A Verse to Murder

by Peter Tonkin

  ‘Are they indeed? That is strange, for I sent them no pie.’ Lady Audrey frowned slightly. ‘What makes you think it came from my kitchens, Tom?’

  ‘I recognised the men that brought it, Lady Audrey. They are from the household here.’

  Lady Audrey looked at Sir Thomas. The silver bell chimed once more.

  ‘Bates,’ said Lady Audrey when the butler arrived immediately, ‘did we send a pie to Master Musgrave this evening?’

  ‘Indeed we did, My Lady. Cook made one for the household and another, as ordered, to be sent to Master Musgrave.’

  ‘Who ordered the second pie?’

  ‘Why, you did My Lady. I was there when the message arrived, together with the extra fishes straight from Billingsgate.’

  Lady Audrey looked at Sir Thomas. His eyebrows rose. She turned to Bates again. ‘And who delivered this message and the extra lampreys?’

  Tom answered before Bates could: ‘It was Kate, Lady Audrey. It could only have been Kate.’

  ‘And so it was indeed, Master Musgrave,’ Bates confirmed. ‘Miss Kate brought Lady Audrey’s message and the great basket of lampreys fresh from Billingsgate wharf herself.’

  ‘I see,’ said Sir Thomas, though his tone made it abundantly clear that he did not see at all. ‘I am at a loss to explain this in any way. I had no knowledge that Kate was out. She had not approached me for money - and lampreys are ruinously expensive items. Audrey, had she come to you?’

  Lady Audrey simply shook her head, her lovely face folded in a frown of confusion to match her husband’s.

  ‘Bates, if you could ask the Lady Kate to spare us a moment or two…’ said Sir Thomas.

  ‘Of course, Sir Thomas.’ Bates bowed and exited.

  ‘So, Tom,’ said Lady Audrey. ‘What is this about a lamprey pie?’

  ‘My Lady,’ asked Tom gently in reply, ‘are you aware of the part played by lampreys in the history of our kings and queens?’

  Lady Audrey, like both Queen Elizabeth of England and Queen Ann of Scotland, not to mention a good number of their ladies in waiting, was very well educated. She knew her English history and her Holinshed as well as she knew her Plutarch and her Homer. ‘Was it not Henry the First,’ she asked, ‘who had troubles with Archbishop Anselm of Canterbury - though as nothing compared with those of Henry the Second and Archbishop Becket. But when Henry the First died, he is reputed to have done so through consuming a surfeit of lampreys?’

  ‘Just so, Lady Audrey,’ said Tom.

  ‘A coincidence, surely?’ said Sir Thomas.

  ‘I think not, Sir Thomas. There has been a great deal of focus on various Kings called Henry of late.’ Tom glanced across at Will. ‘And, although not at the centre of things, this last gesture is perhaps the most telling.’

  ‘In what way?’ asked Sir Thomas, his intellect as clearly engaged now as that of Lady Audrey.

  But before Tom could answer, Bates was back, his normally open face folded in a frown. ‘Miss Kate is not in her rooms, sir, though her waiting gentlewomen say all of her clothes are there, including the dress she wore to dinner this evening. Still warm, apparently. But none of them have been summoned to help Miss Kate get changed. Furthermore, Sir Thomas, your personal valet is in a state of outrage because your private garderobes have been opened and rifled.’

  iii

  ‘Lock the doors and search the house!’ snapped Sir Thomas. ‘I want Miss Kate found! Meanwhile, Tom, will you kindly tell me what all this is about. And don’t tell me it’s all about lampreys!’

  ‘Very well, Sir Thomas,’ said Tom. ‘Let us begin with something else.’ He turned to face not only his host but also Poley and the Lady Audrey who stood beside him. ‘Which of you set Kate to spy on Raleigh? I take it for granted that Sir Francis Bacon is beginning to waver in his support of the Earl of Essex and provides intelligence from Essex House and I suppose that Lord Robert Cecil, being the spider at the heart of this web, is competent to keep a close watch on himself while he sets Poley here to keep close watch on everybody else except, perhaps Sir Walter. But which of you set Kate to watch on Durham House and its master when Mother Hubberd’s Tale began to stir up trouble for the men newly lampooned within it?’

