The house was smaller than the first one in which she had been confined. Harriet Gow wondered why they had transferred her. The new prison was also situated in open countryside. When she peered through the cracks in the shutters of the bedchamber, she could see nothing but a herd of sheep grazing in the fields. Her two guards were marginally kinder to her. The man and the woman still wore masks and still refused to answer her queries but they were less brusque with her. Harriet was handled with a little more respect. It was as if they had been reprimanded and told to treat her differently. She could see that they resented the order.
Mary Hibbert's fate still dominated her mind. Fearing the worst, she found it impossible to rest, still less to sleep. She kept thinking about her maidservant, remembering how willing and dependable she was, how proud to work for a renowned actress. Those days seemed to have gone for ever. Harriet knew in her heart that Mary Hibbert would never serve her again. Guilt stirred once more. It was only because of her that the girl had been thrown into jeopardy in the first place. Had she remained in her former employment, she would be alive and well.
When the door was unlocked, the woman brought in some food on a tray. Her husband remained in the doorway to make sure that the prisoner did not make a run for the exit. Harriet crossed over to the man.
'How long will I be kept here?' she asked.
'Until the ransom is paid,' he said coldly.
'And what if it isn't?'
He waited until his wife left the room before he answered.
'Then you won't leave here alive, Mrs Gow.'
Christopher Redmayne was forced to cool his heels at the house in Addle Street before Jonathan Bale returned. The constable was pleased to see him for once and grateful that it was far too early for him to have taken over the daily reading from the Bible to the two boys. When Sarah had taken them out of the parlour, Jonathan was left alone to exchange news with his guest. The constable came as near to expressing real excitement as he could manage.
'I caught him, Mr Redmayne,' he said with pride.
'Who?'
'One of the villains who wielded a cudgel. He tried to use it on me but I got the better of him near Paternoster Row. The fellow is in custody and will not trouble us again.'
'Tell me all,' urged Christopher.
He was thrilled to hear of the arrest, though his great delight was lessened by the fact that the prisoner had failed to confess or provide them with the names of his accomplices.
'One thing I know,' boomed Jonathan, recalling his visit to Clerkenwell. 'Those accomplices did not include Bartholomew Gow.'
'You found him?'
'Eventually.'
'And?'
'It was rather a sad tale, Mr Redmayne.'
Christopher listened to the comprehensive recital of facts, admiring Jonathan's methodical approach but wishing that he could be more succinct. At length, one suspect was eliminated from their enquiries.
'How odd!' he commented. 'The landlord of that inn was so certain that Mr Gow lived in Greer Lane.'
'So was the woman at that house,' said Jonathan. 'She assured me that he'd lodged there until quite recently. I still believe that he only used her premises on occasion but the fact remains that he denied even knowing where Greer Lane was.'
'Did you believe him, Mr Bale?'
'Implicitly.'
'Then I trust your judgement.'
'Thank you, sir,' said Jonathan, settling back into his chair. 'What of your own investigations in Shoreditch? Have you made progress?'
'Unhappily, no.'
'Why not?'
'I was badly hampered,' said Christopher. 'Before I could leave my house, I was cornered by Mr Hartwell, my client, a man with a legitimate claim on my time. And as he left, Mr Trigg arrived to ask how we were getting on and to pass on some rather startling news. And then, worst of all, when I was least ready for him, my father chose that moment to arrive from Gloucester to pay a call on me.'
'You mentioned startling news.'
'Yes, from the coachman.'
'What did he say?'
'You were not the only one to meet a man with a cudgel.'
Christopher's account was swift and concise. Jonathan's eyebrows lifted with interest when he heard that the other probable killer of Mary Hibbert had been brought out into the open.
'Why didn't Mr Trigg get help to arrest the villain?'
'He was more interested in revenge.'
'The man he assaulted must have been the accomplice to the rogue who attacked me. I'll wager he answers to the name of Ben. What was the tavern where this happened?'
'The Hope and Anchor.'
'Then we may be in luck, Mr Redmayne.'
