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

by Andrew Swanston

  ‘If you mean two men running like stags, yes they did. Who were they?’

  Josiah grinned. ‘I never trust the militia, sir, so I thought to bring along a little ’elp. Just in case, as it were.’

  ‘As well you did. Let’s hope they caught the fugitives.’ From the direction of Leadenhall, there was the sound of laughter and, as if on cue, the two tall runners appeared holding two hooded figures between them.

  ‘Ah, ’ere are the boys, sir, and they seem to ’ave caught something,’ said Josiah. ‘Well done, lads. Miss ’Enrietta will be pleased when I tell ’er.’ Oliver and Rupert had shed their yellow satin in favour of black shirts and trousers for the occasion, but there was no mistaking them. As they approached, two of Joseph’s men clattered up from the opposite direction, pistols drawn and swords rattling at their sides.

  Thomas stepped forward and pulled back the shorter prisoner’s hood. He found himself looking at a plump, plain face, red with exertion and exuding fury. The thin lips pursed and spat at him. He wiped away the spittle and stared into a pair of narrow, livid eyes. ‘Well, well. If I’m not mistaken, Madame Louise d’Entrevaux. How unexpected. Enchanté, madame.’

  Louise d’Entrevaux’s reply was a look of the most venomous loathing that Thomas had ever seen. If Rupert had not been holding her, she would certainly have leapt at him and tried to scratch his eyes out.

  He pulled down the other hood. ‘And could this be Monsieur d’Entrevaux?’

  One Alchemist would have been a fine catch. Two was more than they could possibly have hoped for. They must be delivered to Joseph without delay. ‘If Oliver and Rupert would care to hand over their prisoners, we will escort them back to Cheapside and they can return to Drury Lane with our grateful thanks.’ He was rewarded with two deep bows and two enormous grins.

  ‘Thank you, lads,’ said Josiah. ‘Tell ’Enrietta I’ll call in the morning.’ The lads handed over their prisoners to the guards and strode off chuckling.

  At the house Josiah opened the door and stood aside for the prisoners to be pushed inside by the guards. He and Thomas followed them. At first glance, the room was empty. No guards and no Joseph. But when the door slammed after them two figures stepped from behind it. One was Joseph with an arm around his neck and a knife at his throat, the other the disfigured Dutchman. The Dutchman spoke first. ‘You will place your weapons on the floor. Or this man will die.’ His eyes never left Josiah.

  ‘Kill him,’ croaked Joseph. For a moment no one moved. Thomas was the first to recover.

  ‘Do as the Dutchman says,’ he whispered. The two guards barely hesitated before unbuckling their sword belts and placing them on the floor with their pistols.

  ‘And the stick,’ growled the Dutchman. ‘I know what that can do.’ Josiah put his stick down beside the swords. ‘Now you will stand facing the wall with your hands against it.’ With his head he motioned to the wall on the other side of the room. The four of them did as they were ordered.

  For the first time Louise d’Entrevaux spoke. Her voice dripped with malice. ‘Idiots. Did you suppose we would come unprotected? Comme vous êtes foux. And now you will die for your stupidity.’ While they faced the wall, two pistols were cocked and two shots fired almost simultaneously. Both guards slumped to the floor. Thomas and Josiah jumped round. Blood poured from the guards’ heads. Louise d’Entrevaux had already thrown the pistols aside and picked up the swords. She glared at Thomas. ‘You were fortunate to break the cipher and discover the address, but not, it seems, fortunate enough. We suspected a trap and only came because we were instructed to. We insisted upon our friend accompanying us.’

  ‘Let us kill them and go,’ said her husband, shakily. Beneath the hood he was pale as a sheet.

  The Dutchman still held Joseph with a knife at his throat. ‘They will join the other two in the kitchen soon enough. First I have a score to settle. Pick up the stick, Hill, and break the little man’s knees.’ Thomas did not move. It was beyond imagining.

  ‘You are evil.’

  The Dutchman pressed the knife against Joseph’s throat and snorted. ‘Do it. Or Mr Williamson will die and I will do it myself while Madame d’Entrevaux holds the point of a sword in your mouth. Then I will remove your testicles and his eyes. Which is it to be?’