  ‘Lord Robert suggested it,’ admitted Poley after a brief pause. He looked across at Sir Thomas. ‘I had no contacts either in Durham House or in the School of Night.’

  ‘And I expedited it,’ Sir Thomas admitted. ‘I gave it my blessing at least. Lady Audrey and I discussed it with each-other and with Kate herself. We needed her close to Sir Walter - but not too close.’

  ‘Close enough, however, to gauge his reactions should his standing at court begin to suffer as a result of the satire - would he contact the Infanta in Spain in the same way that you, through Lady Audrey, are in contact with Queen Ann in Scotland. Or would he instead lean towards Lady Arbella Stewart in his attempts to shore up his future under the new monarchy should the Queen banish him once again in the short-term - while she was still alive, at least?’

  ‘Just so,’ nodded Sir Thomas.

  ‘But Kate’s work would have been complicated by the involvement of The School of Night - though they hate that name and refuse to use it of themselves. And especially the involvement of Simon Forman, to whom Raleigh - and eventually Kate herself - increasingly frequently referred, seeking assurances as to the future. And I suspect that it was there, at Forman’s house in Billingsgate, that things began to go seriously wrong. For there is no doubt in my mind that Kate became besotted with Sir Walter and he with her. Like Romeo and Juliet in Will’s play; or rather, perhaps, like Antony and Cleopatra out of Plutarch.

  ‘While Lady Raleigh was in London for the Christmas season their liaisons remained chaste - at least I hope so, for I was Kate’s lover at that time as well. But immediately Lady Raleigh left, their affair became much more intense - nearly all-consuming. Kate visited my bed only once thereafter and that was at least in part through a love potion I had given her, while she spoke of guilt and punishment as much as she spoke of love.’

  ‘If this is true then it was madness!’ said Lady Audrey. ‘Sir Walter lost the Queen’s favour once through his affair with Bess Throckmorton the best part of ten years ago. How many years did it take him to regain it? Seven? Eight? If Her Majesty ever found out he was deep in an affair with Kate she would expel him and never forgive him. It would ruin him.’

  *

  ‘My point precisely,’ said Tom. ‘They carried on their liaisons at Forman’s house, therefore, rather than at Durham House or his house at Blackwall - Kate leaving by accident a love-token such as one she once wore of mine after she bathed there, to wit a lock of hair bound with a ribbon. But this was not my hair - it was Sir Walter’s, though it took me long enough to fathom whose it was and reason where it came from.’

  ‘So,’ said Poley, ‘they carried on their dangerous liaison. But they did so in secret. With no-one any the wiser, they were safe enough.’

  ‘Or they were to begin with,’ said Tom. ‘Only Forman - and perhaps Chapman - were aware of the truth. Forman reliant on Sir Walter to stand between him and the witch finder should King James ascend the throne; Chapman perennially bankrupt and starving - reliant on Sir Walter for life itself. But then, by accident, everything changed.’

  ‘How so?’ asked Sir Thomas. He looked up at Lady Audrey and across at Poley. If they had worked out the truth, they chose to keep it to themselves. ‘Spenser visited Forman without warning; unannounced. Frustrated by the constant delay he met at the Council, suspicious that he had made a terrible mistake in republishing Mother Hubberd, and growing ever more concerned about the state of his wife and children in Cork, he went to see whether Forman and his occult predictions could reassure or even guide him. And instead of the assistance he had hoped for, he discovered Kate and Sir Walter in flagrante, and so he signed his death warrant.’

  ‘That’s it?’ demanded Sir Thomas. ‘That’s all? Nothing, really, to do with the satiric verse, with the Fox
and the Ape, with the Irish question, with enemies coveting his lands and income, with his proposals to starve O’Neil and his people into submission? They killed him just because he found them fornicating?’

  ‘Both Spenser and the lad Hal. Both just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that was all it took. But you see, it all played a part; everything you have just itemised from the poem to the proposal - just not the part we supposed at first.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Sir Thomas. ‘Let’s take this a little more slowly. Whatever his reason for going there, Spenser found Kate and Raleigh at Forman’s house…’

  ‘Probably in Forman’s bedroom,’ agreed Tom.

  ‘Very well, if you say so,’ said Sir Thomas. ‘He discovered them in Forman’s bedroom. What then?’