'Why?'
'I know it well from my days as a shipwright. The place is not unused to brawls but it's not often that someone is beaten senseless on its doorstep. Someone will know who the victim was. I'll ask around.'
'Let me come with you,' volunteered Christopher.
'I'd rather go alone, sir. No disrespect,' he said, looking at his visitor's smart apparel, 'but you would not exactly blend in with the patrons of the Hope and Anchor. Seafaring men can be suspicious of outsiders and that's what you are. I'll go myself tonight, though not in the office of a constable. I'll find out what I can about the beating that Mr Trigg claims that he handed out.'
'I'm sure that he wasn't lying. He was so gleeful.'
'I don't see any occasion for glee.'
'Nor do I,' admitted Christopher. 'My visit to Shoreditch was not as productive as your sojourn in Clerkenwell.'
'Did you meet Jeremy Vye?'
'Yes, and your friend was most helpful. He picked out the right house for me and even warned me about Blackie.' 'Blackie?'
'Mrs Lingard's dog.'
Christopher launched into a second attenuated account. The details of his adventures in Old Street kept his host entranced. Christopher did not spare himself from blame.
'I was a fool,' he confessed. 'Martin Eldridge tricked me. While I was waiting for him to fetch that letter, he was legging it down the street. Blackie made sure that I couldn't pursue him immediately.'
'What do you conclude, Mr Redmayne?'
'That the slippery actor is embroiled somehow in this affair.'
'But he's a close friend of Mrs Gow's. You said yourself that he spoke very warmly of her. Why should he want to harm a lady he obviously cared for, Mr Redmayne?'
'Why should he take to his heels and run?'
'That still doesn't make him party to a kidnap.'
'No,' agreed Christopher, 'but it does put him on the list of people I'd like to question. Only next time, I'll have the sense to stand between him and the door.' A self-deprecating smile. 'And to take a bone with me for Blackie.'
'It's been a day of exchanges,' mused Jonathan.
'Exchanges?'
'Yes, sir. We lost one suspect - Mr Gow - and gained another in the person of Mr Eldridge. We lost one villain - this man called Ben - and traded him for an accomplice who made the mistake of attacking me.'
'But why, Mr Bale?'
'I've been wondering about that.'
'How did they know who you were and where you lived?' said Christopher, running a hand through his hair. 'My brother Henry was more visible. He was seen making enquiries at the theatre. But you've been far more discreet. How did they know you were working with me?'
'I'll ask this fellow, Ben, when I catch up with him.'
'It's almost as if someone is watching us.'
'Mr Eldridge, perhaps?' 'No, someone else. It unsettles me.'
'What next, sir?'
'You pay a visit to the Hope and Anchor while I try to find a missing actor. I won't let him slip away again, I promise you.' Christopher rose to his feet then paused. 'I've just had a curious thought.'
'What is it, Mr Redmayne?'
'Why was the ransom note sent to His Majesty?'
'The King is not unknown to Mrs Gow,' said Jonathan with evident distaste. 'And who else could
command that amount of money?'
'Oh, there are gentlemen in her life with wealth enough to pay such a demand. Yet they, as far as we know, were not approached. The kidnap was arranged with the express purpose of embarrassing His Majesty.'
'So?'
'Three separate intentions may lie behind the abduction.'
'What are they?'
'First and foremost, to secure the ransom money.'
'They'll obviously kill to get that,' said Jonathan ruefully. 'Five thousand pounds is a vast figure. It could set someone up for life.'
'Let's move on to the second intention,' advised Christopher as he cogitated. 'Someone wishes to strike directly at His Majesty, to hurt his feelings and to wound his pride by seizing his favourite companion from right under his nose.'
'If only it was simply the royal nose she was under!'
'Now, now, Mr Bale.'
'Truth will out, sir.'
'Ours is not to pass moral judgements.'
'Perhaps not. What is the third intention, Mr Redmayne?'
'The most intriguing in some ways.'
'Why?'
