Mr. Wicken interrupted him. ‘And, given what I have told you about my work, your mind worries that I have some ulterior reason for my actions unbeknownst to you. Probably a reason that you should either fear or seek to avoid. Am I right?’
Adam assented. He felt as he had done on more than one occasion when the master at his school had reason to reprimand or punish him for some misdemeanour.
Mr. Wicken, however, appeared delighted with Adam’s admission. ‘My dear doctor, your candour is as refreshing as your reasoning is swift. As you can imagine, I spend a good deal of my time with those who would conceal all their thoughts from me, if they could. Some are inside our own government, I may add. It is delightful to find one who speaks what he thinks, even if it is wrong – as it is in this case, I assure you.
‘What brought me here is something like admiration, doctor. As I understood the way you have reasoned in this matter, I found myself most impressed. That is a rarity, I can assure you. No, sir, I have come to have the pleasure of meeting you for myself and showing you how close you have come to the truth of this matter. Though, if I am to repay frankness with frankness, I must own to a curiosity of my own.
‘There are still some aspects that escape me. I can no longer devote my scarce resources to their resolution. Indeed they probably have no bearing on the duties of my office. However, it occurred to me that I might be able to persuade you to go just a little further on your quest and satisfy my curiosity as I hope to satisfy yours. When I have told you what I can, I will return to this and we will see if we can strike a deal. Is that acceptable to you?’
The thoughts and questions in Adam’s mind were moving so fast that he could scarce focus on one before it was displaced by the next. His answer, therefore, came from instinct, not rationality. Perhaps that was a blessing, perhaps not. Only time would tell. Yet one thing was clear to him, even through the fog swirling in his mind. He had a patient whose future health and ease – perhaps even her life – depended on his ability to lay her fears to rest. To walk away from the puzzle of the archdeacon’s death now, regardless of what Mr. Wicken could tell him, would be the gravest dereliction of his duty as a physician. He would never be able to live with himself.
‘I accept, Mr. Wicken,’ he said, ‘though I cannot see how my fumbling efforts may succeed where your superior knowledge and skills have not.’
‘We will see, doctor,’ Mr. Wicken said. ‘It seems I have more faith in your ability that you. Well, I am willing to back that faith. I do not believe you will prove me wrong.’
They were interrupted now by the arrival of a servant bearing a tray with a jug of punch, glasses and two small dishes of sweetmeats. ‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ the girl said to Adam. ‘The mistress thought that you had perhaps forgotten to offer your visitor refreshment.’
It seemed Adam was fated throughout this morning to be found wanting in matters of simple hospitality. The thought had never crossed his mind. Blushing with embarrassment at his woeful lack of politeness, he told the girl to set down her burden. Then he asked her to convey his fullest thanks to her mistress for making good his absence of manners, however belatedly. As the maid poured glasses for them both, he thought he detected a grin on her face, though she quickly hid it, sensing he was observing her.
When she had gone, he would have offered more apologies to Mr. Wicken, but his guest gave him no opportunity. ‘As I said, doctor, I must return to London as quickly as I may. Please thank your mother for her kindness and tell her I was glad of what she sent. Now, with your agreement, let us return at once to the matter in hand.’
‘Earlier, you mentioned spies,’ Mr. Wicken continued, after taking a long draught of the punch. ‘What you may not have realised is that such persons come in many forms. Some, as the popular imagination insists, are disreputable personages from the lowest ranks of society, who frequent vile inns and bawdy-houses to pick up what rumours they can. Some are honest tradesmen and artisans in contact with colleagues infected by radicalism, revolutionary fervour or simple greed. Mariners are needed to move undiscovered amongst mariners. Labourers observe labourers and so on. Like is needed to pass unnoticed amongst like and observe their thoughts and actions.
