Read The Scottish Play Murder Online

Authors: Anne Rutherford

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

The Scottish Play Murder (23 page)

BOOK: The Scottish Play Murder
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“Oh, mistress! I was so frightened! I thought for a certainty we were all dead! Did they catch him? Did Matthew and them catch him?”

“I don’t think they did.”

Louis came from outside. He wore only his linens, hung low around his slender young man’s hips, and carried a pike from the properties in one fist. Though it was old, rusty, and rather cheaply made—which made it ideal for the stage—it was weapon enough to chase off a coward. “Are the two of you all right? Did he hurt you any?”

Suzanne stood and pulled her gown around her, then showed him her dagger. “No. I got hold of this before he could.”

“Who was he? Did you know him?”

Suzanne was about to explain about the pirate ship, but thought better of it and said, “No, I don’t know who it was. I don’t know how he got in, either.”

“More than likely he was in the audience last night and stayed behind in the necessary house after the show. Nobody checks the bog, though we should.”

Matthew entered, all huffing and out of breath, also carrying a property pike, as she asked, “How did he get away, then?”

Matthew replied for Louis, “The entrance bolts from the inside and requires no key. He simply dashed past us, unbolted the door, and slipped out, then dashed away down the street in the darkness too quick for us to catch him.”

Suzanne sank to a chair at the table. “Then he’s gotten away. He’s still out there somewhere.” She knew where. Just as he’d known where she lived because she’d stupidly mentioned her theatre, she knew where he would be when she sent someone after him. It was nearly sunrise. Pepper would be in his office in a few hours, and she would be there to put him to work before he could uncork his bottle.

Chapter Sixteen

A
las, she didn’t arrive soon enough. The smell of brandy in Pepper’s office this morning was unusually off-putting. Ordinarily she liked the smell of alcohol, but today was too soon after her experience with the pirate last night and the rum on his breath. Her stomach turned. Suzanne took only shallow breaths and leaned back away from the constable as she described the events of the night before to him. He sipped and smacked his lips as he listened.

When she finished her tale of the assault, he looked at her and said, “And why are you telling me this?”

She sat up straight and raised her chin. “I think you should have him arrested.” She nodded to affirm her words.

“Were you injured?”

“No. I was able to lay hands on a dagger and I chased him out of my apartment.”

“Then there was no harm done to you.”

“I was frightened out of my wits.”

He made a wry face. “A superhuman feat to frighten you, and I doubt any mortal man could hope to rob you of your wits. I say he’s not worth the trouble of prosecuting. From the sound of it, you didn’t get much of a look at him in the dark, and neither did any of your troupe. Being actors, they would not make such credible witnesses in any case.”

Suzanne had been down this path with Pepper before. His laziness was legendary. But today she had an ace up her sleeve. “Dear constable, I understand what a busy man you are, and how you must conserve your resources in order to do your job to the satisfaction of his majesty. But I say to you, there is value in apprehending this pirate.”

“How so?”

“Aside from the fact that he is very much a pirate, he also may very well be the man who killed Henry of Larchford.” It was a bald-faced lie, for which she felt just a twinge of guilt. She knew he couldn’t have killed Larchford if he was in the St. Martin’s lockup at the time, but she also knew it wouldn’t hurt for Pepper to confirm that statement, and this was the only way to get him to arrest the pirate. Besides, who knew what information might be had by such interrogation? It would be a benefit for Pepper to believe the pirate could have killed Larchford.

Pepper was nonplussed for a moment. Well into his bottle, he had to think hard to formulate a reply. Finally he said, “The fourth man, you say?”

“The intruder was one of Santiago’s crew on
Maiden
. I spoke to him yesterday afternoon, and he told me all about how the ship operated in the waters of England, France, and the Mediterranean Sea. They attacked English and Scottish ships, and sold the plunder at the nearest ports. That ship made Larchford wealthy enough to have great influence at court. He confirmed what we already suspected about Larchford’s business, and he told me that Angus was acting as a fence for the ship’s plunder. Santiago had contacts all over Europe and Britain, where he could unload his cargo and never be caught with it. Sometimes at a port, sometimes on a deserted beach frequented by smugglers. He said Santiago and Angus had not been paid well by Larchford and were stupid in their dealings with him, which supports our theory that Larchford killed them when they insisted on more money and threatened him with exposure.”

“You think this pirate is the man who killed Larchford?”

