Hannah shook off all her misgivings and beamed at the faces before her. All that Paul could do was to stand there self-consciously and wish that the ovation would soon cease. Nobody looked at him. The applause was for a remarkable actress whose presence in any play lent it quality and definition. Thanks largely to her, they knew, no seat would ever be empty during the run of As You Like It. Teale clapped as hard as anyone, knowing that the production would be an unqualified success. Hannah, meanwhile, looked from person to person, spotting friends with whom she’d worked before and giving each one of them a separate smile of recognition. Among such a cast, she knew that her stay in Bath would be one of continuous pleasure.
Then her smile vanished abruptly and her body tensed. Paul became instantly aware of the radical change in her manner. Her eye had just alighted on someone below her. Trouble lay ahead.
Peter Skillen was astounded. He’d never met twins who looked so dissimilar. Because he and Paul were identical, it was almost impossible for most people to tell them apart. The one difference between them was that, while Peter was right-handed, his brother was left-handed. Abigail Saunders and her twin sister, however, had almost no matching features. While Abigail was skinny and decidedly plain, Betty Kingzett, wife of the landlord, was plump yet still attractive. Abigail might be subdued and fearful, but Betty had the bubbling personality needed in the Red Cow. Peter was glad that the effervescent Betty stayed to help her sister answer the questions fired at her.
‘Abby was fond of Mr Parry, weren’t you, Abby?’
‘Yes,’ said the other.
‘He treated her well. After his wife passed away, he became very sad and Abby thought he was going to dwindle away – didn’t you?’
‘I did, Betty.’
‘What kept him going was his love for his daughter.’
‘Miss Parry meant everything to him,’ explained Abigail. ‘He lived for her, really. Then she met a Dutchman and things changed.’
‘Her father didn’t like him,’ said Betty, taking over. ‘I don’t know why. We get a lot of Dutch sailors in here and they’re no trouble at all. Wapping was built on land reclaimed by a Dutchman named Cornelius Vanderdelft. I think it’s strange, really. I mean, Mr Parry was an engineer, wasn’t he? You’d have thought he’d appreciate an engineer who could drain marshes.’
‘What I really wish to ask your sister is this,’ said Peter, finally seeing a gap in the conversation into which he could jump. ‘Were all the servants as loyal as her?’
‘Were they, Abby?’ prompted Betty.
‘I think so,’ said her sister.
‘Who was the one Mr Parry trusted the most?’
‘That was Edmund Haines.’
‘Yes,’ said Peter. ‘Mrs van Emden gave me his name. She spoke quite well of him. In fact, she spoke well of all the servants, especially you.’
‘That’s so kind of her,’ said Abigail, smiling for the first time. ‘How is Miss Parry – Mrs van Emden, that is?’
‘As you’ll appreciate, she’s very upset at the moment.’
‘From what you’ve told us, Mr Skillen,’ said Betty, intervening yet again, ‘she has every right to be upset. She doesn’t know if her father is alive or dead, and did someone really stop her letters reaching Mr Parry?’
‘It wasn’t me,’ Abigail blurted out.
‘Do you have any idea who it might have been?’ asked Peter.
‘No, I don’t.’
She lapsed back into a watchful silence. Losing her position in a comfortable house had been a blow to Abigail Saunders. Even more distressing had been the decline of George Parry that had preceded it. When she spoke again, she talked about him as if he was no longer alive, telling Peter that the sight of her former employer begging in the street had made her feel ill for days.
‘Did you blame his daughter for what happened?’ asked Peter. ‘Mrs van Emden feels very guilty.’
‘And so she should,’ said Betty, bluntly. ‘If my daughter ever tried to defy me and my husband like that, we’d never forgive her.’
‘My question was for your sister, Mrs Kingzett.’
‘Answer it, Abby.’
‘It wasn’t my place to blame anyone,’ said Abigail.
‘That’s typical of you. You’re always so timid.’
