The Fabric of Murder (Mysteries of Georgian Norfolk Book 2) (10 page)

‘By Bonneviot! That I had not expected. I thought it was Hinman.’

‘No, Bonneviot came to him some weeks back. As I am sure you know, Bonneviot had quarrelled with the London merchants, so that they would no longer do business with him. At first, Mr. Burford told my girl, Bonneviot had determined on selling his goods elsewhere. Then he seems to have repented of that idea and wished to sell to the Londoners again.’

‘But all say he would never accept that he was in the wrong!’

‘That was why he needed Mr. Burford’s help. Burford was to act for him as agent in London. Mr. Burford had no trouble with the principal merchants there. Indeed, his reputation was good with all. Bonneviot offered him part of the profits, if he would sell Bonneviot’s stocks of cloth alongside his own. That way, Bonneviot could avoid backing down in his quarrel and yet gain an income once again. For it appears he had approached several men in Norwich for loans and received a poor welcome.’

‘I can see what was intended. So far as I can judge, nothing in the deal was illegal or even sharp business. Burford becomes an agent, sells Bonneviot’s cloth and they split the proceeds. The only unusual feature is that Bonneviot must keep his part in the deal a secret.’

‘It is not the agreement which upset Mr. Burford. It is what he found on entering into Bonneviot’s business. It was clear to him that the man had been trying to stay afloat by not paying his bills to those who supplied him with yarn and the like. Many of his out-workers had not been paid either, sometimes for many months.’

‘Yes, I have heard the same.’

‘Mr. Burford tackled Bonneviot about it. Bonneviot said a loan had now been agreed with a London banker. Soon there would be cash enough to pay the outstanding bills at least.’

‘Did the cash come?’

‘I do not know, for it was a little time ago that Mr. Burford was here. But would not Bonneviot’s death render the loan re-payable?’

‘I would have thought so. Oh, here is a fine mess! Gracie, my dear, I must think hard to sort it out.’

‘Do not forget your resolution to clear your mind, Ash. Nor your invitation to me and my sister.’

‘Indeed I will not! I will need the clearest of heads for this task. But one thing I do see, and it is most vital. I must warn the mayor and his colleagues at once that they face a crisis, both to the largest industry of this city and to its reputation. Once I have done that, I promise to set all aside until next week.’

‘Go then and God speed!’

‘Dear Gracie. As before, you and your girls have helped me in … shall we say … many special ways? I can reward you – and will – but your girls need a reward too. A small gift of money to the one who had to put up with Hinman, and the same to the one who entertained Mr. Burford. Perhaps two guineas apiece?’

‘That is far too generous, my dear. Give such a reward and I will have every girl in the house pestering me with pillow-talk to pass on. A guinea between them would be ample.’

‘Then I will give you the rest to use for treats amongst all the girls as you see fit. As you know, I strive hard to avoid favouritism.’

‘You puzzle me greatly, Ash. Where does your money come from?’

‘Frugality in my habits and a bookselling business that, though small, returns sound profits. Beyond that, you will look in vain.’

‘Go! You may be a wonderful lover, but you lie woefully. Go, I say, before you shame yourself – and me – with such falsehoods!’ But she was smiling as she spoke.

A
lderman Halloran was dining
when Foxe arrived at his house. But such was the seriousness of the message sent in to him that he left the table at once and came to his library, where Foxe was waiting.

Throughout Foxe’s explanation of what he had found, the alderman sat in silence. Only the darkening colour of his face betrayed his emotion. That, and the way his hands gripped the arms of his chair, so that his knuckles grew white. When Foxe finally sat back to signal that he had no more to relate, there were several moments of silence as the alderman thought through what he had heard.

At length he reacted. ‘Merciful God in Heaven! This could be a disaster for us all. I must go to the mayor at once! Are you sure of all this, Foxe?’

Foxe indicated that he was.

‘If all that cloth were sold in the market at once,’ Alderman Halloran continued, ‘the price of finished goods would fall so low that no one else could trade, save at a terrible loss. Those without enough capital to hold off would have no choice. Nor could prices easily be raised afterwards. Our working men are difficult enough to hold in check at the best of times. With mass unemployment, who knows what they might do? Riot at least! The dyers and finishers too … And the yarn merchants …’

‘Our whole manufacture would be affected,’ Foxe said quietly.

‘Nay, our whole city! Who would do business with us? All would be afraid of some other hidden scandal. Our bankers would sustain huge losses. Some of those too might fall into bankruptcy. No! Most of them, for cloth is our largest business and must account for many of their loans. Indeed, some are cloth or yarn merchants as well as bankers. The curses of all the demons of Hell upon Bonneviot! … The merchants of Halifax and Bradford will be overjoyed … aye, and those of Paisley … our downfall would be the finest present they could be given. It shall not happen, Foxe! By God, it shall not!’

