‘Are you Teunis Dekker?’ asked Daniel, politely.
‘Yes,’ replied the other. ‘What do you want?’
‘I just passed your storehouse and it looks as if someone has broken into it.’
Teunis was roused. ‘Are you sure?’
‘The door is wide open.’
‘Wait here.’
The salter vanished into the house to get his coat. Daniel had taken note of his size and muscularity. Thanks to directions from Hendrika, he and Welbeck knew where the man lived and found his storehouse nearby at the bottom of the cobbled hill mentioned by Pienaar. The name of Teunis Dekker was painted in bold letters on the door. Emerging with his coat and hat on, the salter carried a lantern. He and Daniel walked down the hill until they reached the storehouse. The open door was flapping in the wind. The salter was furious. He charged into the building to see what had been taken. Welbeck had been waiting behind the door to ambush him. Sticking out a foot, he tripped the man up. Teunis Dekker roared with anger and tried to get up to exact revenge but he found the point of Welbeck’s sword at his throat. Daniel snatched up the lantern and held it over their captive.
‘Who the hell are you?’ shouted the salter.
‘We’re friends of Emanuel Janssen,’ explained Daniel, ‘and we’ve come to reclaim his tapestry. Since you helped to steal it, you can help to load it back on to your cart so that we can take it back to its rightful owner.’
‘It wasn’t my idea,’ pleaded the other. ‘It was all Frans Tulp’s doing.’
‘We’ll come to him in due course. The tapestry has to be returned first. Before you get to your feet,’ added Daniel, ‘let me give you a word of warning. Sergeant Welbeck fought in the battle of Ramillies as depicted on the tapestry. If he’s given the slightest excuse to kill one of the thieves who stole it, he’ll take it.’
He nudged Welbeck who pricked the man’s throat with his sword and drew blood. The salter quailed. There was no escape.
Dekker and Tulp had been celebrating in their favourite tavern. Now that they’d met Janssen’s demand for proof that the tapestry was undamaged, they simply had to wait until the ransom was handed over. It pleased Tulp that the money would come from the Duke of Marlborough himself.
‘This is one battle that he didn’t win,’ he boasted. ‘I achieved something that even the French army couldn’t manage.’
‘You always did have brains, Frans.’
‘That’s why I get the lion’s share of the ransom.’
‘I agree, and so does Teunis.’
‘As for Hendrika, she gets nothing from me.’
‘Nor from me,’ said Dekker, bitterly. ‘I’m done with her. I hope I never see the old bitch again.’
‘I thought you wanted to leave her a gift.’
‘She doesn’t deserve it. I walked out of that house for good.’
Fearing his reaction, Dekker hadn’t told his friend that he’d been evicted or that he’d left one of the women unconscious after failing to get information out of her. That was irrelevant now. Liberated from his duties at the brothel, he could pass the time planning how he’d spend his wealth.
Tulp was pensive. ‘We made only one mistake, Jan.’
‘What was that?’
‘We should have asked for more.’
‘Could the Duke have afforded it?’
‘The old bastard could afford ten times that amount.’
Dekker smiled dreamily. ‘What’s it like to have so much money?’
‘Stay close to me and you may one day find out.’
They were sitting in a corner of the bar. Tulp had his back against the wall so that he could keep an eye on anyone who entered the tavern. Even in a place where they were well known, he was always on guard. Dekker, however, was not. After several tankards of beer, he was in a jovial mood. When someone stepped into the bar, he was completely unaware of him. Tulp, however, spotted Daniel at once. Sensing danger, he immediately put down his tankard and moved a hand to his dagger.
Dekker noticed the way that his friend had suddenly tensed.
‘What’s the matter, Frans?’ he asked. Turning round, he saw Daniel bearing down on him. Dekker blinked. ‘I’ve seen you before.’
‘I’ve come to deliver a message from Gerda,’ said Daniel, punching him hard on the jaw and knocking him to the floor. ‘Get up so that I can give it to you in full.’
