The Parliament House cr-5

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The Parliament House cr-5 Page 22

by Edward Marston


  Golland sniffed. 'In that case, they were warned in advance.'

  'It was something to do with Cuthbert being a member of the Privy Council. I was hoping that you could enlighten me.'

  'I wish I could,' he said, going through a list of statutes in his mind to find the one that had been invoked. 'If he is being charged with trying to kill a Privy Councillor, it could go hard with Sir Julius. Are you not relieved now that you and he have parted?'

  'We did not part,' she corrected. 'We are still friends.'

  'Then I'd advise you to distance yourself from that friendship at once, Dorothy. It was an unfortunate relationship from the start. To continue it now may bring opprobrium down upon you.'

  'I cannot simply desert Sir Julius.'

  'You can and you must.'

  'But he will marshal his defence and seek an acquittal.'

  'Even if he is released,' he told her, sententiously, 'it would be foolish to allow this attachment to continue. Do you wish to be known as the intimate of a man who was lampooned in a play?'

  'It would be cruel to turn my back on him, Orlando.'

  'Cruelty to him, kindness to yourself - and to me.'

  'Stop thinking of yourself all the time,' she said, reproachfully. 'I came in the hope of learning more details of the situation, not to listen to you telling me what to do.'

  'I'm sorry,' he said with an appeasing smile, 'but one must always look at the implications of any action. Let me find out more about the case. If it has reached Maurice's ears, it will be all around the House of Commons by now. Sir Julius will not receive much commiseration from there, I fancy.'

  'That's why I must offer him my sympathy.'

  'No, Dorothy.'

  'It's the least I can do.'

  'The gesture would compromise you.'

  'Sir Julius lies in the Tower, facing some awful charge. Imagine how he must feel, Orlando.' She reached a decision. 'I think that I should visit him.'

  'I forbid it!' he said rising to his feet. 'That was too harsh,' he apologised, waving a hand. 'I've no right to give you any commands, Dorothy. I merely advise you - very strongly - to keep away from Sir Julius Cheever. You'll be contaminated with his crime.'

  'But I'm not even sure that he committed one.'

  'If a warrant was issued, there is a charge to answer.'

  'Discover what it was as soon as you can.'

  'I will,' he promised. 'Meanwhile, dismiss all thoughts of Sir Julius from your mind. I insist upon it. I'll not have a sister of mine entering the Tower to visit a felon.'

  'Sir Julius is no felon, Orlando.'

  'He is in the eyes of the law and that is all that matters.'

  Susan Cheever was still trying to cope with the impact of what had happened. It was only when they were being conducted through the Tower that the full seriousness of her father's situation was borne in upon her. Everywhere she looked were high stone walls and armed guards. Feet rasping on the cobbles, they passed tower after tower, each one more sinister and threatening than the one before. She felt oppressed. Built by William the Conqueror six hundred years earlier, the Tower of London had been associated with royalty ever since. It had seen births, weddings, processions, tournaments, banquets, even a royal menagerie and it had hosted many foreign dignitaries for generations.

  All that Susan could remember was that it was closely allied to death. Murders and executions had left a trail of blood behind them. Kings, queens and leading statesmen had perished there. Notorious prisoners had endured agonising tortures before being released by a merciful death sentence. The ravens that inhabited the Tower were harbingers of disaster, birds of prey that alighted greedily on every fresh grave, noisy spectators to a long succession of horrors. When she saw them, Susan felt a chill descend upon her. It was as if she were a prisoner herself, stripped of any rights or self-respect. Even on such a warm day, she began to shiver.

  Her discomfort was soon intensified. Sir Julius Cheever, it transpired, was being held in an upper room in the Bloody Tower, a place with a bleak and gory history. When they climbed the stairs, Susan was glad that Lancelot Serle had volunteered to accompany her. Sensing her distress, he put out a supportive hand to help her. A guard was standing outside the room. After they had identified themselves, he took a bunch of keys from his belt and unlocked the door. Susan burst in and flung herself into her father's arms. She did not hear the door being locked behind her.

  'How are you, Father?' she asked, appraising him.

  He forced a smile. 'All the better for seeing you, Susan.'