‘I liked Miss Parry. I still do.’
‘Then perhaps I should arrange for you to meet her,’ said Peter. ‘Would you be happy to do that?’
There was the flicker of another smile. ‘Yes, I would.’
‘Leave it to me. I’ll speak to her.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
She was clearly in awe of her visitor. Head bowed and shoulders hunched, she sat on the edge of her chair. Betty, by contrast, stood there with her hands on her hips. Feeling that he’d got as much out of the servant as he was likely to at a first meeting, Peter rose to his feet.
‘Thank you, Miss Saunders. What you’ve told me has been very interesting. I have one last question.’
‘What is it?’ asked Betty.
‘Two servants were left behind at the house to welcome the staff of the new master. One of them was you. Who was the other one?’
‘That was Joseph Rafter, sir.’
‘Why was he selected?’
‘Even though he’d actually left Mr Parry’s employ, he’d been in service there far longer than any of us.’
‘Where might I find this man?’
‘He’s still in London, sir, but that’s all I can tell you.’
‘Then we’ll leave it at that for the time being.’ He turned to Betty. ‘Thank you for your assistance, Mrs Kingzett.’
‘I’m always here to help, Mr Skillen. And now that you’ve found the Red Cow, don’t forget us. We serve good food and the finest ale you could ask for. This is no ordinary inn, you see. If you come back, I’ll show you the exact spot where that black-hearted villain, Judge Jeffreys, was arrested, him that hanged all them people when King James was on the throne. He was hiding here in the guise of a sailor. They hauled him off to the Tower.’
‘I never realised that,’ said Peter. ‘The Red Cow clearly has its place in history.’
Having devised a plan, the Runners hired a gig and went in search of a suitable church. Yeomans was firmly of the opinion that the idea was really his, but Hale felt that Chevy Ruddock ought to get some share of the credit. His companion dismissed the suggestion out of hand.
‘He’s got to be kept in his place, Alfred.’
‘Chevy needs to be encouraged. He’s learnt fast since he joined us.’
‘His reward is that he hides all night in a churchyard.’
‘A word of praise from you wouldn’t come amiss.’
‘Well, he’s not going to get it. I rose to the position I hold because I had an iron hand. It gains us universal respect. If we start befriending people like Ruddock from the foot patrol, everyone will think we’ve gone soft. Discipline is vital in our job.’
‘So is having good ideas,’ said Hale.
‘I have a steady stream of them.’
‘This one was not entirely yours.’
Yeomans silenced him with a glare. All that concerned him was winning back the esteem of the chief magistrate and that could best be done by making a significant arrest among the bodysnatchers of London. The timing was propitious because they would have complete freedom of movement.
‘At least, we won’t be tripping over the Skillen brothers,’ he said. ‘Paul is still in Bath with that fetching actress of his, while Peter is busy looking for a missing person. Let’s hope the pair of them stay out of our way.’
‘Our task is so much easier when they’re busy elsewhere.’
‘Paul Skillen will certainly have a lot on his plate, Micah,’ said the other. ‘We know what he’s like when he’s roused. Miss Granville was robbed by highwaymen. That means he’ll want to wreak his revenge.’
‘It could keep him out of London for weeks.’
‘What about Peter Skillen?’
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br /> ‘I don’t think that he’ll bother us, Alfred. Of that we may be certain. Hunting a missing person in London is like trying to find a particular grain of sand in the Sahara Desert. No,’ Yeomans went on, flicking the reins to get more speed out of their horse, ‘someone is doing us a favour by hiring him. The one thing he won’t be doing is hunting bodysnatchers.’
When Peter returned home, Charlotte and Clemency were waiting for him, eager to hear his news. His account was clear and concise, wisely editing out the role played by Abigail’s effusive sister. While she was pleased to hear what the servant had told him, Clemency was saddened that she couldn’t explain how letters from Amsterdam had been prevented from reaching her father. She was, however, very willing to meet the woman.
