The Midwife and the Assassin (24 page)

“Are you truly such a coward?” Katherine demanded. “My husband—your friend!—was murdered, and you would simply stand aside?”

“Katherine, please listen,” Goodkey said. “You must heed me. It is for your own safety. You have no idea what this man will do if you threaten him.”

“Get thee behind me, Satan,” Katherine spat. “And get out of my sight.”

“Katherine, you must hear me!”

“You came here to woo me, and now you betray me?” Katherine's voice had risen to a shout that, I had no doubt, was audible to her neighbors. She did not care.

Goodkey stared at her in astonishment. “Woo you?”

“What, you thought I would not recognize the true nature of your friendship?” Katherine asked. “You think a widow does not know the difference between a friend in mourning and a suitor in search of a wealthy widow? Jeremiah Goodkey, you are as subtle as a carrion kite, circling a fresh corpse. And now you are just as welcome. Get out of my house.” Katherine punctuated these last words with slaps aimed at Goodkey's head.

Faced with Katherine's fury, and now her outright assault, Goodkey covered his head with his arms, scuttled to the door, and fled down the stairs. I did not know for sure, but I suspected that he left without his coat.

Katherine turned to me, her eyes still blazing. “Such a one! Can you believe such cowardice?” She took a breath and tried to recover herself. “You'll stand with me, won't you, Bridget? You will help me find out who killed my Daniel. You will help me have my revenge.”

“Of course I will,” I replied. Katherine was my gossip and needed my help. What else could I do?

“Good,” she replied, satisfaction evident in her voice. “So what does this new murder tell us?”

“There is more to Enoch Harrison's murder than I told you,” I said. “He was no ordinary merchant, and this was no ordinary murder.”

“What do you mean?”

“He owned a gunpowder mill, and he was Cromwell's chief supplier,” I said. “And after killing Harrison, the murderer stole enough powder to blast the Tower of London to its foundations.”

Katherine thought for a moment. “But what does this have to do with Daniel's death? He was a coat-maker.”

“And a spy for Oliver Cromwell,” I pointed out.

Katherine winced at this reminder. “You think Daniel was killed because he discovered the plot to steal the gunpowder?”

“It is possible,” I said. “The question is who did it.”

“The Royalists,” Katherine said. “It must have been. This Italian you mentioned, Bacca, he could be behind this.”

“Aye, he could be,” I said. “Or it might have been Jeremiah Goodkey.”

Katherine considered this for a moment. “You think he was here not to woo me, but to find out what we had learned about Daniel's murder?” Katherine smiled wanly. “Am I so unhandsome? Truly Bridget, you do me wrong.”

“I am sure his wooing was genuine,” I said with a laugh. “But we must keep our eyes open to all possibilities. Cromwell has many enemies, and such a quantity of gunpowder would allow any one of them to do much mischief.”

“The Levellers have no such plans,” Katherine said. “If they did I would know it.”

That is why Mr. Marlowe sent me here
, I thought.

“Perhaps,” I said. “But it would be dangerous to assume too much. And it was Goodkey who warned you to give up the hunt for Daniel's murderer, not a Royalist.”

Katherine nodded. “Very well. We will keep watch on both parties. What shall we do now?”

“Let us talk about this at my tenement,” I replied. “Martha should be a part of our discussion.”

As we crossed the street, I realized that if Katherine and I were going to continue our search for the murderer, I would have to tell her some of the truth about my past. We reached my parlor, and I looked in on Martha. She was snoring softly, so I closed the door before joining Katherine at the table. I took Katherine's hands before I began to speak. “I must tell you something. And you must hear me to the end.”

Katherine looked confused but nodded. I had earned her forbearance.

“Years ago, in a different lifetime really, it fell to me to discover another murderer.”

Katherine started to respond but stopped herself. She nodded for me to continue.

“My friend was falsely accused of murdering her husband and sentenced to die. She asked for my help. I discovered the truth and saw justice done. At that time, I believed the law was good and justice was its ultimate goal.