'Because it doesn't concern money at all. Perhaps not even revenge. It turns on one avowed purpose. To bring a decisive end to the friendship between His Majesty and Harriet Gow.'
'An end?'
'The lady will hardly wish to continue a relationship which has brought her such suffering. And I suspect that His Majesty will wish to disentangle himself as well. What I believe,' said Christopher, 'is that we're looking for a man with a passion for Mrs Gow that's been over-shadowed by her involvement with the King. The obvious candidate was the embittered husband.'
'Bartholomew Gow can be acquitted. I'm certain of it.'
'That leaves us with another man who's enjoyed her favours but who, since His Majesty's interest was sparked off, has been pushed completely into oblivion.'
'What's his name?'
'I've already told you,' said Christopher. 'Martin Eldridge.'
Roland Trigg was in conciliatory mood for once. Confronted by an angry visitor at the house in Rider Street, he did his best to pacify the man. They were in the stable at the rear of the property. The coachman had been grooming the horses when he was interrupted.
'Calm down, Mr Eldridge,' he soothed. 'Calm down, sir.'
'How can I be calm at a time like this?'
'I know how you feel, sir.'
'Who's behind this kidnap?' demanded Martin Eldridge, shaking with fury. 'Tell me, Mr Trigg.'
'If only I could. I'd like his name so that I can get my own back for this,' he said, pointing to his injuries. 'I managed to take some revenge, though. One of the men who attacked me was given a sound beating of his own. He'll be more careful around Roland Trigg from now on.'
'One of the kidnappers?'
'Yes, I recognised him.'
'Has he been apprehended?'
The coachman told him the story that he had already related to Christopher Redmayne and the actor's expression changed from hope to disappointment. Eldridge was no nearer finding out who the real culprit was for the abduction of Harriet Gow. He became more agitated.
'Why did you bring me that message?' he asked.
'Because I was told to, sir.'
'By Harriet herself?'
'Who else? I take orders from nobody but Mrs Gow.'
'Why should she wish to cancel the arrangement?'
'She didn't say.'
'And why not send me a letter?'
'There was no time, Mr Eldridge. It was a decision taken at the last minute. That's why I arrived in Shoreditch so early in the day. Believe me, sir,' said Trigg fervently, 'I'm as eager as you are to have this mystery explained. Not only because of the beating I took. There's the business of Mary Hibbert.'
'Mary?'
'They killed her.'
'Surely not!' exclaimed Eldridge.
'No question about it. They wanted us to know how serious they were in their threats. We're left in no doubt now.'
'Why did Mr Redmayne make no mention of this?'
'I've no idea.'
'He only told me about the abduction and the beatings.'
'Strange!'
'I'm glad I know the truth,' said Eldridge, looking around uneasily. 'It shows how precarious Harriet's position is. Tell me all you know, Mr Trigg. I've the feeling that Mr Redmayne held a number of things back.'
'I can't add anything,' said the other cautiously. 'I'm only a victim of the kidnap. Mr Redmayne is the man to speak to, sir.'
'He was asking too many uncomfortable questions.'
'Someone has to.'
'But why him? What's his interest in Harriet Gow? He's only an architect. I know that his brother was cudgelled outside the theatre but is that really enough to make him abandon his work to take up this case?' Eldridge was baffled. 'Who is Christopher Redmayne?'
'He could be our salvation, sir.'
'In what way?'
'Mr Redmayne is a dedicated man. Whatever his reasons for getting involved, I admire him. He's our only hope,' Trigg stressed, clenching his teeth. 'Christopher Redmayne is the one person who may get to Mrs Gow in time to save her.'
His second meeting of the day with Jonathan Bale had been productive and reassuring. One man was in custody and a second might be found by means of enquiries at the Hope and Anchor. Christopher was still smarting at the way he had let Martin Eldridge escape his clutches and he was determined to make amends for his error. Finding the fugitive actor was his main priority but he first decided to return home in case any important messages had been left for him. He rode into Fetter Lane with some trepidation, fearing that he might be caught again by an irate client, a truculent coachman or an inconvenient parent but there were no coaches outside his house. He allowed himself to relax until he noticed Jacob emerging from the front door.