“I couldn’t say for a certainty, but it’s entirely possible. In any case, I’m willing to bet he has better knowledge of who the fourth man is than he has told me. You would be remiss in not questioning him.”

“I agree.” A fire had lit up beneath Pepper, it seemed, and he rose from his chair in a flurry of excitement. His face flushed and he hurried to his overcoat and hat. “Let us fly to the docks and apprehend this miscreant!”

Suzanne also rose and donned her cloak and muff as she considered how easily one could make Pepper do anything so long as one remembered what his priorities were. The man didn’t hate crime so much as he loved approval from the king. The prospect of catching Larchford’s murderer was the only thing that would have convinced Pepper to go out in the cold like this. She followed him, eager to see what would happen to the man who had assaulted her last night.

Pepper hired a carriage for the trip to the docks. He flagged one down in the street outside his office, and climbed in before Suzanne. However, he did think to reach down to help her up once he was seated. She pulled her cloak around her and settled into the seat next to him, and the driver urged the horses to a trot.

A side trip was necessary, to request a contingent of five soldiers to make the arrest. They seemed to be the same five that always accompanied Pepper, and the men seemed accustomed to being under the constable’s command. They piled into and onto the carriage, three in seats opposite Suzanne and Pepper, and the remaining two standing on the outside. Today they were armed with guns rather than pikes, Suzanne imagined for the sake of advantage in the close quarters of the ship belowdecks. The men sat silent, disciplined, looking neither to right nor left as they rode to their mission. Suzanne understood somewhat how the queen must feel, surrounded by guards who were not allowed to speak to her. The smell of wool, leather, oiled steel, and young men filled the carriage in a way Pepper could never have done by himself. Suzanne thought it rather pleasant.

At the dock Pepper directed the carriage driver to take them all the way to the ship
Maiden
and they rolled onto the echoing wood, hooves thumping and wheels rattling, parting the dock workers before them. Suzanne craned her head out the window to find the Dutch “toad,” and spotted it ahead, sitting high and empty on the river’s surface. The soldiers piled out of the carriage near the gangplank, and Suzanne and Pepper followed. Without much ado, Pepper ordered the soldiers up the gangway and to arrest anyone they found aboard. He and Suzanne would remain on the dock. The five soldiers in red coats hurried single file up to the deck, weapons at the ready, and they disappeared through the door at the rear.

Suzanne wished she could go with them. And with a gun in her hand, so that perhaps it could go off accidentally-on-purpose and—
oh, dear
—put a hole in that pirate’s head. It made her pace and tap her foot to wait and not know what was going on belowdecks. Pepper stood quietly, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets and his chin buried in its collar, watching the ship for signs of activity, though there were none. The winter wind buffeted his hat and his wig slipped a little, but he ignored it. Suzanne hugged her muff to her and for the first time wished she’d worn a dress with heavy woolen skirts and linen petticoats rather than breeches and tights that were thin protection against the cold. The wind blew around the hem of her cloak and up her legs. She hunched her shoulders and wished the soldiers would hurry.

She’d thought there might have been a lot of noise involved in arresting a pirate on his own ship. Gunfire, perhaps, or at least some shouting. But she heard nothing until the contingent of redcoats returned to the deck of the ship with the nasty fellow held between two of them. He came quietly, and squinted at the daylight, though the sky was gray with deep overcast. When he saw her waiting on the dock, he stumbled and began to resist, and had to be drawn along by his captors. He dug in his heels, but they lifted him to break his purchase and drew him onward.

When the sailor was near enough to hear, Pepper said to Suzanne, “Is this the man who came to your bedchamber last night, Mistress Thornton?”

“It is,” she replied.

Then he addressed the captive. “Tell us your name, man.”

The pirate looked from him, to Suzanne, then to Pepper again. “What?”

“Tell us your name. You must have a name.”

The idea of refusing to reply flashed across his eyes, but only for a moment. “’Tis Chauncey. Chauncey De Vries.” His voice shook, and his eyes darted from Pepper to Suzanne, to one of the soldiers, then back to Pepper.

“Chauncey De Vries, you are under arrest for piracy, attempted rape, and the murder of Henry, Earl of Larchford.”

“What?”
He resisted afresh and tried to twist away from the soldiers holding him, but they kept a good grip on his arms. Though he dropped all his weight on them and struggled to be free, the soldiers held him up and made him stand on his own feet. “No! I didn’t do it!” He shouted at Suzanne, “Tell ’im! Tell ’im I didn’t do it! You know I didn’t do it! I told you yesterday where I was!”