‘I liked her,’ she said. ‘Abigail was as quiet as a mouse, but she did her job well. Joseph Rafter was also efficient, though he always let the other servants know that he was in charge.’
‘Would he be capable of hiding correspondence from your father?’
‘I wouldn’t have thought so.’
‘What about the others?’ asked Charlotte.
‘Abigail didn’t say much about them,’ said Peter. ‘I’m hoping that Clemency can get more out of her. The poor woman was afraid of me for some reason.’
‘Did you get the feeling that she was hiding something?’
‘No, Charlotte, I didn’t. If someone in that house betrayed Mr Parry, it wasn’t Abigail Saunders. It’s not too much to say that she loved him as a master. When she saw him begging in the street, she was appalled at how low he’d fallen.’
It was agreed that Peter would bring the servant to the house so that Clemency could have a long conversation alone with her, hearing about her father’s life during the years when they were apart. Peter was loath to take Clemency to the Red Cow in Wapping. The raucous atmosphere would be a problem. The two women needed peace and privacy.
‘What will you do next?’ asked Clemency.
‘I’ll begin the search for Joseph Rafter,’ replied Peter. ‘The chances are that he’s gone into service somewhere in London. Did he ever mention a family to you?’
‘Yes – he had a brother who worked as a shipwright.’
‘Then I’m already one step closer to locating him. There are countless servants, but shipwrights are much smaller in number. Thank you, Clemency. You’ve just saved me a lot of time.’
‘I feel so guilty for monopolising you like this. I know how much in demand you and your brother are.’
‘Paul is the one who’s being monopolised at the moment,’ he said with a light laugh. ‘Knowing how Hannah must be feeling, I doubt if he ever leaves her side.’
My way is to conjure you; and I’ll begin with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please you. And I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women – as I perceive by your simpering that none of you hates them – that between you and the women the play may please. If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I defied not. And I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths will for my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.
The applause was spontaneous. Hannah had not only delivered the final speech of the play with perfect timing, she did so without a copy of As You Like It in her hands. She had learnt the entirety of her part beforehand, amazing some of the company and shaming others because of their lack of preparation. As a character, Rosalind had stiff competition in the play, notably from the actors playing Jaques and Touchstone. Each of them was capable of stealing scenes and remaining most prominent in the minds of the audience as it left the theatre. Hannah had just served notice that, in this case, she would dominate the play completely.
Paul watched everyone gather around her to congratulate her on her performance. While he was pleased that she’d been outstanding during the reading, he knew that something had upset her deeply, and it was not just the memory of being robbed. He’d studied her carefully when she remained silent during scenes in which Rosalind didn’t appear. Though she seemed poised, involuntary glances and tiny gestures gave her away.
After rhapsodising over what he’d just heard, Vernon Teale showered praise on the whole company and told them when they’d be needed for rehearsal on the morrow. He then took Hannah aside to thank her for the way she’d set such a high standard for the others, predicting that her curtain speech would be a sensation. She lapped up his comments and sailed out of the theatre with a contented smile on her face. Once out of the building, however, she started to seethe with anger. Paul decided to wait until she was ready to speak to him. He concentrated on scanning the street on both sides for signs of the highwayman. None were seen. It was a source of great relief to him.
He escorted Hannah up to their room. Once inside, she closed the door behind her and vented her spleen.
‘I’ll not endure it!’ she yelled, stamping a foot.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I should have been warned beforehand.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hannah.’
‘Didn’t you see her? Didn’t you notice that smirk on her face?’
Paul was mystified. ‘No, I didn’t—’
‘The manager betrayed me. He’ll pay for that.’
‘Why? I can’t understand what’s upset you so much.’
‘Elinor Ingram.’
‘Who?’
‘Elinor Ingram,’ she repeated, raising her voice, ‘that ugly, malicious, two-faced harridan who is to play Celia to my Rosalind.’