Dekker was inflamed. Rubbing his jaw, he scrambled to his feet and took a wild swing at Daniel. It completely missed its target. Ducking beneath the huge fist, Daniel replied with two searching punches to the stomach that took all the breath out of Dekker and made him bend forward. Daniel pounded his face until blood surged from his nose then put all his strength into an uppercut that felled the man. After a weak attempt to haul himself up, Dekker slumped back to the floor. Other patrons of the tavern had cleared a space for the fight to take place. Now that it was over, they closed in on Daniel.
‘Stand back!’ he warned, whipping out a pistol. ‘This man is under arrest for a number of crimes. He will be handed over to a magistrate. If any of you would like to join him behind bars, please step forward.’
The note of authority in Daniel’s voice was enough to disperse the threat. Everyone backed away at once. Still holding the pistol in one hand, Daniel took Dekker by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out of the tavern.
Tulp hadn’t stayed to watch the fight. An instinct for self-preservation told him to take to his heels. He abandoned his friend to Daniel and darted out through the rear door of the tavern, only to run straight into the solid frame of Henry Welbeck. Before he could even reach for his dagger, Tulp was thrust against a wall, kicked in the shins and swiftly disarmed. Welbeck pinned him against the cold bricks.
‘You must be Frans Tulp,’ he said with a grim smile. ‘His Grace, the Duke of Marlborough, has sent this gift for you.’
One fearsome punch sent the thief into oblivion.
The whole household was assembled to view the tapestry and to congratulate those who’d recovered it. Pienaar was embarrassed by the praise he was receiving but it was the evidence he’d gathered that had proved vital. Janssen couldn’t thank him enough. Amalia reserved most of her acclaim for Daniel and for Welbeck. They’d actually captured the three thieves and handed them over to a magistrate. Such a feat was well beyond Pienaar.
‘It’s fortunate that Aelbert had seen one of the men before,’ she said.
‘He’s got a sharp eye and a good memory,’ said Daniel.
‘Where had he met such a rogue?’
‘What does it matter, Amalia? The fact is that he was able to give us an idea of where we might track down the villain.’
Establishing that Jan had worked at the brothel had been the crucial piece of evidence gathered by Pienaar. Daniel wasn’t going to betray a confidence by telling Amalia what the weaver did on his Friday evenings. Pienaar was being hailed as a hero and Daniel felt that that was appropriate. The man’s bravery and vigilance had more than compensated for the unintentional lapse made in conversation with a woman who resembled his wife. Pienaar would be making no more visits to the house.
It was cold in the workshop, so they folded up the tapestry and left it in a corner. Now that the rear door of the house had been reinforced, they felt it was safe to leave it there. Janssen led the way into the parlour where they could bathe in some warmth. Drink was flowing and Beatrix was offering light refreshment on a platter. When she came to Welbeck, her eyes were sparkling with admiration. She knew enough English to compliment him.
‘You’re a hero, Sergeant Welbeck,’ she said.
‘Thank you, Beatrix.’
‘We owe you a lot.’
‘I was happy to be of help.’
‘It’s so good to have a soldier in the house.’
‘You’ve had two of us.’
‘Do you like it here?’
‘Yes, I do.’
Welbeck was surprised at his answer. Earlier that day, he’d been regrettin
g his decision to come to Amsterdam because he felt out of place. The chance of action, however, had exhilarated him and he felt quite comfortable joining in the celebrations with the rest of them. Beatrix was largely responsible for that. Every other person in the house had been unfailingly cordial towards him but it was Beatrix who’d shown most interest in him. Yet she was in no way intrusive. She simply appeared when he had need of a servant. In the course of his stay, his antipathy towards women had been slowly eroded. But for the crisis that had brought him there, the Janssen household was supremely contented and Beatrix occupied a prime place in it. While he had no wish to prolong a domestic existence, he’d been forced to admit that it had its appeal. And in Beatrix, he’d finally found a woman whose company he could endure without feeling threatened.
‘I hope you’ll stay as long as you wish, Sergeant,’ said Janssen.