  ‘He would have promised never to reveal their secret,’ said Tom. ‘Sworn on everything he considered holy - on the lives of his wife and remaining children as like as not. But the suspicion would be there in their minds that he would give their secret away - to Essex, to the Council, to Sir Thomas here - to anyone who could profit through Raleigh’s downfall. Either on purpose or by accident.’

  ‘But they did not act at once…’ observed Lady Audrey.

  ‘They trusted him, My Lady; or Raleigh did at least. Raleigh and he were old acquaintances. Their lands were close to each-others in Ireland. He had given his word as one honourable gentleman to another…’

  ‘But then something happened to upset their trust,’ said Poley. ‘What could have done that?’

  ‘The Queen and Council did it,’ said Tom.

  ‘The Queen and Council?’ demanded Sir Thomas. ‘How so? What did they do?’

  ‘They gave Spencer his thirty pieces of silver,’ said Tom. ‘His £50 pension. In gold. In a purse. What else were Raleigh and Kate to think? He had sold their secret and unless he could be silenced, they were on the verge of ruin!’

  iv

  ‘But he hadn’t sold anything, surely,’ said Lady Audrey.

  ‘That is true but they didn’t know it,’ said Tom. ‘So they took action at once, perhaps without thinking the matter through.’

  ‘You keep saying “they”,’ said Poley.

  Tom was silent for a moment. Then, ‘You are right,’ he admitted. ‘I should have said “she”.’

  ‘“She” being Kate,’ whispered Lady Audrey.

  ‘Kate was an habitué of Forman’s, her visits frequent - both as observed by Poley’s pursuivant watchers and in secret through the garden they never watched. No doubt on many occasions, while awaiting her lover, she learned a good number of the secrets the astrologer was keeping as well as some of the treatments the herbalist was discussing. He kept a journal and recorded everything in it - even his own liaisons. Spenser came to him for pain-relief as well as for more occult guidance but must have told Forman that he also saw John Gerard, no doubt giving some details about his hurt - and how he could often taste the medicines designed to heal his ear in the back of his throat. While detailing of course, what those medicines were. As fate would have it, both Gerard’s daughter Bess and his apprentice Hal were also occasional visitors - she legitimately though without her parents knowledge and he through burglary in search of her at first and then of her birth chart. These were the very people who were treating Spenser. And so Kate’s plan was drawn, with or without Raleigh’s knowledge or approval.’

  ‘With or without? Are you sure?’ asked Sir Thomas.

  ‘I have assessed the details time and again since the pattern began to come together and I can see no necessity of his involvement. Once it becomes clear that Kate was the prime mover, his participation becomes questionable to say the least. We know how Raleigh goes about killing. He might set his fencing tutor on to confront me when my suspicions started to become clear, arriving in secret to observe my execution - and with Kate at my window watching him. But when that failed he set about killing me himself. He kills with blades and face to face for the most part. I cannot see him using poison. Had he decided to kill Spenser he would likely have contrived a confrontation, an insult - a duel. Even the playwright Ben Jonson got away with that.’

  ‘Poison is a woman’s weapon,’ observed Lady Audrey. ‘Think of Lucrezia Borgia, Julia Tofana…’

  ‘It was in this case, My Lady. On the night of Friday the 12th, she took desperate action. She knew where Forman’s poisons were. She took hemlock and sped through the storm to Gerard’s where she knew Spenser would be at the end of his long day waiting at White Hall. She saw Spenser being treated and waited until he had left. Covering her face with her scarf she bought more poisons in the name of Will Shakespeare.’ He turned to his wide-eyed friend. ‘Avenging, as she thought, Will, your anathematising of her beloved Raleigh’s circle of poets and philosophers as the School of Night. Then she followed Spenser to King Street, observed him consuming Kentish ale in such quantities as Gerard advised against. Saw him stagger drunkenly up to bed. Followed him on silent feet, managed to remove his bandage so she could pour her hemlock into his ear. And so the deed was done.’

  ‘And the apprentice, Hal?’ asked Lady Audrey. ‘Did Kate kill him too?’