  'Brilliana did not feel well enough to come, Sir Julius,' said Serle. 'She sends her love and asked me to visit in her stead.'

  'You are welcome, Lancelot,' said Sir Julius, shaking him warmly by the hand. 'I'm only sorry that you have to see me in this state.' He looked around. 'This is one of the rooms where Sir Walter Raleigh was kept before his execution. His wife and son lived with him. As you see, it is quite comfortable.'

  It did not seem so to the visitors. The room was small and bare with oak boards that creaked whenever they were walked upon. There was a table, two chairs and a straw mattress. On the table were a Bible and some writing materials. A jug of water and a cup stood on a shelf. They did not need to be told why a large bucket had been put in a corner and covered with a piece of sacking. It was a prison cell and it degraded any person who occupied it.

  'How much do you know?' said Sir Julius.

  'Only what Christopher told us,' answered Susan.

  'We hold him largely responsible for this,' said Serle, glancing around with disgust. 'He was the one person in a position to stop you and he failed to do so. I find that deplorable.'

  'Then you do not appreciate the circumstances,' Sir Julius told him. 'Christopher had no option but to concur with my wishes. Nothing would have stopped me from issuing that challenge. I turned to him because I knew that I could trust him.'

  'I thought that I could,' said Susan to herself.

  'Just remember this. But for Christopher Redmayne, I would not still be alive. As to this enforced visit to the Tower, it was in no way his fault. I must take all of the blame.'

  'Why is that, Father?'

  'Because I should have known that Stoneleigh was too crafty to fight a duel to the death. He only agreed to face me so that I could be ensnared by some obscure piece of legislation that makes him look like a victim while showing me up as a would-be assassin.'

  'Christopher had never heard of the statute,' said Serle.

  'No more had I. Sir John Robinson explained it to me.'

  'Who is he?'

  'The Lieutenant of the Tower,' said Sir Julius. 'The law reached the statute book in the third year of the reign of King Henry VII. That would put it in 1488. In sending a challenge to the Earl of Stoneleigh, I committed a felony for I had designs on the life of a Privy Councillor. That much I admit,' he went on. 'Had we not been interrupted, I'd have cut the villain down.'

  Humouring her father, Susan said nothing. She knew from Christopher's account that the earl was getting the better of the duel when it was stopped but Sir Julius would never concede that. What she wanted to hear was how they could extricate him from the Tower. Without his coat, and weighed down by anxiety, he was a sorry figure. His flashes of fighting spirit seemed incongruous in such a place.

  'You do not belong in here, Father,' she said.

  'The law says that I do.'

  'Then we must hire someone to defend you,' said Serle.

  'I'm not sure that I have any defence, Lancelot.'

  'The earl maligned you in his play. A writ of libel can be issued against him. No man - aristocrat or commoner - should be allowed to get away with such vilification. Demand redress.'

  'I tried to do that with my sword.'

  'See him prosecuted.'

  'It would never happen,' said Sir Julius, resignedly. 'Libel is a minor offence compared to the one with which I am charged. In truth, we were both liable to arrest when we took part in that duel but
there is no way that Stoneleigh will be arraigned.'

  'He should be,' said Susan, angrily. 'He fought with you this morning and you have witnesses to prove it. Christopher and Mr Polegate were there.'

  'So was my surgeon but what are three voices against the dozen that Stoneleigh will call? He brought a whole entourage with him. They will swear that he was trying to reason with me rather than fight a duel. No, Susan,' he said. 'The earl thought it all out in advance. I was to be arrested while he goes scot-free. There's no help for it.'

  'There must be.'

  'I fail to see the way out.'

  'Then we must rely on Christopher,' she said, surprised at the affection she felt for him again. 'He is the only person who has a means of saving you, Father, and he'll dedicate himself to doing just that. Rely on him.'

  'How ever did you get hold of this?' asked Christopher Redmayne, studying the list of ingredients in one hand and comparing it with the letter he held in the other. 'The hand is a perfect match.' 'I called on Mr Howlett at his brewery,' said Jonathan Bale.

  'On what pretext?'

  'To tell him that we had found Mr Everett's killer. He seemed pleased that I'd taken the trouble to do so.'