“Put him in the carriage,” Pepper ordered the soldiers. They complied, and Pepper looked askance at Suzanne regarding what the pirate had said. She replied with only a shrug, as if she had no idea what he might be talking about. Pepper let it go, and Suzanne was glad of that. He wouldn’t be pleased later on once he learned of De Vries’s excellent alibi, but by then he would be invested enough to charge him with last night’s assault for the sake of justifying the arrest. It wouldn’t matter that he’d not killed Larchford.

They all took their seats in the carriage, De Vries sitting between two soldiers opposite Pepper and Suzanne. He stared death at her the entire way to the lockup, and she pretended not to notice by keeping her gaze out the window. He was on his way to an interrogation, and though she knew he was innocent of the charge of murder, he was quite guilty of both piracy and attempted rape. She was not the least bit sorry for his predicament.

At the lockup, De Vries was taken into a barred room for questioning. At first Pepper wasn’t going to let Suzanne inside. He blocked her path to the door and lowered his voice for a private exchange.

“This isn’t for a woman to watch.” There was an
of course
tone in his voice. He seemed to assume she would agree.

She did not. In her best
don’t be silly
tone, she said, “I’m no woman, Constable. I’m an old tart. There isn’t much you can do to him that would be any worse than what’s been done to me at one time or another. In my life I’ve been raped and robbed, insulted and slandered, I’ve had bones broken and my lip split, I’ve starved, I’ve been left in the cold, and I gave birth in a whorehouse, surrounded by people who didn’t care much whether I or my baby survived. This man tried to kill me last night. You must understand I’m no sheltered lady likely to cry foul when you press him with violence.”

“You had some misgivings over our approach to Lady Larchford.”

“Of course I had misgivings. Lady Larchford has never pointed a loaded pistol at my head nor threatened to rape me or murder me. Nor, to the best of my knowledge, has she ever done so to anyone else. By all indications, the poor woman never even knew of her husband’s involvement in criminal activity. This miscreant in that room is a pirate and has admitted to plundering British ships. This nefarious fellow has quite sown what he is about to reap.”

Pepper thought that over, then nodded and gestured she should join him and the soldiers in the room with the prisoner.

The interrogation room was not large. It had but one window for light, high on the wall and barred with iron slightly larger in diameter than her thumb. A rough wooden table stood in the center of the floor, and four chairs without arms, two on either side. De Vries had been placed in one of the chairs and his wrists shackled to the table with thick iron cuffs secured with a key lock and attached with an iron chain of heavy links. His feet were likewise shackled to an eyebolt in the floor, on a short, heavy chain that allowed no movement. Pepper took a chair on the other side of the table, and gestured to Suzanne she should take a seat in the corner, in a heavy armchair. So she was pleased enough to sit, a fly on the wall of these proceedings. Three of the five soldiers in Pepper’s contingent stood against the wall, their arquebuses at ready, while the remaining two took up posts outside the door. They closed and locked it from that side.

“All right, then,” said Pepper as he adjusted his breeches for the sake of comfort on the hard wooden chair. “De Vries, you know why you’re here.”

The pirate threw an evil, sideways glance toward Suzanne. Because of his alibi, they both knew the murder was not the real issue, and there was insufficient evidence against him for a charge of piracy. He wouldn’t be there except for the assault on Suzanne. “Aye, I do.”

“Then you understand that you’re in a great deal of trouble.”

“I didn’t do no murder. And she knows it.” He pointed at Suzanne with his bearded chin. “I told her yesterday I was in the St. Martin’s lockup when Larchford was murdered.”

Pepper turned to give Suzanne a long, querying look, and she only shrugged. Then he gestured to one of the soldiers and had a low, brief conversation with him. Then the soldier left the room. Pepper addressed the prisoner. “Yes, well, we’ll send a messenger to St. Martin’s to have a look at the records there for that date. If your name appears, then you’ll be cleared and no harm done. But until he returns, I think I’d like to have a little chat about your actions of last night.”

“Last night? Why, I was asleep on the ship. All night, I were.” Now he wouldn’t look at Suzanne at all.

Pepper sat back. “I think that’s a lie, not to put too fine a point on it. So let us take another run at this. Tell me, De Vries, where were you last night, in the middle of the night? Oh . . . at about four in the morning?” Suzanne had no idea what hour it had been, beyond that the sun had risen not long after.

BOOK: The Scottish Play Murder
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