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Authors: Edward Marston

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Historical

The Parliament House (34 page)

BOOK: The Parliament House
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    'I had a feeling that might be the offence.'

    'It all arose out of a scene in one of Cuthbert's plays,' said Farwell, blandly. 'You may have seen mention of the performance in the newspaper. Sir Julius was attacked with unabated savagery, I hear, and several Members were there to witness the wicked satire. When they reported what they had seen to the rest of us, we could not help laughing at Sir Julius Seize-Her - his name in the play, apparently - as he entered the chamber. The whole place was consumed with mirth.'

    'That must have made him smoulder.'

    'He turned bright red and stormed out of the House.'

    'I can picture it well, Maurice,' said Golland, 'and I have no pity for him. He's brought all his troubles upon himself.'

    'This may be the last time he does that.'

    'What does the law dictate?'

    'A death penalty has been imposed in the past.'

    'His Majesty could show leniency.'

    'Yes,' said Farwell, 'he could, and I hope, for my part, that he does. We need one or two politicians like Sir Julius Cheever. His chances, however, are not good.'

    'He has too many enemies on the Privy Council.'

    'When all is said and done, Orlando, we hold the major offices of state. We advise His Majesty and we make all the decisions affecting the people of this country. To threaten one of us is a rash thing to do,' he said. 'To challenge a Privy Councillor to a duel and thereby seek his life is even more impulsive. In pleading for clemency, I suspect that I may well be a lone voice.'

    'If he came up in front of me, I'd pronounce him guilty.'

    'Is that a judicial or a personal opinion?'

    'I never let my personal opinions influence me,' said Golland, pompously. 'I assess each case on its merits then make an objective judgement. In this instance - though I would have to study the relevant statute beforehand, naturally - the outcome is unavoidable. Sir Julius was bent on taking the life of Cuthbert, Earl of Stoneleigh.'

    'He was provoked, Orlando.'

    'He should not have yielded to provocation.'

    'Sir Julius is hot-blooded,' said Farwell. 'You must make some allowance for that.' 'None at all,' said Golland, dogmatically. 'A man should learn to control himself at all times. It's what I do. I never lose my temper.'

    'You must have solid ice in your veins. Unless one of your horses is running in a race, of course. Then you can actually show passion. Disciplined passion, Orlando.'

    'As you wish.'

    Farwell touched Golland on the arm by way of a farewell. 'It's good to talk to you, Orlando, but I must get back. We have a committee meeting in half-an-hour. By the way,' he said, casually, 'how is Dorothy? This news must have shaken her.'

    'It did. In time, she'll come to perceive that it was good news for her. At the moment, however, she still has emotional ties to Sir Julius. For that reason, Dorothy is suffering.'

    'Your sister was always soft-hearted.'

    'It's a weakness I've pointed out on many occasions.'

    'An attractive weakness,' said Farwell with affection. 'I've not seen Dorothy for ages, not since our visit to Newmarket, in fact. You and she must call on us some time.'

    'Thank you, Maurice. We'll take up that invitation. When this whole business is settled.'

    'Yes, it might be sensible to wait.'

    'The fate of Sir Julius Cheever weighs down on her. Until he is dispatched, Dorothy will pine for him. She is not good company at the moment. It would be wrong of me to inflict her upon you.'

    'Pass on my warmest regards.'

    'I will, Maurice.'

    'And assure her that at least one member of the Privy Council will be speaking up for her friend. Sir Julius can count on my vote.'

    

    

        It was Jacob who saw him first. Old as he was, his eyes remained sharp and his instincts keen. Since his income was more regular now, Christopher also employed a youth to do all the menial chores but it was Jacob who still ran the house and watched over his master with paternal care. He raised the alarm at once.

    'There's someone outside, Mr Redmayne,' he said.

    'There are hundreds of people outside, Jacob. Fetter Lane is always busy People come and go all day.'

    'But they do not stand still in the same place.'

    'What do you mean?' asked Christopher.

    'I noticed him when I showed your brother in, and again when I showed him out. He was still there when Mr Bale left.' 'So?'

    'He's keeping the house under surveillance.'

    'Surely not.'

    'See for yourself, Mr Redmayne,' advised the servant.

    Christopher went over to the front window and, standing well back so that he would not be observed from the street, he peered out. Two coaches were passing in opposite directions to obscure his view. When they had vanished, he saw a figure lurking in a doorway that was diagonally opposite. The man was pretending to show no particular interest in Christopher's house but, every so often, he tossed it a look. Jacob stood at his master's shoulder.

    'Well, sir?'

    'As always, Jacob, you are right.'

    'Would you like me to scare him away?' offered the other.

    'No,' said Christopher. 'I want to know who he is and why he's there. Jonathan warned me that this might happen.'

    'What, sir?'

    'Never you mind.'

    Christopher did not want to alarm Jacob. If he confided his fears, the old man would worry. He hated the thought that his master could be in any danger. Christopher welcomed the appearance of the stranger. If someone was concerned about the way that the murder investigation was going, it showed how much he and Bale had achieved. Since he was taking the leading role, Christopher was almost more likely to be a target. He recalled what Bale had said about Erasmus Howlett. The brewer had taken an unduly close interest in the architect. The man outside might well be the result.

    'Fetch my hat, Jacob,' he said. 'I think that I'll take a stroll.'

    'When that fellow is still watching the house?'

    'He'll lose interest in that when he sees me.'

    'That's what I'm afraid of, sir. Let me come with you.'

    'There's no need.'

    'I could ensure your safety,' said Jacob.

    'You'd also frighten the man away,' said Christopher. 'If I'm on my own, he may follow me. With you at my side, he'll be more circumspect and I'll never get to know his business.'

