page)

‘I rule them with a rod of iron.’

‘Not all of them – you ask Private Plummer.’

‘Why?’ Welbeck was checked. ‘What’s Ben been doing?’

‘He’s been bothering my men,’ explained Curry, ‘and I don’t take kindly to that. It’s the second time I’ve caught him at it. If there’s a third, I’ll cut his balls off and feed them back to him in a bowl of porridge.’

Welbeck became serious. Discipline was his watchword. Most of his men were too frightened to disobey him. The few who ignored his strictures suffered severe retribution as a result. After that they soon fell into line. Ben Plummer had been a troublemaker ever since he’d joined the army. Even the horrors of the siege of Lille hadn’t tamed him. He was too clever to provoke Welbeck to extremes but he knew how to sting the sergeant from time to time. If Plummer was wandering all over the camp, Welbeck wanted to know why.

‘Why was he bothering your men, Leo?’ he asked.

‘It was because you let the clever bastard off the leash.’

‘Did you kick his scrawny arse for him?’

‘I was too slow to catch him,’ admitted Curry, ‘but I’ll get him next time. Perhaps you should hurry back to camp, after all. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to miss Ben Plummer’s funeral.’

Curry stalked off, leaving Welbeck to kick his horse into action. As he rode away, he was troubled. It was an article of faith with him that his men didn’t let him down. Plummer was clearly doing that and giving a rival sergeant an opportunity to crow over Welbeck. It was a long ride to Amsterdam. He’d have plenty of time to brood on a suitable punishment for the wayward private.

Since they’d had no children, Pienaar and his wife had lived in a relatively modest house. When he was admitted by a servant, Daniel was struck by its total lack of colour. A man who worked with vivid silks and wool of many hues occupied a rather bland environment. Even the paintings on the walls had a pallid look to them. Daniel was shown into the parlour. Pienaar joined him, surprised at the visit but glad to see him. After they had shaken hands, they took a seat opposite each other.

‘How is he?’ asked Pienaar with genuine concern.

‘He’s having another day in bed.’

‘When I called to see him yesterday, he looked dreadful.’

‘The theft of the tapestry has hit him hard, Aelbert.’

‘It’s hit us all, Captain Rawson. It was so unexpected. That’s why we took no special measures to protect it. Oh, if only we’d done that!’

‘It’s too late to worry about it now,’ said Daniel. ‘The doors of the workshop have been reinforced. It won’t be so easy to get into the property again.’

‘Why exactly are you here?’

‘I came to ask you the same question that I put to Nick Geel.’

Pienaar stiffened. ‘You went to see Nicholaes first?’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘But I’m senior to him.’

‘Rank doesn’t come into this, Aelbert. There’s no significance in my talking to him first.’ Daniel could see that he was peeved. ‘What I put to him was this. In order for someone to steal the tapestry, they had to know that it existed and was about to be completed. Do you agree?’

‘I do, Captain Rawson.’

‘Neither of you would knowingly reveal such information – you’re both too loyal to do that – but it might have come out in an unguarded moment.’

‘I don’t
have
unguarded moments,’ said Pienaar, sharply.

‘Everyone else does.’

‘I am not everyone else.’

‘Your friends are bound to be curious about your work.’

‘I’ve told them that I never discuss it. Besides, I have a very small circle of friends.’ He pursed his lips. ‘It’s even smaller since I lost my wife. Several people seem to have drifted out of my life. A single man doesn’t have as many invitations as a married couple. That suits me,’ he went on, chin up. ‘I prefer to be alone.’

‘But even you must have a social life of some kind, Aelbert.’

‘So?’

‘Has there been a convivial occasion recently?’

‘I try to avoid such things.’

‘Don’t you like a drink from time to time?’

‘Yes – but only in the privacy of my own home.’

‘Presumably, you invite friends here and offer them a beverage.’

