The King's Return: (Thomas Hill 3) (Thomas Hill Novels)

by Andrew Swanston

Joseph laughed. ‘There are not many bigger arses in London. It probably was.’

  ‘I wonder why she hates Josiah so much. I must ask him. What happens to Stoner now, Joseph?’

  ‘He’ll stay here at least until we’ve received the money. In due course, arrangements for his voyage to Copenhagen will be made. A month or two probably.’

  ‘It seems unjust. Murderer, thief, traitor and now off to Denmark.’

  ‘Unjust? I will find work for him and I prefer to think of it as expedient. The world of intelligence is like that.’ He paused. ‘And how is Madeleine?’

  ‘Much improved. You should come and see her.’

  ‘I shall, as soon as this business is over.’

  ‘What about Squire?’

  ‘I fear we are too late for him. He will have left England by now. I blame myself, of course. I never suspected him and if there were any signs of his treachery, I missed them. The king will not be pleased.’

  ‘Bishop missed them too, Joseph, and with or without Squire the spy ring is broken.’

  ‘Yes. I shall be sure to stress that to His Majesty.’

  ‘And I shall tell Madeleine to expect you soon.’

  Joseph took a deep breath. ‘I suppose we had better see Morland. Are you feeling strong?’

  ‘Not very.’

  ‘Nor I. Still, it has to be done.’

  The warder was despatched again and soon returned with Morland. Beside his fury, Molly’s was as nothing. He marched in spluttering with rage and thrashing about with his arms as if he had lost control of them.

  ‘This is monstrous,’ he shouted. ‘I am being held here on some ridiculous pretext and I demand to be released at once.’

  Joseph’s voice was icy. ‘Be quiet, Morland. You will remain here until I decide to release you. Until then you would do well to guard your tongue.’

  Morland pointed at Thomas and bellowed, ‘Why is this man here again? What authority does he have?’

  ‘Mr Hill has my authority to be here. He needs no other.’

  ‘I suppose you are going to tell me that he has decoded the intercepted letter and that my name is in it.’

  ‘Would you care to comment, Thomas?’

  Thomas looked hard at Morland and spoke slowly. ‘The letter was, as I suspected, a cipher, each letter being represented by one or more numbers. I decrypted it by means of logical analysis and rational thought – two qualities to which you yourself lay claim.’

  Morland looked sceptical. ‘And what, pray, did this letter tell you?’

  Thomas looked at Joseph, who nodded. ‘That there is a ring of spies in London and that the Dutch and French are plotting against England.’

  Morland stared at Joseph and scoffed. ‘Ha. There are spies everywhere. There is nothing new in that. But now you believe that I am one of them, or you pretend that you do.’

  ‘And are you one of them?’

  ‘That is absurd. You find my name on a scrap of paper and lose your wits. You would do better to interrogate this man.’ Again he pointed at Thomas. ‘Ask him if he invented a decryption to suit his own ends. Ask him if it is my position he is after. Ask him which master he serves.’

  ‘Now that is absurd,’ said Thomas calmly. ‘There is nothing I should like less than your position, as Mr Williamson knows. And I have shown him how I decrypted the letter. I did it within forty-eight hours, as I said I would. It was not difficult.’

  Morland turned his fury on to Joseph. ‘This is a plot. A plot to have me removed from my post. I demand to be released immediately.’

  ‘So you have said. However, you will remain here while we continue to conduct our enquiries. You will be released only if your innocence is proven.’

  Thomas thought Morland was about to explode. He shook his fists and spittle flew from his mouth. ‘That is despicable and illegal. The king shall hear of it and you will pay dearly.’ The warder was alarmed enough to draw his sword.

  ‘Take him away, warder, and guard him carefully.’ Still bawling, Morland was ushered out at the point of the warder’s sword.

  ‘Do you really still think he’s involved?’ asked Thomas, Morland’s threats ringing in his ears.

  Joseph smiled. ‘No. But I think we can justify keeping him here until Squire is found.’

  ‘What about the king?’

  ‘We will risk the king’s displeasure.’

  ‘A risk worth taking for the pleasure of holding him in the Tower.’

  Joseph turned his good eye on Thomas and grinned. ‘Quite so. My thanks for your assistance, Thomas. Are you quite sure you would not like Morland’s position?’