‘I thought she was rather impressive,’ said Paul, ‘and, to be fair, the woman is far from ugly.’
‘How can you possibly say that? She has a face like a diseased pig. She’s entirely devoid of talent and shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a public stage.’
‘Then why did Mr Teale engage her?’
‘He didn’t – that’s the point. When he first approached me to join the company, he told me that he’d already persuaded Henrietta Doyle to accept the role of Celia. She is an actress for whom I have the highest respect. I looked forward to renewing my acquaintance with Henrietta, but she is not there. In her place,’ said Hannah, quivering with fury, ‘was Elinor Ingram. It was an unforgivable insult.’
‘I can’t believe that Mr Teale would dare to insult you, my love.’
‘That woman is anathema to me.’
‘The manager didn’t know that and nor did I. Miss Ingram showed you no animosity. Why do you rail against her?’
‘There are lots of reasons, Paul. The main one is that she once tried to ruin my career onstage. She’s nothing but a venomous snake.’
‘Calm down,’ he advised. ‘There’s no need to get so vexed.’
‘Vexed?’ she echoed. ‘That’s far too puny a word to explain the emotions that I feel. I’m enraged, frustrated, infuriated, exasperated, maddened, incensed and provoked beyond all measure. My immediate impulse is to summon Jenny to pack all my things so that we may shake the dust of Bath off our feet for ever.’
‘But you still haven’t told me why you are in such a state.’
‘I did so in pronouncing her foul name – Elinor Ingram.’
‘Would you really quit the company because of her?’
‘Mr Teale faces a choice between us,’ warned Hannah. ‘He either replaces that vixen or he’ll need to look for another Rosalind. I’ll not soil my reputation by playing scenes with that unprincipled back-stabber.’
‘Is that what you’re going to tell the manager?’
Grabbing him by the shoulders, she looked deep into his eyes.
‘No, Paul – it’s what you will say to him.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Though he was inclined to be lazy, Micah Yeomans could move with speed and purpose when required to do so. He and Hale visited several churches that might serve their purpose but, in each case, the parish pri
est objected strongly to the plan they put to him. The Runners widened their search, looking for a more remote location with a more amenable vicar. After meeting another series of disappointments, they eventually found themselves in Islington and decided that St Mary’s might suit their needs. Unknown to them, the grave robbed earlier had now been filled in and was no more than a mound of earth. All that they saw was a churchyard likely to attract criminals because of its isolated location.
The Rev. Hubert Corke gave them a cordial welcome and invited them into the vicarage. He was delighted to hear that the Runners were taking a special interest in the problem of bodysnatching and were determined to arrest those behind it.
‘We issued a report,’ said Yeomans, giving the impression that he’d done so of his own volition, ‘and were shocked at the increase in attacks on churchyards. None of them is safe.’
‘I know,’ said Corke, gloomily.
‘We don’t view our task solely as a case of catching depraved criminals. It has a religious purpose as well,’ said Yeomans, striking a pose. ‘I was brought up as a true Christian and believe my work has a missionary side to it. I drive out the evil from society in order to protect the good.’
‘Micah is true to his name,’ Hale pointed out.
Corke smiled benignly. ‘Then I’m glad that his parents chose to name him after a Hebrew prophet who lived in the kingdom of Judea,’ he said. ‘There are other Micahs in the Old Testament, you know. One of them lived in the country of Ephraim and stole eleven hundred pieces of silver from his mother. When she cursed the thief, he gave the money back, but she used some of it to pay a silversmith to make a graven image. Micah set up an altar to the idol.’ He turned to Yeomans. ‘I’m sure that you’d never approve of that.’
‘Mine is the way of the Lord,’ said the Runner, borrowing the phrase from a half-remembered sermon. ‘To that end, we wish to safeguard the dead from the sinfulness of the living. I have a plan that will help us to snare the malefactors.’
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