‘Thank you – but I have to get back to my regiment.’
‘It’s been a pleasure to have you here.’
‘The pleasure has been mutual,’ said Welbeck.
‘I never thought to hear Henry saying that,’ teased Daniel, joining the two men. ‘You’ve tamed him at last. Until he came here, he was happiest when living under canvas. He’s at last discovered the joys of civilised life.’
‘Yet I still prefer to return to winter quarters, Dan.’
‘Tarry a little in Amsterdam.’
‘Yes,’ added Janssen. ‘My house is at your disposal.’
‘It’s a kind offer,’ said Welbeck, ‘but I’ve done what I was asked to do. It’s time to leave.’ He caught Beatrix’s eye and had a momentary pang of regret. ‘I’ll bid you all farewell in the morning.’
‘Remember that you’re always welcome here, Sergeant.’
‘I appreciate that.’
‘Actually,’ said Daniel, ‘I can’t let you ride back to winter quarters. There’s some unfinished business for us to complete first, Henry.’
‘Is there?’
‘The tapestry belongs to His Grace. We must deliver it to him.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Janssen. ‘I’ll write to tell him how it was retrieved and how much we owe to two of his finest soldiers. You can bear the letter with you.’
‘We’ll be glad to do so.’
Amalia was saddened. ‘Do you really have to go so soon, Daniel?’
‘I’m afraid so. His Grace has been waiting a long time for his tapestry.’
‘Let him wait a few more days at least.’
‘I’m sorry, Amalia. I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can.’
‘I’ll hold you to that.’
‘And so will I,’ said Janssen. ‘This is your second home.’
‘Then I’ll make sure that I don’t stay away from it for long,’ promised Daniel. ‘Tomorrow we’ll hire a cart to take the tapestry to The Hague. As soon as this cold spell ends, His Grace will want to take it back to England with him.’
Amalia was distressed. ‘I hope that you won’t go with him.’
‘That decision doesn’t lie in my hands, Amalia. I have to obey orders. Whatever His Grace has in mind for me, I must perforce do it. That’s how we first met, after all. On that occasion, too,’ Daniel recalled, ‘it was a tale of a tapestry, a rescue and a beautiful young lady. That’s why I feel so indebted to the British army.’
Marlborough pored over the map and wondered which would be the most likely theatre of war once the campaign season resumed. Though there was a desire on all sides to achieve an equitable peace settlement, he had grave doubts that it could be achieved. Negotiations had been opened time and again, only to falter when the terms on offer were rejected. France might be on its knees, but whenever there was a military threat it always showed remarkable resilience. He was confident that Louis XIV would be capable of raising yet another army and of finding a man worthy of leading it. With its wealth, driving ambition and expertise on the battlefield, France had dominated Europe for over forty years. In spite of major defeats inflicted by Marlborough, its army hadn’t lost its sense of entitlement. It still expected to win as of right.
A sudden pain shot through his head, forcing Marlborough to push the map aside and sit up. He feared the onset of yet another migraine but the pain faded away in minutes. Even though hostilities had temporarily ceased, there’d been no real improvement in his health. He was still racked by fatigue, dizzied by headaches and liable to bouts of fever. Inertia also took its toll, leaving him bored and fretful. In previous years, he’d spent the winter back in England, where a busy social round partially compensated for the lack of action in the field. Time spent with his family, friends and political allies always revived him for the struggles that lay ahead in a forthcoming campaign season. That was not the situation here. Though he and his retinue were living scot-free in a mansion, the delights of The Hague had long since started to pall. He felt increasingly homesick.
Cardonnel entered the room to find him in a familiar pose, both hands to his head as his elbows rested on the table. The secretary crossed over to him.
‘What ails you?’
‘Everything ails me, Adam,’ said Marlborough, looking up. ‘The war, the winter, the endless haggling with our partners in this venture and these splitting headaches sent to torment me.’ He lowered his hands. ‘And that’s only the beginning of it.’
‘Then let me give you some good news for once.’
‘Is there such a thing?’