  ‘Quite sure, thank you. May I go home now? I have seen enough of this place today.’

  ‘Go. If we find anything at Squire’s house, I shall send word. And tell Madeleine I shall call on her soon.’

  Thomas had never seen Mary so angry. ‘What on earth is Joseph thinking of,’ she thundered, ‘sending the man off to Denmark? Why isn’t he going to hang? That’s what happens to thieves and traitors, isn’t it? I’ve a good mind to go straight to Joseph’s house to tell him what I think of him.’

  ‘I agree with you, my dear,’ said Charles. ‘Justice is hardly served by allowing a traitor to trade the gallows for a life of ease among the Danes.’

  ‘Perhaps there are forces at work of which we are not aware. Joseph spoke of expediency.’

  ‘You are too philosophical, Thomas. Joseph should have sent Stoner to the gallows and he hasn’t. May the thieving wretch rot in hell.’ Mary was not in the mood for argument.

  ‘And don’t forget they haven’t caught Squire yet,’ pointed out Charles. ‘He’s just as guilty as Stoner. Joseph must be furious at himself for not seeing through the man.’

  ‘As we did not see through Stoner,’ agreed Mary. ‘I can’t think what possessed us to trust him.’

  ‘There is nothing to be gained from dwelling on it,’ said Madeleine firmly. ‘I am recovered and you can afford the loss of a few guineas and your pride. Lady Babb has suffered more.’ She paused. ‘Now, I am quite well enough to go home. Will you take me tomorrow, Thomas?’

  ‘Of course, if that’s what you want.’

  ‘It is. I should never have recovered without all of you, but now I miss my own bed.’

  ‘Quite right, my dear,’ said Charles with a grin. ‘I much prefer my own bed with my own wife. Nothing else compares.’ If Mary’s aim had been just a little better, the apple would have hit him between the eyes.

  CHAPTER 22

  AT BREAKFAST THE next morning, neither Charles nor Mary looked as if they had slept at all. Mary’s face was red and puffy and Charles had black rings under his eyes.

  ‘Are you both well?’ asked Thomas. ‘You look exhausted.’

  ‘Not much sleep. Things to think about,’ replied Charles, barely looking up from his plate. Mary smiled sweetly and said nothing. Thomas thought it best not to ask about their ‘things’ and to leave them in peace to think about them.

  ‘As I came here with nothing more than I was standing up or, rather, lying down in, it won’t take me long to prepare,’ Madeleine told Thomas. ‘I shall be ready in an hour.’

  ‘And I shall be ready to escort you.’

  Charles and Mary had recovered sufficiently to wave the carriage off. ‘Do take care, Madeleine,’ advised Mary. ‘Thomas is terribly prone to unfortunate accidents.’

  ‘Do not concern yourselves. I shall keep him well guarded.’

  ‘Wonderful people,’ said Madeleine in the carriage. ‘You must tell me how you came to meet them and about Barbados.’

  ‘Not all of it is fit for the ears of a lady, my dear.’

  ‘I shall want to hear those bits first.’

  At Madeleine’s house, the door was opened by a beaming Agnes. ‘At last, Miss Stewart,’ she declared. ‘I had fallen to thinking you’d never come back. Are you recovered?’

  ‘Quite recovered, Agnes, thank you.’

  ‘Good day, Mr Hill. Mottershead tells me
you and he have had a fine old time together.’

  ‘Does he now?’ Josiah’s instructions had not included gossiping with Agnes. What else had the little man been up to? ‘Has Josiah been doing his job? I asked him to make sure you and the house were safe.’

  ‘Oh yes, sir. Mottershead’s been most attentive. Called almost every day.’

  Thomas glanced at Madeleine, who raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s good, Agnes, and how are you?’

  ‘Never better, madam. And Mottershead’s done a few little jobs around the house. He’s clever with his hands. You’ll see the difference.’

  When they went in, they did see the difference. Newly painted walls, a broken chair mended, a cracked window replaced, the floor polished. Josiah had done more than a few little jobs.

  ‘I do hope you looked after him, Agnes. Did you feed him well?’

  ‘Oh yes. I told him he had to keep his strength up and gave him a good dinner whenever he was here.’

  ‘Excellent. Now Mr Hill and I have much to discuss. We will be in my bedroom.’

  ‘Very good, madam. Will Mr Hill be staying for dinner?’