  'Even though he already knew of our discovery.' Christopher indicated the list. 'These are the constituent elements of beer.'

  'I asked him for advice on how best to make it.'

  'And you're certain that he wrote this?'

  'I stood over him while he did so.'

  "Well done, Jonathan. You outwitted him.'

  'I had a feeling about Mr Howlett, sir,' said Bale. 'It was that visit he paid to the Saracen's Head. There was no need for him to go there. Now we know why he did it.'

  'Thanks to you.'

  Christopher was delighted. It was not just the handwriting that matched. The paper was identical as well. He put both examples of Erasmus Howlett's shaky calligraphy down on his desk. They were in the study of his house in Fetter Lane. Having returned there in a mood of dejection, Christopher was now almost elated.

  'We have enough to make an arrest now,' said Bale.

  'No, Jonathan.'

  'But we have written proof that Mr Howlett instructed Dan Crothers to book a room at the tavern that day. And we also know that he's the cousin of the Earl of Stoneleigh. What more do we need?'

  'Evidence that the earl wrote this other letter,' said Christopher, taking it up from the desk. 'The one that warned Crothers that Sir Julius was leaving for Cambridge. It will be much more difficult to do that. I don't think that the earl will oblige you so readily with some advice on how to make beer.'

  'Then how do we get an example of his handwriting?'

  Christopher thought about his brother. 'I may have the answer to that, Jonathan. Give me some time.'

  'Yes, Mr Redmayne.'

  The constable was so happy with what he had discovered at the brewery that Christopher did not want to deprive him of his pleasure. But it was inevitable. Bale simply had to be told about the duel and its unforeseen consequences. Knowing that his tale would be frowned upon, Christopher kept it as short as he could. Bale was astounded. He could understand why Sir Julius had reacted so violently but not why Christopher had agreed to act as a second at the duel. And he was taken aback when he heard that Sir Julius was now in the Tower.

  'Had you told me,' he said, 'I could have broken up the duel.'

  'That would not have prevented Sir Julius's arrest. It had already been set in train by the earl. That's why we must expose him as the villain he is, Jonathan. Only then can we apprehend Erasmus Howlett.'

  'You're forgetting someone else, sir.'

  'Am I?'

  'The man who was hired to cut Dan Crothers's throat. In fact, you must take especial care when you go abroad in future.'

  'Why?'

  'Mr Howlett showed too great an interest in you,' said Bale. 'He wanted to know where you lived and why you had involved yourself in the investigation. We may both be in danger now. Since we managed to find Crothers, Mr Howlett will fear that we may one day catch up with him - as, indeed, we have done. Not that I gave him any hint of that.'

  'Thank you for the warning. I take is as a good sign.'

  Bale scowled. 'I'd not describe being threatened by a proven killer as a good sign.'

  'It means that we have frightened Mr Howlett. And frightened men often act too precipitately. They make mistakes.' He pointed to the list of ingredients. 'There's an example.'

  'We both need to take greater care, sir.'

  'I certainly will,' said Christopher. 'No more duels for me.'

  He laughed light-heartedly but Bale's face was impassive. When he heard the doorbell ring, the constable got to his feet immediately.

  'If you have a visitor, I'll be off.'

  'Stay and talk. You're the only visitor I want to see at the moment.' He heard the front door opening and the sound of voices. Christopher leapt up from his seat. 'With one exception - my brother, Henry. I'm surprised that he has the audacity to show his face.'

  Moments later, Jacob appeared to say that he had shown Henry into the parlour. Taking the constable with him, Christopher charged off to challenge him. When his brother saw that Bale was there, he took a step backwards.

  'Heavens!' he exclaimed. 'Is he going to arrest me?'

  'If deceit and disloyalty were against the law,' said Christopher, bitterly, 'that's exactly what I would ask Jonathan to do.'

  'Do not judge me too hastily.'

  'You acted as a second to the Earl of Stoneleigh.'

  'He asked me to, Christopher.'

  'Did you not see that as an act of gross betrayal?'

  'Betrayal of whom?'

  'Of Sir Julius Cheever and me.'