‘A thaw is setting in. Reports suggest that the ports will soon be open again.’
‘You call that good news?’
‘Of course, Your Grace – it will enable us to sail to England.’
‘Where I will have to face the wrath of my dear wife,’ said Marlborough with a sigh. ‘Think of all the bile she’ll have stored up during the time when she was unable to write to me. I’ll be drowned in a veritable waterfall of it. I answer to Her Majesty yet my wife despises the woman. Each day brings a new perceived slight about which to complain. Nobody can hate with the passion of a woman.’
‘I’m sure that Her Grace will be delighted to see you again.’
‘But how long will that delight last?’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘When she hears that our tapestry has been stolen, she’ll blame me for not having it guarded properly. Sarah has seen the design and met its creator, remember. Emanuel Janssen actually went to Blenheim Palace last year to view its progress.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘There’ll be a large blank wall where the Battle of Ramillies should be and my wife will not let me forget it.’
‘The tapestry may yet be recovered, Your Grace.’
‘Then why have we heard nothing from Amsterdam?’
‘I have no answer to that,’ admitted Cardonnel.
‘When was the last communication?’
‘It was over a week ago. Captain Rawson wrote to advise you that he’d sent for Sergeant Welbeck of the 24th Foot to assist him. They make a formidable team, Your Grace, and have proved themselves time and again.’
‘Granted – yet I sense that they have at last failed.’
‘I remain more sanguine.’
Marlborough rose to his feet. ‘God bless you, Adam!’ he said, patting the other man’s arm. ‘You’re my saviour. Whenever I look into the pit of despair, you’re there to pull me back from the edge.’
‘It’s something I learnt from you, Your Grace. No matter how bad the omens, never give up. Stay true to yourself and you’ll win through.’
‘It’s a lesson I need to relearn for my own benefit. So,’ he went on, making an effort to strike a more cheerful note, ‘there’s a thaw setting in, is there? That should gladden the heart. The Dutch are staunch allies but I miss the company of my fellow countrymen. Compared to England, this is such a dull and prosaic nation. And even though I may fear the ferocity of my beloved wife, I yearn to be with her once more and to remind myself what a fortunate husband I am.’
‘Being at home again will surely improve your health.’
‘T
hat will be an additional bonus.’
‘And you’ll be able to discuss your position with Her Majesty.’
Marlborough scowled. ‘I look for no favours from that quarter.’
There was a tap on the door and, in response to a barked command from Marlborough, it was opened by a uniformed lieutenant.
‘Apologies for this intrusion, Your Grace,’ he said, ‘but Captain Rawson presents his compliments and requests a meeting with you.’
‘Send him in,’ urged Marlborough, ‘send him in.’
‘I told you that he wouldn’t let you down,’ said Cardonnel as the man bowed himself out. ‘He’s here in person to trumpet his success.’
‘He could equally well have come to report failure, Adam. Unable to squeeze any money out of us, the thieves may have destroyed the tapestry out of sheer spite.’
‘I incline to a more optimistic view.’
Marlborough gave a hollow laugh. ‘I’m glad that one of us does.’
‘Failure isn’t a word in Captain Rawson’s lexicon.’
‘We shall see.’
There was a knock on the door. Daniel opened it, stepped into the room and exchanged greetings with them. His face was impassive.
‘The tapestry is no longer in Amsterdam,’ he announced.
‘I knew it,’ said Marlborough, gloomily. ‘Those devils have destroyed it.’
‘Let’s hear the full details,’ cautioned Cardonnel.
‘I’ll have them roasted alive for this.’
‘The tapestry is no longer in Amsterdam,’ repeated Daniel with a slow grin, ‘because it’s here in The Hague. At this very moment, Sergeant Welbeck – who helped me to retrieve it – is standing guard over it.’
‘By Jove!’ exclaimed Marlborough, embracing him. ‘This is joyous news.’
Cardonnel was laughing. ‘Allow me to congratulate you, Captain Rawson.’
5 A Very Murdering Battle Page 15