  ‘He will.’

  In the bedroom, Madeleine wasted no time. She simply undressed and got into bed. Thomas followed suit. ‘Now, Thomas,’ she whispered, ‘it is so long since we last did this that I can barely remember what it was like. Would you care to refresh my memory?’

  ‘Alas, my dear, I too have quite forgotten. We shall have to refresh each other’s memories.’ He kissed her. ‘Does that help?’

  ‘A little. Try again.’

  It took several tries before Madeleine fully recovered her memory, but when she did, Thomas found it to be excellent in every particular. Being confined to her bed for so long had somehow increased her vigour, as if she had been storing up her strength for this occasion. After two hours of strenuous work, Thomas pleaded hunger and went in search of food.

  He found Agnes in the kitchen polishing a pair of boots. ‘Mottershead does like clean boots,’ she said.

  ‘He’s a fortunate fellow to have you to clean them for him, Agnes. Our discussions are taking longer than expected and we need refreshment. Can you help?’

  ‘Course I can, sir. You go back to your discussions and I’ll bring you a plate of chicken and a bottle.’

  Hours later, having sampled Agnes’s fare and taken yet more exercise, they fell asleep as day became night and did not stir until the morning.

  Thomas was woken by Agnes calling through the door, ‘Mottershead is here, Mr Hill, and asks to see you at once. Mrs Carrington told him you were here.’

  ‘Now what?’ grumbled Thomas, rubbing sleep from his eyes. ‘Tell Mottershead I am not yet dressed and he must wait ten minutes.’

  Mottershead, stick in one hand and hat in the other, his boots newly polished, was waiting in Madeleine’s sitting room. ‘My apologies, Mr ’Ill, sir, but I thought I’d better come at once.’

  ‘So I see, Josiah. And what is so urgent that it brings you here at this hour?’

  ‘It’s Molly, sir, Stoner’s ’ore, if you recall.’

  ‘I do recall, Josiah, and what of her?’

  ‘She came to my ’ouse last night. Said she’d seen Lemuel Squire, or thought she ’ad. Said she’d seen ’is arse, if you’ll pardon me, sir. Said she’d know it anywhere.’

  ‘And where did Molly think she saw this arse?’

  ‘Drury Lane, sir. Disappearing into an alley. She followed it, but it must ’ave gone into an ’ouse and she lost it.’

  ‘Hardly a clear sighting, Josiah. Do you think she’s telling the truth?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Although the woman was less than pleased to see you when last you met, as I recall.’

  Josiah laughed. ‘Oh no, sir. Molly loves me like a brother. I saved ’er from Newgate once. It’s just ’er way of showing it.’

  ‘So what do you propose that we do, Josiah? I am not feeling at my strongest this morning.’

  ‘I’m sorry to ’ear that, sir, because I was ’oping you’d want to come with me.’

  ‘To Drury Lane, Josiah? Last time you did your best to dissuade me from going there.’

  ‘Yes, sir. But this is different. If we tell Mr Williamson, ’e’ll send in the trained bands and it’s no place for them. As soon as they’re within ’alf a mile of the lane, word’ll go out and every thief and murderer ’iding there’ll disappear. There’s places around the lane that can ’ide a man for ever if ’e wants.’

  ‘So what makes you think you can find Squire if he’s there?’

  ‘I know the place as well as anyone, sir, and there’s a good few who owes me a favour.’

  ‘Like Molly?’

  ‘That’s it, sir. Like Molly.’

  ‘Do you really need me, Josiah? Couldn’t you find someone else?’

  ‘Daresay I could, sir. Just thought you’d like to be there when we catch ’im, after all the trouble ’e’s caused you.’

  ‘Josiah, I am forty-seven years old, I do not care for violence and I came to London simply to see my old friends Charles and Mary Carrington and to attend the coronation. Yet I have been dragged into fraud, espionage, treachery, abduction and murder. Furthermore, Miss Stewart is asleep and would not be pleased to awake and find me gone. I really do not want to accompany you to one of the nastiest parts of the city in the hope of finding Lemuel Squire.’

  For a moment Thomas thought Josiah was going to cry. ‘That is most disappointing, sir. I ’ad thought that you would want to complete the job before going ’ome. I ’ad you down as a man who likes to finish what ’e’s started, and isn’t afraid of going nowhere. Seems I was wrong.’