There was silence again. Then Alderman Halloran sprang to his feet and hurried to ring the bell for a servant.

‘This cannot – must not – be suffered! … Jenkins, tell my guests I must leave the house at once on most urgent business. Then summon me a chair and bring my coat.’ He turned to Foxe again. ‘Thank God you have been able to warn us in time, Foxe. We owe you a huge debt for what you have done.’

‘You are going to tell the mayor?’

‘On the instant! If we call the other aldermen together, there may yet be time for us to find a way to stop this disaster from happening. Leave all that with me, Foxe. We are men with significant power in this city on our own. If we act together, I believe none can stop us. What will you do next?’

‘I am not certain, sir. As soon as I realised what might happen, I came to you at once. I have not yet had time to consider further moves. My best course, perhaps, will be to concentrate on extracting some more details of this situation. Let us hope that they point to whoever is behind it.’

‘I leave all with you, Foxe. Succeed and I vow you will not lack for reward. But be discreet, I beg of you. None of this must ever be known outside the smallest group possible. All business stands or falls on trust. Once that is lost, it may never be recovered.’

‘One more thing, Alderman, if you will indulge me thus far. Will you ask the mayor to send word to the mayor of Halifax to enquire what is known there of this Mr. James Hinman? I do not know if he is behind it all, but I have yet to find another who better fits that role.’

‘Yes, Foxe, I will ask him. The man intrigues me as well. Besides, we have no need to accept men from outside our city into our dealings. I’m sure the mayor will agree with me.’

‘The chair is here, sir. And here is your coat and hat.’ Jenkins was back in the room.

‘Farewell, Foxe. My thanks again. I will let you know what transpires.’ And with those words, the alderman was gone.

What was he going to do? As Foxe returned to his home, he was thinking hard. Was this a plot to destroy Bonneviot alone, or to use him to undermine the whole business in Norwich stuffs? How could he move on until he knew that? Yet how could he find out, when all remained so obscure?

He was tempted to abandon his earlier promise to Gracie and rush into action at once. The alderman had confirmed that Bonneviot’s business and stocks were in as bad a state as Foxe had reckoned. Perhaps he could tackle Bonneviot’s foreman himself and either bribe or bully information from him. No, if he looked at the matter using reason, rather than giving way to his passions, it was clear there was little more to do now. All would better wait until Monday.

And yet … yes … there was one thing that should not wait. Brock had not returned with any report on McSwiggan. They must not let that ruffian slip away. There was another matter too that Brock could help with.

Thus it was that Foxe put off his own dinner just a little longer, despite the frowns from Mrs. Dobbins. Instead he told Alfred to bring him paper and pen, then seek out the boy Charlie. A message sent by him would be bound to reach Brock faster than one taking any other route.

The requests that Foxe made in his message were these. First, if Brock had found McSwiggan, he should be watched every moment, however many men this required. But none should approach him save a single, most trusted person. That man should find a way to place himself in McSwiggan’s company and ply him with drink. The object was to see if the man could be tricked into boasting of undertaking to kill someone for money. And whether he would tell who might have employed him in this way.

Take no risks, Foxe wrote, underlining the words, for it was much more important for Brock to keep McSwiggan from making off than to learn anything at this stage. When the time came, he had little doubt that between them they would find ways to loosen his tongue.

Foxe’s second request was that Brock find a suitable group of trusted men to watch James Hinman, wherever he might be found. He was probably lodged at some inn in the city. Since he spent a good deal of time in the coffee houses, it should not be too hard for someone to follow him back to wherever he was living. Again, Foxe stressed that Hinman must not be approached closely. It was vital he should not know any was taking interest in his movements.

He too must not be allowed to slip away. Money is no object in any of this. If you need twenty men, use them. Only – and this is vital – let no whisper of what you are doing reach Hinman’s ears. I would not have him bolt before we can put into place the means to uncover his part in this affair.’

The last requests were the simplest, but perhaps the ones that would puzzle Brock most. First, Foxe asked him to send word by young Charlie, as soon as he could, that all was in place. That was simple enough. Then, he was told he must also send word, either at once or as soon as may be, of the names and addresses of the best forgers in the city. Foxe wrote that was not interested in those who forged coins or banknotes. The ones he needed to find were those who might forge a legal document and do it so well that none, unless they were alerted beforehand, would spot the deception.