‘That’s enough, Captain Rawson!’ shouted Pienaar, simmering with righteous indignation. ‘I can see what you’re getting at and I find it insulting. First of all, I have never in my entire life got so drunk that I don’t know what I’m saying. Secondly, I don’t number common thieves among my friends. Even if I did mistakenly pass on information about my work, they wouldn’t use it to plot against me and my employer. Thirdly – and this is something you must bear in mind – Emanuel Janssen is my friend. He’s without a peer in the whole of Europe. I idolise the man. I may only have been working for him for a short time but I spent fifteen years waiting for the opportunity to do so. Given all that,’ he added, veins standing out on his temples, ‘do you
really
think that I’d stoop to betray my master?’

Daniel held up both palms. ‘No, Aelbert, I never thought that for a moment.’

‘Then why come bothering me?’

‘I have to explore every avenue.’

‘Talk to the servants. One of them might be the culprit.’

‘I’ve already done that,’ said Daniel, ‘and I’m satisfied that they’re completely innocent. Like you, they’re sworn to secrecy. So, of course, is Amalia.’

‘Then the finger must point at Nicholaes.’

‘He swears that he’s revealed nothing about the tapestry.’

Pienaar was unconvinced. ‘That’s what he’ll say when he’s sober.’

‘Do you have some reason to doubt his honesty?’

‘No, he’s very honest. I grant him that.’

‘Yet you still have reservation in your voice,’ noted Daniel.

‘Nicholaes has many good qualities,’ said Pienaar, choosing his words with care. ‘He’s a fine craftsman and he works hard. In fact, there have been times when he’s worked rather too hard. The strain has been too much for him.’

‘In what way?’

‘He’s needed to bolster his spirits, Captain Rawson.’

Daniel guessed his meaning. ‘He took strong drink to work with him?’

‘I caught him swigging from a bottle when he thought I wasn’t looking. It’s strictly forbidden. If the master had known about it, Nicholaes would’ve been in serious trouble.’

‘Didn’t you report him?’

‘I don’t carry tales,’ said Pienaar, piously. ‘I gave him a stern warning instead. Since then, he’s behaved himself.’

‘So it was a solitary incident?’

‘No – it just happened to be the first time it came to my notice. He admitted that there’d been other occasions, when the master and I were absent. Can you hear what I’m telling you, Captain Rawson?’ he continued. ‘Nicholaes has a weakness. My suspicion is that someone may have exploited it.’

‘That’s a possibility,’ conceded Daniel.

‘Look at him and not at me. There’s no need to come knocking at my door. I have no such weakness. I’d never dream of turning to drink to get me through the working day. I have too much self-respect.’

‘I can see that, Aelbert.’

‘May I be candid?’

‘Please do.’

Pienaar took a deep breath before speaking. ‘The very fact that you felt the need to question me on this matter is offensive. It was unnecessary and I found it deeply unpleasant. I’ll thank you not to come here again.’ He wagged a finger. ‘In short, please remove my name from your list of suspects right now. It ought never to have been there in the first place. You’ve disappointed me, Captain Rawson. I took you for a shrewder man than you are. Remember this.’ His eyes blazed for a second. ‘I am wholly above suspicion.’

After offering him a polite apology, Daniel excused himself and left the house. The keen air encouraged him to walk briskly. On the journey back to the Janssen house, he had much to reflect on. The real surprise was that Aelbert Pienaar had some fire in his belly. Daniel had never seen any hint of it before. In the past, Pienaar had always been quiet and withdrawn yet there was clearly another side to the man. He had a temper and it was instantly roused by the suggestion that he might unwittingly have provided information about the tapestry to the people who subsequently stole it. Pienaar’s defence of himself had been strong and impassioned. Daniel had admired him for speaking out. There was only one problem. Though the man had claimed to be wholly above suspicion, Daniel didn’t believe him. Something told him that Aelbert Pienaar would repay close investigation.

Someone who protested his innocence so fiercely had something to hide.

Emanuel Janssen couldn’t be kept away from work for long. Even though he was still visibly unwell, he insisted on dragging himself out of bed and returning to his normal routine, arguing that that was the best possible medicine for him. Geel and Pienaar were both pleased to resume work after the brief suspension. While they were alarmed to see how frail their employer looked, they understood how important it was for him to be there instead of fretting in bed. It was during a break in work that the three of them were able to have a proper discussion at last.

‘How do you feel?’ asked Pienaar, solicitously.