‘At the end of last year, our attention was drawn to the parts of this coast northwards of Norwich. First, we picked up rumours of a group of gentlemen meeting in secret. No more than that. Then word reached us that certain groups in which we have an interest talked of a secret pathway to and from the other side of the German Ocean; a pathway that began on this same part of the coast. Many seek to enter or leave England unobserved, doctor, and we are ever trying to stop them. Since 1789 and the outbreak of revolution in France, we have redoubled our efforts. Not all who seek to enter our land are nobles fleeing the guillotine and the mob. Men like Paine wrote openly about beginning a similar revolution on this side of the Channel. Indeed, we are well aware that the French have been sending many spies here, both to foment trouble and to report back on the state of our ability to withstand invasion.’
‘So war is coming again,’ Adam said.
‘Almost certainly,’ Mr. Wicken said. ‘My own judgement is that it may be as soon as the end of this year or shortly after.’
‘These two rumours – the secret meetings and the pathway across the seas – were they linked?’ Adam asked.
‘We did not know then and do not know now,’ Mr. Wicken replied. ‘All I can say is that any such route needs secure places along the way where those using it may wait to move onwards. Yet our spies found none, though they questioned innkeepers and livery stable owners most carefully. It seems this route was not using any of the usual types of staging point. In country areas, strangers are quickly noticed and cannot easily pass themselves off as other than they are.’
‘But visitors to gentlemen’s houses need not worry,’ Adam said. ‘They might be described as visiting friends or distant family members. No one would ask anything further.’
‘Exactly,’ Mr. Wicken said, smiling.’I said you were of quick mind, did I not? Now you have proved it. If the rumoured secret meetings of gentlemen were linked to this pathway, could they be discussing amongst themselves where the next people passing through should stop to rest?’
‘But gentlemen, sir,’ Adam replied. ‘Can we believe such as these would act against their own king and country?’
‘Why not? The Jacobites joined in outright armed rebellion. Wilkes had to flee to France because of his disloyal outbursts.’
‘So you had your spies look there,’ Adam said.
‘Not just there,’ Mr. Wicken said. ‘There is another sort of person who may move easily from place to place without arousing suspicion. Our land has many dissenting preachers and evangelists who are constantly travelling from congregation to congregation.’
‘Of course!’ Adam cried. ‘That is why you needed the archdeacon.’
‘You are far ahead of me,’ Mr. Wicken admitted. ‘You are right, of course, but give me leave to explain a little more before we come to him. To place spies amongst the gentry is almost impossible, save by using their servants, which would be abhorrent to all decency. Amongst men of God, it is no easier. What we required were people in a position to ask questions without attracting attention. Clergymen and ministers of religion move amongst the rich all the time. Now, before you protest that none would consent to act as spies, however worthwhile the cause, let me add this. Not all those who supply us with information know that they are doing so. It is often better for us to use an intermediary who can solicit information without appearing to do so. Many men gossip when at ease, as do many ladies. Might it not be worthwhile to have one or two present at such relaxed times to pick up snippets and make sure they reach the right ears?’
‘Who might do that,’ Adam asked, ‘yet not be a clergyman, preacher or gentleman himself?’
‘I will give you the name and address of one right here in Norwich before I leave,’ Mr. Wicken said. ‘Indeed, I have warned him to expe
ct your visit, for I hope to have you speak with him to see if I have missed anything in his tale. But let us return to Dr. Ross.
‘The Archdeacon of Norwich was well placed to know what was happening in the parishes under his supervision. It was also known that he had a strong dislike of dissenters and non-conformists and was ever alert to what they might be doing. He seemed perfect for our purpose, since he was also an ambitious and vain man. Such people love nothing better than to show off their knowledge, especially if they believe it must exceed what others know. All that was needed was to arrange for a suitable person to urge him on and supply the admiration he so craved, then listen to what he revealed. Thus we might gain some insight into the gentry and wandering preachers at the same time. If some of these were offering shelter and silence, we might discover them.’
‘I understand, sir,’ Adam said. ‘Yet Dr. Ross, from all that I have heard, might as easily alert suspicion as disclose it.’