  *

  ‘Ah. Now that, I believe, was Sir Walter, though Kate may well have been with him. They must have heard Hal breaking in and disquieting the parrots outside the kitchen which make a shocking noise if disturbed. While he was downstairs, they ran up to the occult room to hide, perhaps taking clothing with them - but perhaps not. But Hal’s inquisitiveness was aroused - he found the birth chart and tucked it into his jerkin, he saw the bed chamber and felt stirring in his codpiece. He thought perhaps even greater excitements lay higher still. He climbed the stair, he opened the door and discovered - Sir Walter Raleigh framed in the portal with Kate close behind no doubt. He stepped back. Felt himself falling. Reached out automatically and caught some of Raleigh’s hair. Raleigh could not - or did not - save him. The hair tore out and was closed in the poor boy’s fist as he fell to his death.

  ‘I assume the bath had been filled with hot water to allow the lovers to wash after their love-making. They put Hal in it instead as they cleaned up. Raleigh would eventually mend the bannisters with the sailor’s knot that reminded Rosalind of a hangman’s noose. In the mean-time, when they were finished in the house, they put Hal in Forman’s privy. When he returned he took over the task of getting rid of Hal while agreeing with Kate’s scheme to leave poor Will as a major suspect in the matter. So he and Chapman concocted the poem and the dagger pinning it in place. They used Sir Walter’s good offices and, no doubt, the cutter from one of his vessels docked off Deptford to transport the corpse to West Minster then the cutter’s crew carried it on up into Spenser’s grave; one of them, not very expertly picking the lock on the Great North Door. It was from that grave, by another twist of irony, Kate herself helped us move Hal later that same night, all without showing any surprise or horror for of course she felt none. That adventure was the price she paid for coming to find out from me how my investigation was proceeding. And at that stage it all seemed to be proceeding quietly. Essex had called on Forman to assess the body. Forman announced that he saw nothing wrong of course. Kate must have told Raleigh where Hal’s corpse had ended up but, apart from checking the corpse and leaving the lid of the tomb open an inch, there was nothing they could do. But Kate’s attempt to involve Will blew up in her face like a sapper destroyed by his own mine. The rumour she started that poison - purchased by Will here - had been involved in Spenser’s death reached the Queen’s ears courtesy of gossip arising from the funeral Essex had arranged for him. And suddenly a guilty party was required. Her Majesty had to be satisfied or Essex could not go to Ireland - and Essex in Ireland is something upon which almost everyone has some hope of a great fortune riding.’

  Tom had no sooner stopped speaking than Bates threw the door open and staggered into the room. Walter Raleigh strode in behind him, rapier drawn. ‘Where is she?’ Raleigh demanded.

  ‘We don’t know, S
ir Walter,’ answered Tom, as though this were an everyday occurrence. ‘She is, we believe, still somewhere about the house most likely dressed in man’s attire.’

  That brought Raleigh up sharp. But only for a moment. ‘We must find her,’ he said. ‘I have arranged matters as she wanted, but we must be quick!’

  Tom looked back at Sir Thomas who was still seated at his desk, as though frozen with surprise. But as the Master of Logic looked past the spymaster, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

  There, flat across the window, as though painted upon the glass, was a flag. It was a square of cloth with edges of more than a yard long. A cross of St George stood red and proud in the foreground and two broad green stripes below two white stripes sat behind. It was the masthead pennant of a galleon. ‘I know where she is,’ he said. ‘Quick! We must get to her…’

  v

  They all moved together, Raleigh sheathing his sword as they left Sir Thomas’s study, leaving hold of Bates and falling in with the leaders. As they passed small groups of servants hunting for Kate, they joined the larger group until Tom suggested to Sir Thomas that they hardly needed the entire household following in their footsteps - particularly as their way led down staircase after staircase. Those in the family’s section broad and accommodating enough but those in the servants’ quarters lower down were little better than the flight at Forman’s which had claimed Hal’s life.

  Tom led the way with Raleigh behind one shoulder and Poley behind the other. Sir Thomas and Lady Audrey were behind them, then Bates and several strapping footmen bringing up the rear. ‘All to try and catch one young woman,’ said Audrey, her tone making it clear that she could hardly credit what was going on.

  ‘A woman disguised as a man,’ added Sir Thomas. ‘Dressed in my clothes! Like one of your players Master Shakespeare!’

  ‘Except that this drama is real,’ added Poley. ‘There are no actors here!’