Foxe now read over what he had written, sealed the note and called Alfred. ‘Tell Charlie Dillon to carry this to Captain Brock at full speed,’ he said. ‘Promise to give him a whole sixpence if he can return within an hour to tell you it is in Brock’s hands.’

Foxe was certain that what remained of Bonneviot’s business must soon collapse. If that was true – and Hinman was involved somehow – he would be close at hand, keeping a careful watch on events. Their best hope would then occur when he had to come out of the shadows and stake whatever claim he had to part of Bonneviot’s estate. It sounded simple, but Foxe knew that if Hinman realised he was suspected, he would probably make a run for it.

The letter written and sent, Foxe went in to eat and, afterwards, to sit and consider his next moves. Tomorrow he would concentrate on household matters and the demands of his neglected bookselling business. The next day, as he had promised, he would take the Catt sisters to walk in The Wilderness. They would enjoy the flowers and the company, before returning to dine on whatever fine dishes Mrs. Dobbins would prepare. During all that time, he would, so far as it was possible, forget about Bonneviot. Thus he would keep his promise to Gracie. That should give him the best chance of being able to set a course of action that would bring all to a speedy conclusion.

That the affair must end soon, he was sure. All that worried him was that it should not end with the escape of those who had set it in motion. Nor in a way that would bring harm to thousands of innocent people in the town.

Foxe ate without noticing the taste of the food, then sat in his favourite chair in his study. After another few minutes, Alfred brought word that Charlie had returned to claim his sixpence. All now depended on Brock. Though he did not doubt his friend, his mind would not be at ease until he knew the outcome.

Later, he realised he had no recollection of how he spent the rest of that evening, when he went to his bed or how long he lay awake when he got there. All was a fog, until he awoke to find the sun streaming through a gap in the curtains and Alfred quietly laying out his clothes for the day. No word had come from Brock, Alfred confirmed. Nor could Foxe make up his mind whether that suggested good fortune or ill. And so, still locked in uncertainty, Foxe allowed his routine to guide him during that morning. Did any notice his state of distraction? He could not remember. Did they remark upon it? He did not know. He ate his breakfast, drank his usual dish of coffee without tasting it, looked at his usual newspaper and saw nothing, walked around the Market Place and had no idea who he passed or spoke to. All the while, his mind ran over and over the same problems and possibilities, testing, rearranging, retesting and always coming back to the same answer. He did not know.

Charlie at last brought a written message from Brock early in the afternoon. Alfred gave him tuppence, as usual, but the boy protested that the last errand had been worth sixpence. Besides, he had brought this one too at his fastest pace, so it ought to be worth the same. Gravely, Alfred said he would ask his master. He was affronted by the boy’s cheek.

Foxe laughed and went to the door to speak with Charlie himself.

‘I applaud your businesslike attempt to raise the price, boy, but I warrant you were not asked to apply unusual speed in this case. Now, tuppence is the rate for a letter in the city and tuppence it will remain. Yet here is a penny for your wit in asking. Now, be off, before I find another messenger who will offer me a better price.’

Taking the letter, he returned to his study. Should he read it at once? Would that break the promises he had made, both to himself and to Gracie? In the end, he decided that not reading it would produce too much anxiety. His attempt to clear his head and concentrate on other matters would be at an end.

Brock was, as usual, the soul of brevity. He wrote that he had done all as requested. They had found McSwiggan in a filthy lodging house and would not allow him to slip away. To get close enough to speak with him would need a strong stomach, since he stank like a midden, but it would not be hard to give him drink. It was likely all his money was gone. He would be desperate for any alcohol. Brock’s man would do as Foxe had instructed.

Brock had also tracked Mr. James Hinman to an inn on the road towards Cromer. He was having him watched too. Should he try to slip away, Brock had enough men to follow him – and bring him back, if that was needed.

Next the counterfeiter. Brock could think of only one man able to undertake the kind of work Foxe specified. That was Joshua Underhill. He was once a clerk in a fine legal office. Then his taste for gambling on horse races caused him to develop the skill to produce forged letters of credit drawn on the partners’ bankers. Nowadays, his business was writing letters and documents for those who could not afford the services of a proper lawyer. Brock was sure he had both the skill and the dishonesty to turn his hand to anything for enough cash.

Finally, Brock asked whether Foxe would expect him to visit him in the gaol when whatever deception he had in mind was discovered.

The man could never resist a clever remark, Foxe thought. Still, he had done all that had been asked and might be forgiven for it. Best of all, he had set Foxe’s mind at rest. Provided the weather remained fair, the outing with Kitty and Gracie tomorrow should be a most pleasant affair.