    While Jacob went for his hat, he strapped on his sword belt and slipped his dagger into its sheath. He took another look at the man who was keeping a vigil outside. Wearing nondescript clothes, he was a relatively short individual of stocky build. He wore a dark beard so Christopher could see little of his face beneath the hat. At that distance, it was difficult to put an age on him. Christopher could see that he wore a dagger but there was no sign of a musket or pistol.

    'Goodbye, Jacob,' he said. 'I'll not be long.'

    'Take care, sir.'

    'I always do.'

    Opening the front door, Christopher stepped out and walked towards High Holborn. He did not look in the direction of the man as he passed and gave no indication that he knew he was being followed. He turned the corner and joined the many pedestrians heading east towards Shoe Lane. Strolling along, he sensed that his shadow was not far behind him. He felt safe. An attack was unlikely in such a crowded thoroughfare. To tempt him to make his move, Christopher had to go somewhere more private.

    He soon saw his opportunity. An alleyway zigzagged off to the left, too narrow for coaches, too dark and uninviting for most passers-by. Crossing the road, Christopher turned into the alleyway and lengthened his stride. He was going around the first bend when he heard footsteps scurrying behind him. The ruse had worked. Following the next twist in the lane, he stopped abruptly and flattened himself against the wall. Hurried footsteps now broke into a run.

    Sword drawn, Christopher was ready for him. As the man came running around the bend, the architect stuck out a leg and tripped him up, sending him headfirst into the accumulated refuse on the ground. The man let out a roar of anger and tried to reach for the dagger that had been dashed from his grasp as he hit the hard stone. Christopher’s foot jabbed down on his wrist and he used his sword to flick the dagger out of reach. The point of his weapon also deprived the fallen man of his hat so that he could have a proper look at him. When his would-be attacker attempted to get up, Christopher held his sword at the man's throat.

    'Who sent you?' he demanded.

    'Nobody, sir,' replied the man, feigning innocence.

    'Then why were you watching my house?'

    'What house?'

    'You were hired to kill me,' said Christopher, pricking his neck so that blood trickled down. 'I've every right to kill you in self- defence and that's exactly what I will do if I do not get honest answers.'

    'I'm a thief,' pleaded the other. 'I was only after your purse.'

    'Yes - when you'd slit my throat. Were you the villain who murdered Dan Crothers?' The man started guiltily. 'Yes, I thought that you might be. So you have two crimes to answer at least.'

    Close to desperation, the man began to burble excuses. His eyes darted everywhere. He was about Christopher's own age with a craggy face and long curly hair. Seeing that there was no escape, he appeared to give in. His head hung in shame.

    'I do confess it, sir. I did cut the meat porter's throat.'

    'Who paid you?'

    'A certain lord, sir. He did not give his name.'

    'I think he did,' said Christopher, 'but you are obviously not going to give it to me. I'll take you somewhere where you can be interrogated by people who know how to get the truth out of criminals.' The man glanced downwards. 'Leave the dagger here.'

    All I want is my hat, sir,' said the other. 'May I?'

    Christopher relented. Standing back, he allowed him to stoop down to retrieve his hat. Instead of putting it on his head, however, the man put his hand around the crown and squeezed it tight so that he could grab Christopher's blade without risking injury. At the same time, he leapt up and swung a vicious kick at his groin. Had it connected, Christopher would have been badly hurt but he managed to jump back in time. It was all the leeway that his prisoner needed. Leaving go of the sword, he dropped the hat to the ground and sprinted off down the alleyway. Christopher went after him but he soon abandoned the pursuit. The man had outrun him.

    

    

       'How did you find him, Susan?' asked her sister.

    'Very low.'

    'Did you apologise on my behalf?'

    'Lancelot did that,' said Susan. 'Father understood. He was very embarrassed that we should see him in such a condition. To have you there would only have added to his grief.'

    'What did he say? How can we help him?'

    When they returned from their visit to the Tower, Susan and her brother-in-law were disconsolate. Brilliana was desperate for hopeful news but there was none to give her.

    'Under the circumstances,' said Serle, 'your father is bearing up remarkably well but, then, Sir Julius has always been resilient.'

    'Were you able to offer him any succour?' said his wife.

    'Very little beyond a promise to engage a shrewd lawyer to plead his case. His defence will be that was deliberately incited by that lampoon. The Earl of Stoneleigh tricked him into it.'

    'Why?'

    'Father is a stern critic of all that he stands for,' said Susan. 'The earl is in the Upper House but he has a large following in the Commons. They would all be happy to intrigue against Father.'

    'That's outrageous!' said Brilliana.

    'That's political life, my dear,' her husband pointed out.

    'Then I'm not at all sure that you should enter it, Lancelot. You have too much integrity for such a world. I could not bear the thought that you would be a party to such conspiracies.'

    'Treachery is foreign to my character.'

    'Then you are too good for parliament.'

    'I disagree,' said Susan. 'Goodness is exactly what the place needs. That's why Father was such a breath of fresh air in the chamber and why others flocked to him. He was seen as a good man.'

    'And reviled by the bad ones.'

    'They hold the reins of power, Brilliana, and some of them have been determined to bring Father down. They finally succeeded.'

    'Yes, Susan.'

    'Do not admit defeat yet,' said Serle, firmly. 'If the plot is fully uncovered, Sir Julius will have to be set free. Christopher will be working hard to effect that.'

    'Yet it was he who acted as a second at the duel,' recalled Susan, bitterly. 'He took part in the event that landed Father in the Tower. And he was not the only member of his family to do so.'

BOOK: The Parliament House
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