‘I’m fine, Aelbert,’ said Janssen with a weak smile. ‘Work is my lifeblood.’

‘You mustn’t strive too hard.’

‘That’s what my daughter keeps telling me.’

‘She must be very anxious about you,’ said Geel, seeing a chance to talk about Amalia. ‘I can’t ever remember you taking to your bed before. How did Miss Amalia react when it happened?’

‘She feared that I was at death’s door.’

‘Poor woman – she must have suffered.’

‘I’m stronger than I seem, Nick.’

‘That’s a relief,’ said Pienaar.

‘The shock of that letter was dreadful. It hit me like a violent blow.’

‘What are you going to do about it?’

‘Well, there’s no way that I can raise the amount of money they demand,’ said Janssen. ‘I’d have to sell my house and borrow from friends to do that.’

‘The Duke of Marlborough could afford it,’ Geel put in. ‘By all accounts, he’s a very wealthy man.’

‘That’s beside the point, Nick. In theory, he
could
pay but Captain Rawson assures me that he’d never do so. If he can stand up to a whole French army, His Grace is not going to give in to the demands of a few Dutch thieves.’

‘In that case, the tapestry is doomed.’

‘Not necessarily,’ said Janssen. ‘We’re very fortunate to have Captain Rawson staying here. He’s confident that we’ll retrieve it somehow. He’s taken charge.’

‘I know,’ said Geel without enthusiasm. ‘He came to see me.’

Pienaar was aggrieved. ‘He paid me a visit as well,’ he recalled, ‘and had the gall to suggest that I might have divulged details of the tapestry while in my cups. I was affronted. I know you have faith in Captain Rawson, but I don’t share it.’

‘You would if you knew him as well as
I
do,’ said Janssen. ‘Daniel is a very extraordinary man.’

‘I’m sure that he is. But being a military hero doesn’t mean that he’s the ideal person in a situation like this. On the battlefield, you can
see
your enemy, whereas here they’re invisible.’

‘That’s a good point, Aelbert,’ said Geel, continuing his policy of being more respectful to his colleague. ‘We have no idea where the thieves are.’

‘They’re bound to show their hand again,’ reasoned Janssen. ‘They’ll want to know our response to their demand so will contact us again somehow.’

‘Somebody should watch through a window. The next time a letter is put through the door, they can rush out and grab the person who delivered it.’

‘I had the same idea, Nick, but Captain Rawson pointed out its defects. The thieves would never take the risk of coming here in person. They’d pay someone else, a complete stranger who had nothing to do with the theft of the tapestry. In any case,’ added Janssen, ‘we can’t have someone on guard twenty-four hours a day. What’s to stop a letter being delivered in the dead of night?’

‘In short,’ said Pienaar, gloomily, ‘there’s nothing we can do.’

‘Oh yes there is, Aelbert.’

‘Then what is it?’

‘Leave it to Captain Rawson. He’ll devise a plan.’

Henry Welbeck was glad when he finally arrived in Amsterdam. Always an unwilling horseman, he’d begun to feel saddle-sore after the first few miles. But he persevered and rode into the city on what was a comparatively mild day. Daniel had warned him how busy the streets could become and he spent most of his time trying to dodge speeding carts and rumbling coaches. He’d never been to the Janssen house before, so had some difficulty finding it. When he finally tracked it down, he knocked on the door and waited. The door was eventually opened by Beatrix, who looked at him with suspicion. When she learnt who he was, however, her manner changed at once and she gave him a cordial welcome. She called a manservant to stable Welbeck’s horse then invited the visitor in.

‘Captain Rawson has told us so much about you, Sergeant,’ she said.

Welbeck was uneasy. ‘I see.’

‘He said that you’re the best man to have beside him in an emergency.’

‘That depends what the emergency is.’

‘He’ll explain everything … My name is Beatrix, by the way.’

‘Dan’s mentioned you a number of times.’

She was delighted. ‘Really? What did he say about me?’

‘I forget.’