‘One aspect of my work is paramount, Dr. Bascom,’ Mr. Wicken replied. ‘I need to be a most sound judge of men and women. In this case, I failed miserably. I often seek out those with weaknesses of character. Such are of the greatest use to me. I thought I understood enough of Dr. Ross’s weaknesses to use him for my purpose. I did not. I thought I could control his actions. Again, I was wrong. Worst of all, I thought I could use him in a limited way, without his knowledge, and leave him much as before. Instead, I may have provoked his death. Yet, please believe me, I neither intended that outcome nor had any part in bringing it about.’
Mr. Wicken paused to take a second great draught of punch, for he had been speaking almost without a break. Adam was fascinated by the tale that was unfolding. He did not doubt that it was true, just as he believed at once Mr. Wicken’s assertion that he had not planned, nor brought about, the archdeacon’s death. Whether what was being revealed to him was the whole truth…well, that was another matter. For the moment, he would wait to discover what more his visitor had to say.
Since Mr. Wicken now seemed reluctant to go on, Adam assumed that everything he had said so far was of small importance. What came next must be the crucial element of his story. He had to call up considerable resolve to proceed. ‘Dr. Bascom. What I am now going to relate is of a most secret nature. Most of those with whom I work would believe me mad even to go as far as I have. Yet if we are going to assist each other, as I hope we will, you must understand the situation in complete detail. Still, I must needs point out that what you will learn here is of the gravest importance to the defence of our country against vicious and implacable foes. If they knew how far we understood their purposes, they would change their strategy and we would need to begin again. I am trusting in your good sense and discretion. If my trust is misplaced, it will ruin us both.’
‘Your words are far from comforting, sir,’ Adam said. ‘Part of me wishes to avoid such a heavy responsibility and would have you stop at once. Yet another part, probably the strongest, is so intrigued by your narrative that to walk away without knowing more feels unbearable. Proceed, Mr. Wicken. I am a loyal Englishman. I am also well used to hearing matters that demand total silence on my part.’
‘Thank you again for your honesty, doctor,’ Mr. Wicken replied. ‘If you did not feel uncertainty of the highest degree about the wisdom of allowing me to continue, I should mistrust you at once.
19
The Archdeacon Unleashed
The same day
Again, Mr. Wicken paused and drank. He seemed totally immersed in the recollection of this period of frustration and indecision. It was as if he had forgotten Adam’s presence. Now he was talking to himself, reviewing for the thousandth time what he knew, what he reasoned and what still lay beyond his grasp. Adam imagined his mind running over the meagre facts again and again, looking for anything missed, inferences passed over, links ignored. The silence grew longer.
At last, he spoke again. ‘By means I need not disclose, we found that the activity of our mystery group was focused on a small area in the north of this county. It seemed to cover the coast between Wells and Cromer, with a focus on Gressington. Their actions were purposeful, but we could make little sense of them. We also knew the local smugglers used places around this area to bring contraband ashore from larger vessels standing well out to sea. The German Ocean is large, doctor, and full of dangerous shoals and sandbanks. Ideal waters for any ship that wishes to be unobserved or elude capture.
‘Our only hope was to find where the people in whom we were interested assembled before being taken out to sea. We needed someone who might pick up rumours of hidden comings and goings from amongst the great houses in the area. Someone who might also remark on any sudden increase in the passage of so-called preachers or dissident ministers. We needed someone like Dr. Nathaniel Ross, the recently appointed Archdeacon of Norwich.’
‘Could you trust him?’ Adam said, amazed. ‘From what I have heard that would be risky indeed. The man was, if you will pardon my frankness, a most contumacious, narrow-minded and damnable bigot.’
‘You have him captured, sir. No, of course we did not trust him. Indeed, we went to great lengths to make sure he knew nothing of our existence. Our intent was to make use of him to flush the group into the open. He had no need to know what I have told you. We did not wish him to do anything he did not do already. All we wanted was for him to continue to stir up controversy and damn all who questioned the status quo. Revolutionaries are hot-headed. We hoped that they would not be able to restrain themselves from fighting back. We have found from our experience in Ireland that open denunciations of Popery are always met with a violent response. Thus the Irish rebels reveal themselves to us. Maybe this group would do the same.