  'You urged me to get close to Cuthbert,' Henry said. 'You told me that I had to find out certain things about him. I could hardly do that if I stayed out of his way.'

  'You did not have to support him at a duel.'

  'A duel that should never have taken place,' said Bale, darkly.

  'There's such a thing as honour, Mr Bale,' said Henry.

  'I see no honour in killing a man with a sword. Duelling is a devilish practice and it was rightly abolished. Too many good men died for no reason.'

  'That's not the point at issue here,' said Christopher, annoyed that his brother could stand so calmly before him. 'The duel was merely a way of drawing Sir Julius into the open. Once there, he could be trussed hand and foot with this ancient statute.'

  'Yes,' said Henry, 'that rather took me by surprise.'

  'Are you sure?'

  'I'd swear to it, Christopher. What do I know of legal matters? When I was asked by Cuthbert to act as his second, I thought that he meant to proceed with the duel.'

  'And kill Sir Julius.'

  'He's never killed an opponent before and I've been at his side on three occasions. Cuthbert - the Earl of Stoneleigh to you - has a softer side. He prefers to humiliate an opponent, draw blood then show magnanimity by withdrawing.'

  'He showed no magnanimity to Sir Julius.'

  'I taxed him about that.'

  'And what did he say?'

  'That if a man is stupid enough to put his head in a noose, he must not be surprised if someone pulls it tight.'

  'I wonder that you can be so blithe about it, sir,' said Bale.

  'So blithe and uncaring,' said Christopher. 'Sir Julius is incarcerated in the Tower. Think what that means to a man of his dignity. And spare a thought for his family. I had to tell them what had happened. They were distraught.'

  Henry was concerned. 'Was Brilliana upset?'

  'She was in floods of tears.'

  'I'd not have hurt her for the world. If I'd known what Cuthbert had in mind, I'd never have agreed to act as his second. But you insisted that I court him,' he told Christopher, 'and that's exactly what I did.'

  'Even though it meant enraging your brother?'

  'I hoped that you'd not recognise me.'

  'I'd recognise you anywhere, Henry.
I was simply grateful that Sir Julius did not realise you were there. He'd have run you through.'

  'Then he'd not have heard what I discovered.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'The duel need never have taken place, Christopher.'

  'It should not have taken place,' said Bale, officiously. 'If it were left to me-'

  'One moment, Jonathan,' said Christopher. 'I fancy that Henry has something important to tell us. Am I right, Henry?'

  'You are,' replied his brother, 'and it will demonstrate which side I am really on. Be prepared for a revelation.'

  'Go on.'

  'The duel was arranged on false grounds.'

  'Sir Julius was goaded into it.'

  'That was deliberate, Christopher - but not strictly fair.'

  'Nothing about the earl suggests fairness.' 'Do not deride him,' said Henry. 'He's a brave man. When you take part in a duel, you put your life at risk. How was he to know that Sir Julius would not turn out to be an expert swordsman?'

  'I saw no bravery in him today - only arrogance.'

  'That's because you did not know the circumstances.'

  'They seem clear to me, sir,' said Bale. 'A play was performed that held Sir Julius up to ridicule. He was bound to feel the need to strike back at its author.'

  'I agree, Mr Bale, but that's not what he did.'

  'It's exactly what he did,' argued Christopher. 'He issued a challenge to the Earl of Stoneleigh.'

  'Yes, but Cuthbert did not actually write the offending scene.'

  'But it was in a play that bore his name.'

  'Inserted there by another hand, a very mischievous hand.'

  Christopher was bewildered. 'Are you telling us that the man who belittled Sir Julius Cheever in front of a theatre audience was not the earl?' Henry nodded. 'Then who did write that scene?'

  'Maurice Farwell.'

  Maurice Farwell rolled over in bed and reached for his goblet of wine. He offered it first to the woman who lay beside him and then, when she had taken a sip, he put it to his own lips. Farwell set the goblet back on the bedside table.

  'What better way to toast our success?' he said, suavely.

  'I knew that we'd bring him down in the end.'

  'I'm sorry that it took so long, my love. It meant that you had to endure his attentions far longer than I'd hoped.'

 

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