He remembered very well but found her proximity unsettling and didn’t want to prolong the exchange. Welbeck was never comfortable in the presence of women, especially when one of them was being so friendly. In spite of his unsightly features, Beatrix was obviously impressed by him. She was grinning broadly as she took him into the parlour, where Daniel was sitting down. Leaping up from his chair, he came over to pump his friend’s hand. Beatrix hovered until she realised that she was in the way. Bestowing a sweet smile on Welbeck, she tripped out.

‘What have you been telling her about me?’ asked Welbeck, gruffly.

‘I told her nothing but the truth, Henry.’

‘I didn’t like the way she kept grinning at me.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Daniel, laughing. ‘You’re in no danger from Beatrix. Besides, you’re already contracted to another woman – Rachel Rees.’

Welbeck spluttered. ‘Keep that harpy away from me!’

‘You made a conquest, Henry, and you should acknowledge it.’

‘I’d rather stick rusty pins in my eyes.’

It took Daniel minutes to calm him down. When they were both seated, he explained the situation to Welbeck and told him about the letter from the thieves. The amount demanded in guilders was the equivalent of fifty thousand pounds.

‘His Grace will never even consider paying it,’ said Daniel.

‘He’s too bloody tight-fisted, that’s why.’

‘And Amalia’s father simply doesn’t have the money.’

‘You can’t say that about Corporal John,’ said Welbeck. ‘He must be one of the richest men in England. Think of the income he gets from selling commissions, for instance. And look at all the houses he owns. I don’t even own
one
.’

‘You don’t need to when you’re in the army.’

‘No – I can freeze to death in a tent.’

‘Not when you’re here in Amsterdam. This is a very cosy house, Henry. You’ll find it an improvement on being in winter quarters.’

‘I’m not so sure. At least in camp I don’t have women like Beatrix grinning at me like a monkey. Instead I have dozens of miserable bloody soldiers to look at.’

‘Not to mention the handsome face of Sergeant Curry.’

‘Only a blind man would find Leo handsome.’

‘You love a regular tussle with each other. You won’t be able to trade insults for a while, I’m afraid. The sergeant must have been sad to see you go.’

‘He was frothing with jealousy, Dan. While I escape the camp, he’s stuck there with nothing to do. However,’ said Welbeck, ‘let’s come back to the problem in hand – and it seems to be a very big problem. If nobody is ready to pay what the thieves are asking, you’ll never see the tapestry again.’

‘Yes we will, Henry.’

‘How?’

‘We accept their terms.’

Welbeck was taken aback. ‘But you can’t drum up that amount of money.’

‘
We
know that,’ said Daniel, ‘but they don’t. We have to pretend to accede to their demand. It’s the only way to draw them out into the open.’

‘I never thought of that.’

‘Ideally, of course, it would be wonderful if we could catch them
before
we get to that stage. We can certainly buy some time to continue the search. When they next make contact, we can tell them that His Grace is gathering the money together in The Hague and will send it in due course. That should give us precious extra days.’

‘How can we make best use of them?’

Daniel told him about the way he’d questioned the two assistants and how each had responded. While he didn’t rule out Geel as the possible source of an unintentional leak of information, he was more interested in taking a closer look at Pienaar. He confided his suspicions to Welbeck and asked him if he’d tail the man when Pienaar left at the end of the day.

Welbeck was mystified. ‘Why don’t
you
follow him, Dan?’

‘Because he knows me,’ replied Daniel. ‘If he caught sight of me, he’d have another fit of pique. You’re a stranger to him. It would never cross his mind that you were trailing him.’

‘Do you think the effort could be worthwhile?’

‘Yes, Henry, I do. There’s something about the man that jars with me.’

‘So all I have to do is to follow him home?’

‘No,’ said Daniel, ‘you simply have to make sure that that’s where he’s going. My guess is that we may be in for something of a surprise.’

Now that he knew the amount of money being demanded, Marlborough was even more irate. He would never hand over the sum of fifty thousand pounds in Dutch currency for property that was rightly his own. It was unthinkable. He was not unused to demands for money or, indeed, for making them. Holding prisoners of war to ransom was a common and very lucrative practice. If he was unable to organise a prisoner exchange, he’d willingly paid large amounts for the return of senior British officers who’d fallen into enemy hands. There was nothing ignoble in that. It was in the nature of warfare. He could always recoup such expenditure in due course. The situation here was different. Thieves had stolen something that held immense emotional value for him. Ramillies was a stirring victory that confirmed his position as a supreme military strategist. To have a tapestry of the battle hanging in Blenheim Palace meant that he had a permanent reminder of his triumph.