“But in the years that followed,” I continued, “I saw the innocent suffer and the guilty go free. I saw cruel men prosper, and it dawned on me that they did so not
despite
the law but
because
of the law. I realized the law was a tool like any other, a knife that could be used by a barber-surgeon to lance a boil or by a murderer to cut a throat.”

“I have been preaching this for years,” Katherine said.

“But unlike you, I became a part of the evil that I beheld,” I said. “I used the law to my own ends, and I did so with the same pitiless heart that I condemned in others. I saw men hanged without the benefit of a trial, and used the law to murder a man who was evil but innocent.”

Katherine stared at me, struck dumb for the first time since I'd known her.

“I became what I abhorred,” I said. “But I will not do it again. If we find the man who killed Daniel, I will not be a part of your revenge. You will have to trust in the law.”

“You are an unusual woman, even for a midwife,” Katherine said at last.

“And you only know the half of it.” Martha stood in the doorway. I knew from the look on her face that she'd heard everything. “But she should keep the rest of the story to herself, for your good and ours.”

“If that is true, I'll not ask you to speak another word,” Katherine said. “Even good gossips should have their secrets.”

I nodded my thanks.

“As for the fate of Daniel's murderer,” Katherine said. “You'll get no argument from me. If we find him, we will hand him over to the Justices.”

“That is easy to say,” I replied. “But what song will you sing if we discover the murderer is beyond the law's reach? Whoever killed Daniel may have powerful protectors.”

Katherine considered the question for a time. “You are asking if I will resort to murder to avenge Daniel's death.”

I nodded.

“I will not. The Levellers' goal is to remedy the law, not to destroy it. If everyone ignored the law when it did not suit them, we would have no law at all. I know it sounds cold, but Daniel would understand.” She paused for a moment. “If I cannot reach Daniel's murderer through the law, I will simply redouble my efforts to reform it. And if that fails, I will rely on the Lord to provide justice in His own time.”

“Then it is agreed,” I said. “We will help.”

Martha sat down with us, and I told them both of all that had happened: Enoch Harrison's murder, the theft of the gunpowder, and—for Martha's benefit—Jeremiah Goodkey's clumsy effort to convince Katherine to give up her search for Daniel's murderer.

“Where does this leave us?” Martha asked. “How far have we come?”

“Not far, I'm afraid,” I said. “Mr. Harrison might have been killed by the Royalists—whether Charles Owen, Lorenzo Bacca, or some man we do not even suspect. Or he might have been killed by one of the Levellers, perhaps Jeremiah Goodkey. The only faction we can look past is Cromwell's, for they had no reason to kill their own gunpowder merchant.”

“Can you be so sure about Cromwell's people?” Katherine asked. “What if Mr. Harrison was part of some other plot, and died for reasons we cannot begin to guess? What if the murders are not as closely connected as they seem?”

“You mean that there is one murderer but two motives?” Martha asked.

“It is possible,” Katherine replied. “In these days anything is possible.”

We sat in melancholy silence as we tried to find a path forward in our search for Daniel's killer. I could not see what good a new round of questioning would do us. Neither Charles Owen nor Jeremiah Goodkey would suddenly confess to Daniel's murder simply because we asked a second time. We would have to be more creative than that.

The sound of uneven footsteps rushing up the stairs announced Will's arrival even before he appeared at our door, and his hurried pace made clear he'd brought urgent news. He burst into the room without knocking.

“Aunt Bridget! Martha! You must hurry.” He looked in surprise at Katherine. “Oh, Mrs. Chidley. Three midwives? That is convenient indeed.”

“What is it?” Martha asked.

“Margaret Harrison has gone into labor,” he said. “She is feverish and nonsensical, but she has confessed to her father's murder.”

The three of us stared at Will, slack-jawed and full of wonder. How was this possible?

“Mr. Marlowe sent me for you,” Will said. “He wants you to deliver her.”

Blood drained from Will's face as soon as the words passed his lips. He looked at Katherine, fully aware of his monumental blunder. “What I mean is—” he started to say.

Katherine turned to me, fury evident on her face. “
Jonathan Marlowe
sent for you?” she asked. “How is it that you know Mr. Marlowe? And why would he send for
you
?”