'I saw you through the window,' explained the servant. 'Thank goodness you've come back!'
'Why?'
'Your visitor has been waiting the best part of an hour.'
'It's not Mr Hartwell again?'
'No, Mr Redmayne. Nor that foul-mouthed Mr Trigg.'
'My father, then?' said Christopher, bracing himself against what might turn out to be the worst of the three. 'Who is it, Jacob?'
'The gentleman wouldn't give his name.'
'Yet you let him into my house?'
'He has an air of such authority about him, sir.'
'We'll see about that,' said Christopher, dropping from the saddle and handing the reins to Jacob. 'Tether him. I'll be leaving again soon.'
He went purposefully into the house to confront his anonymous guest but stopped dead when he saw who it was.
'Mr Chiffinch!'
William Chiffinch rose from his chair and gave a faint nod.
'I'm glad you've come back at last,' he said.
'It's only a brief visit. We have picked up the scent this time.'
'Then you should have had the grace to send us a report to that effect. His Majesty is in a state of continuous anguish. Tell me something that can at least allay his anxiety.'
'I'll try, Mr Chiffinch.'
Christopher told him in outline what had transpired since their last encounter. Chiffinch showed a flicker of approval when he heard of the arrest of Jonathan Bale's attacker, but the flight of Martin Eldridge only gained a look of scorn. He seemed faintly disappointed by the vindication of Bartholomew Gow.
'So the husband may be cleared of involvement?'
'According to Mr Bale.'
'It seems that the worthy constable has been appreciably more successful than you in his work,' said Chiffinch, letting his eyebrow issue a muted reprimand. 'What do you intend to do about it, Mr Redmayne?'
'Redeem myself by finding Mrs Gow.'
'That's not an option that will remain open for long, I fear.'
'Why not?'
'I come here with grim tidings. His Majesty was most insistent that you heard the news at once. That's why I took the unusual step of
arriving on your doorstep in person.'
'I guessed that your mission must be important.'
'Very important, Mr Redmayne.' Taking a letter from inside his coat, he handed it over. 'That came to the Palace this afternoon.'
'From the kidnappers?'
'Read it for yourself.'
When Christopher did, he blenched. An already fraught situation had taken on a new and more menacing turn. He held up the letter.
'They may be trying to bluff us, Mr Chiffinch.'
'Was the murder of Mary Hibbert an act of bluff? No, sir. We have to take them at their word. You have less than twenty-four hours to unmask and capture the villains. They could not have put it more bluntly,' Chiffinch said, taking the missive back. 'If the ransom is not paid by sunset tomorrow, Harriet Gow will be executed.'
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
While their visitor was in the house, Sarah Bale made no comment on the rumpled condition in which her husband returned home. As soon as Christopher Redmayne left, however, she was able to take a closer look at Jonathan. She clicked her tongue in mock disapproval.
'Look at the state of you!' she chided.
'What do you mean, Sarah?'
'Your coat's dirty, your sleeve's torn, there's a bruise on your cheek and - yes,' she said, inspecting a stain on his shoulder, 'this looks like blood to me.'
'It's not mine, I assure you.'
'Where've you been, Jonathan?'
'Making an arrest.'
'Well, that sleeve will have to be mended before I can send you out again. And I'll want to brush some of that filth off. What will the neighbours say if you're seen abroad like that?' Anxiety took over. 'Do you have any other bruises?'
'One or two on my arms, that's all.'
'Do be careful, Jonathan.'
'I always am.'
'I want my husband coming back to me in one piece.'
'The man resisted arrest: I had to subdue him. He's in a far worse condition than me, Sarah.' He took off his coat. 'But I was going to change in any case. I have to go out again.'
'So soon?'
'I'm afraid so.'
'What about the children? I'm just going to put them to bed.'
'I'll read to them before I go.'
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