It was his wife who troubled him most. Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, was an authoritative woman with a truculent streak. If he told her about his dilemma, she would explode with rage and he desperately wanted to avoid that. As it was, her most recent letters had fury coursing through every line. She complained bitterly about the way that her close friendship with Queen Anne had been systematically undermined by Abigail Masham, a member of the royal retinue for whom she retained the most utter detestation. Ousted from royal favour, the Duchess sought consolation in supervising the construction of Blenheim Palace, but there was more vexation than consolation. Money was inevitably the root cause. She was forever haggling with the architect over costs and trying to make craftsmen take less for their services than they were asking. Every detail of her financial skirmishes was dashed off in letters to her husband and he’d been almost relieved when ice in the Dutch ports brought a halt to her correspondence. He loved her dearly and missed her greatly, but there were times when he was actually glad to be apart from her. This was one of them.

Yet she would have to know the ugly truth one day. Marlborough prayed that the situation would have been resolved by then. He wanted to be able to return to England with the tapestry. Having to admit to her that it had been destroyed by thieves in an act of malice would rouse her to a pitch of anger. Once infuriated, she couldn’t easily be pacified. The fact that Marlborough had refused to part with any money wouldn’t moderate her wrath in any way. The Duchess had been shown the design for the tapestry by Janssen himself and she’d given it her seal of approval. She’d already waited a long time to see the finished work. To be told that Janssen and his assistants would have to start all over again would be intolerable to her. Though none of it was his fault, Marlborough would be made to feel obscurely responsible. Only his wife was capable of doing such a thing to him.

His one hope lay with Daniel Rawson. Having employed him on a number of dangerous assignments, Marlborough knew about his almost limitless capabilities. But his previous work had always had a military aspect to it. He’d never before been engaged to solve such a crime and recover property. Marlborough was bound to wonder if even Daniel’s resourcefulness was equal to the task.

‘It’s a waste of time, Dan,’ protested Welbeck. ‘I’ve followed him twice now and he went straight home. Pienaar is not the man we’re after.’

‘Don’t give up, Henry,’ said Daniel. ‘Trail him again this evening.’

‘What’s the point?’

‘I have this worry about him.’

‘And so do I,’ said Welbeck, bitterly. ‘My worry is that he does nothing but come to work and return home day after bloody day. That’s his entire life.’

‘Try just once more.’

‘It’s
cold
out there.’

‘Do it as a favour to me, Henry.’ Welbeck could not refuse such an appeal but he continued to grumble. It was a long walk to Aelbert Pienaar’s house and, on the first occasion, he’d got hopelessly lost on his way back. There was always the possibility that Pienaar went home, had a meal and later went out, but Welbeck doubted it. The man had trudged all the way to his house and entered it as if eager to collapse into a chair by a warm fire. He didn’t give the impression of someone intent on revelry. Everything about him – his sober attire, his hunched walk, his air of sadness – suggested that Pienaar led a very private existence. Such a person would hardly associate with criminals.

Notwithstanding his objections, Welbeck responded to Daniel’s request. When Pienaar finished at the end of a long day, he put on his coat and hat before letting himself out into the darkness. Welbeck was ready. After watching him through the window, he left the house and fell in behind him. Because he felt in no danger of being discovered, he stayed fairly close to him. On neither of the two previous occasions had Pienaar bothered to look behind him. He was too intent on getting home. When the man took the same route as usual, Welbeck groaned inwardly and braced himself for another fruitless plod through the streets of Amsterdam. Then Pienaar suddenly turned off his familiar path and headed down an alleyway. He was more cautious now, pausing to look over his shoulder before continuing. Keeping to the shadows, Welbeck allowed more space between them. He was excited by the change in routine, wondering if Daniel’s distrust of Pienaar would, after all, prove justified.