As I struggled for an answer, Katherine's anger boiled over. “You are one of Cromwell's spies!” she cried. “You were sent here by that tyrant to spy on me and mine!”

“And how do you know that Mr. Marlowe's Christian name is Jonathan?” Martha asked softly. “When we told you of Daniel's work for Cromwell, you professed surprise. You pretended that you had no idea who Mr. Marlowe was.”

In an instant, Martha's question robbed Katherine of her righteous fury. If she knew Marlowe's name, she must have known that Daniel was in his service.

“It seems we both have some explaining to do,” Katherine said at last.

“Yes, that is fine, but not now,” Will insisted. “Right now you must attend Margaret Harrison. A physician is with her, and he is quite concerned.”

“Very well.” Katherine turned to me. “Do you have your valise and stool?”

I recognized the true meaning of her question. By offering to let me take the lead in delivering Margaret Harrison, she proffered an olive branch. “I do,” I said, and bowed my head in thanks.

The four of us hurried down the stairs and into the fading afternoon light.

“Where are we going?” I asked. We were following the same route to Margaret Harrison's travail that we had taken to her father's corpse.

“To Mr. Harrison's,” Will replied. “That is where she lives.”

It took a moment, but I realized what Will had just told us. “A few minutes ago you called her Margaret Harrison,” I said. “And she lives with her father?”

“Aye,” Will said. “What of it?”

“Margaret is pregnant with a bastard?” Katherine said.

“Well, yes,” Will replied. He was clearly confused by our interest in the child's legitimacy.

“Is she betrothed?” Martha asked. “How has the father not been made to marry her?” It was a strange thing for the daughter of a wealthy merchant to find herself bearing a bastard.

“I have no idea,” Will replied. To his mind, the question was irrelevant.

I did not know what it meant, but between Margaret's unlikely pregnancy and her strange confession, it was clear that more was going on in the Harrison household than we had realized. The only question was whether such strange doings would lead us to Enoch Harrison's murderer.

We hurried up the steps to the Harrisons' front door and entered. Will led us up another set of stairs to a bedchamber where we found quite a crowd: Margaret Harrison, a maidservant, Mr. Marlowe, a man I took to be a physician, and Tom Reynolds. The moment I saw Tom, my stomach tilted to one side and then the other, as if I were on a storm-tossed ship. I counted it a blessing I did not cast up my dinner.

Tom and I made a show of formality in greeting each other, but I did not think it would have fooled even the most credulous child. I could only hope nobody cared enough to notice.

“Out, out, out,” Katherine cried out as soon as we entered the room. “None of you men need to be here.”

Will and Tom had the good sense to listen, slipping out of the room, but Marlowe and the physician looked at Katherine in confusion.

“This is women's business,” I said, joining Katherine in herding them toward the door. “You'll not be a part of it.”

While Mr. Marlowe bleated his objections even as he was driven from the room, the physician looked quite relieved to be removed from his post.

“Very well,” Mr. Marlowe said at last, looking at Katherine and me. “But I must speak to the two of you before you begin your work.”

Katherine and I glanced at each other. I nodded and turned to Martha. “Stay with her,” I said.

“I will see to it,” Martha said.

Katherine and I followed Marlowe into the hall. I caught a glimpse of the physician as he fled down the stairs, leaving Will, Tom, and Mr. Marlowe behind.

“What is it?” I asked. “If the girl's travail is as dire as Will said, we should see to her.”

Marlowe glared at Katherine and me before responding. “For the moment I'll leave aside the question of how you
both
came to be here. But I suppose I should have expected that you would discover each other eventually.”

“You have spies for your spies?” I asked.

“It is better to be sure,” Marlowe said with more than a hint of pride.

“If we
hadn't
discovered it, we would be poor spies indeed,” Katherine said.

Tom laughed before being silenced by a poisonous look from Mr. Marlowe.

Marlowe turned back to Katherine and inclined his head, conceding her point. “Whatever the case, you must question the girl about her father when she is in travail.”