  Thomas eyed the little man. Not just a man of action. Just like his master, quite up to a little subtle persuasion and not easy to refuse. Then a thought struck him. A little distasteful but in the circumstances . . . ‘Josiah, I might be persuaded to accompany you in return for a small favour.’

  Josiah looked alarmed. In his line of work, he must be asked for some strange favours. ‘And what favour would that be, sir?’

  Thomas took a deep breath and told him about his niece Lucy Taylor and Master Arthur Phillips who worked in the Navy Office. ‘My niece appears rather attached to him,’ he said, ‘although I have reason to believe that he is not the kind of young man with whom she should be consorting. I would be pleased if he happened to leave London, for personal reasons perhaps, or having been posted elsewhere.’

  Josiah grinned. ‘Is that all, sir? Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll ’ave a word with the young man myself. Arthur Phillips at the Navy Office. Consider it done.’

  ‘Thank you, Josiah. No rough stuff, mind, just a little persuasion.’

  ‘Leave it to me, sir,’ said Josiah, tapping the side of his nose. ‘Master Phillips is about to take a fierce dislike to London. Now what about your side of the bargain?’

  ‘Very well, Josiah. I’ll come with you. If we don’t find Squire this morning, however, that will be that. No more escapades for me.’

  ‘Understood, sir. We’ll be back in good time for our dinner, just you mark my words.’

  ‘And if we’re not?’

  ‘Then Agnes will know what to do. Bring your purse and ’ide it under your shirt. We might need money and we don’t want your pocket picked.’

  Thomas thought better of asking why they might need money. He went to fetch his purse. ‘Lead on, then, Josiah. Once more unto the breach . . .’

  ‘What, sir?’

  ‘Never mind, Josiah.’

  At that time of the morning, Fleet Street was still quiet. They saw only a milkmaid, a baker’s boy delivering bread, and on the corner of Carting Lane a whore hoping for a late-night reveller on his way home. They joined Drury Lane near Wild Street. In the lane, the drain which ran down one side was already full of the night’s waste, waiting for rain to wash it down to the river. While Thomas kept the handkerchief pressed to his nose, Josiah appeared not to notice. He strode on up the lane tow
ards Holborn until they came to a dark alley which was little more than a hole between two hovels. Josiah stopped there and turned to Thomas.

  ‘This is where Molly saw ’im,’ he said, ‘’is arse disappearing down ’ere.’ He pointed to the alley. ‘It’s a nasty place. More than one on the king’s death list ’as ’idden in ’ere. Is your purse safe?’ Thomas nodded. ‘Good. Stay close to me, sir, and speak to no one. The moment they ’ear your voice, we’re in trouble. Let me do the talking.’

  Thinking that he would be perfectly happy to go back to Madeleine’s bed and let Josiah do everything, Thomas peered into the alley. Other than a few yards of narrow lane, he could see nothing. The houses on either side were so close that it must always be dark down there. And the stench was worse even than in the lane itself. He would not be wandering more than a foot from Josiah and he would not be engaging any of the inhabitants of this hellish place in conversation.

  No more than ten steps into the alley and their path was blocked. The same one-eyed giant whom they had met in Drury Lane on their way to Henrietta’s stepped out of a doorway and held out his hand.

  ‘A shilling, sir, if you please,’ whispered Josiah. He took the coin from Thomas and handed it to the giant. ‘We’re looking for a friend,’ he told the man, ‘thought ’e might be staying around ’ere. Plump fellow, big arse. We’ve another shilling if you can tell us where ’e is.’

  The giant held out his hand again, so Thomas passed Josiah another coin, which was grabbed and dropped down the giant’s shirt. They waited for him to speak. Without a word, however, and two shillings better off, the giant simply disappeared back into the dark doorway from which he had emerged.

  Josiah shrugged. ‘’Ope you’ve got plenty of shillings, sir. Looks like we’re going to need them.’

  They continued on down the alley, their eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness, to a point at which it turned so sharply to the left that it almost ran back on itself. By this time, word of strangers must have spread and Thomas was aware of movement in the shadows and eyes on his back. The dwellings on either side must have been connected by a network of passages allowing people to move around and messages to be passed, unseen by anyone in the alley. The hairs on his neck stood up. To be seen yet not to see – it was loathsome.