‘Our plan was to have Dr. Ross talk openly about what he saw and heard to the person we had instructed to become his friend and confidant. That was our mistake. We should have known – I should have known – how unwise it was to assume anything of the actions of someone so obsessed.’
‘You mentioned a confidant,’ Adam said.
‘That is the person I am asking you to visit, doctor,’ Mr. Wicken said. ‘He may tell you about his part in this in greater detail, if he trusts you. For our purposes at that time, nothing mattered save that Dr. Ross should look out for any group meeting in secret, especially one holding views he would find unacceptable.’
‘He took your bait.’
‘Indeed he did. Sadly, it seemed not so much to sharpen his attention as to inflame his passions. He began to preach ever more wildly of the evils of dissent. He accused all manner of persons of the most heinous crimes against God. Instead of directing his gaze towards groups of a clandestine nature, he hurled his venom everywhere. Wesleyans, Quakers, Unitarians and anyone not of his opinion on theological matters were fair game. We should have stepped back and had no more to do with him. It was plain that he was more like to scare the quarry away than point to their presence. My only excuse is, I own, a poor one. I was desperate; at the end of my resources. In my stupidity, I tried to recover what I should have abandoned. I told our agent to suggest to Ross that he had heard of one group of ill-minded persons, based somewhere around Gressington.’
‘So Dr. Ross went off to Gressington to find them,’ Adam said.
‘Worse than that. He seems to have gone to confront them himself. He fed his ambition and pride on fantasies of catching the criminals and parading his cleverness to the world. What better way to discountenance his detractors? How he thought he had identified these persons I cannot say, for he told no one.’
‘Whoever he found, the result was his death.’
‘Perhaps. That remains unclear. What was most glaring was that his death, with the subsequent enquiries it must bring, would frighten away the people we most wanted to apprehend. Now I am sure you can see why your questions – reasonable as they were – had to be discouraged so rudely. It was essential that our quarry should believe we accepted a simple explanation for the Archdeacon’s death. That we would inv
estigate no further. The local constable, Garnet, suggested a way. From the start, he was determined to brand the death an unfortunate accident. Since we did not suspect him of any other motive than laziness, which is a near-universal trait in parish constables, we followed his lead. I instructed Dr. Allsop to use the law to bring in a plausible verdict of accidental death. In doing so, he came near to overstepping the mark. Yet you did not press your doubts and I had no idea you would do more than complain to one or two friends of the stupidity of country coroners. I expected trouble from Dr. Ross’s wife and family about the verdict. None came and I was grateful. Only later did I wonder what kept them so silent. Mr. Harmsworthy was also told to accept the verdict. He too agreed, though now I also wonder about him.’
‘My brother said he was a most diligent magistrate,’ Adam said.
‘You add to my worries, doctor, but I have no time to pursue that concern. I am almost at the end of my tale and it becomes pressing for me to take my leave.’
‘Proceed, Mr. Wicken. I promise to restrain my curiosity.’
‘Most of the rest you must know. We allowed time for those concerned to believe we had lost interest, or never had any. That part of my plan worked, as did the careful attempt to direct interest far away to Lynn. We knew the smuggling gang we suspected of involvement was planning to bring ashore a large consignment of contraband at Gressington. In time we knew when. The trap was set. When it was sprung, we had the whole gang and their ship offshore, plus a good deal of contraband to please His Majesty’s Revenue. That was our cover. What we were seeking was a lone boat containing a few passengers. We found that too, though the people on board fought hard to escape.
‘The constable and the Frenchman,’ Adam said.
An Unlamented Death: A Mystery Set in Georgian England (Mysteries of Georgian Norfolk Book 1) Page 13