  ‘Let him kill me. Then kill them all.’ Joseph’s throat was so constricted that he was barely audible.

  ‘That might be difficult,’ sneered the Dutchman. ‘We three have this knife and two sharp swords while you have a single stick. Do as I say, Hill. Now.’ Thomas hesitated, then bent to pick up Josiah’s stick. Having never held it before, he had not realized how heavy it was.

  ‘If we are to die, why would I cripple Josiah first?’

  ‘I have explained the consequences if you do not.’

  ‘Indeed. Mutilation and death. And revenge.’ Thomas was saying whatever came into his head to gain time. The shots might have been heard and help might yet arrive.

  ‘Enough, Hill. Break his knees. NOW.’ It was the closest the disfigured man could get to a shout.

  ‘Go on, sir,’ whispered Josiah, ‘then kill him.’ He stood calmly with his back to the wall, no hint of fear in his eyes.

  Thomas hefted the stick in both hands, trying to think clearly. Josiah’s knees to gain a little more time? Or refuse and risk Joseph dying with an instant stroke of the knife? He glanced at the woman and saw the spite in her eyes. She took a step towards him and hissed, ‘Do it well or you will pay.’

  It was the malevolence in her voice that did it. Thomas moved without thought and at a speed of which he would not have thought himself capable. The stick crashed against the side of Louise d’Entrevaux’s head, sending her unconscious to the floor and the swords clattering towards Josiah. Without hesitating, Thomas turned to the Dutchman, expecting to see blood gushing from Joseph’s throat. But Joseph had seized his chance and jabbed an elbow into the Dutchman’s ribs. It had gained him just enough space to grab the man’s wrist and force the knife away from his throat. Another second or two and he would have lost his advantage, but before the Dutchman could react, Josiah was on him. He thrust his knuckles into an eye and twisted. There was a furious scream and the knife fell to the floor. Joseph stepped away and picked it up. Without a word, he turned and slashed the blade across the Dutchman’s throat and watched him slide to the floor, blood gushing from the wound. ‘No point in interrogating him,’ he said quietly. ‘We would not have got anything from him. And he’s too dangerous to live.’ The Dutchman clutched his throat, stared in disbelief at Joseph, spluttered and died.

  Monsieur d’Entrevaux was kneeling beside his wife, her head in his hands. He had taken no part in the fight and Thomas reckoned it would have made no difference if he had. He was plainly not a man of action. Madame d’Entrevaux, on the other hand, was dangerous enough for both of them. Thomas bent down and felt her neck. There was a pulse and she was breathing. ‘She is alive, Joseph,’ he said.

  ‘Good. Two more for a visit to the Tower and a few questions. Are you wounded, Thomas?’

  Thomas felt his cheek where the shot had grazed him. There was a trickle of blood. ‘It’s a scratch. She fired from too far away.’

  ‘And you, Mottershead?’

  ‘Quite well, sir, thanks to Mr ’Ill.’

  Thomas grinned and patted Josiah on the shoulder. ‘Say no more about it, Josiah. If the woman had not stepped too close, I don’t know what would have happened.’

  ‘Right, Mottershead,’ said Joseph briskly, ‘kindly go and fetch help while Thomas and I keep an eye on these two, and we’ll need the bodies removed before morning.’

  ‘Right, sir,’ replied Josiah and left them to it.

  ‘The two in the kitchen had their throats cut,’ went on Joseph. ‘God knows how he did it without my hearing. The first I knew, he had the knife at my neck. He must have seen you give chase, realized it was a trap and slipped in through the kitchen window.’

  ‘A very dangerous man indeed, not t
o mention a kidnapper and murderer. Let us hope England is a little safer without him.’

  Josiah was soon back with three trained men. One was ordered to summon the coroner to collect the bodies of the four guards, the other two to help escort the prisoners to the Tower. Josiah stayed to supervise the coroner’s men. ‘Tell Manners,’ Joseph told him, ‘that I will speak to him about the matter later today. Until then he is to say nothing. Then go home. I will send for you.’

  One of the militiamen hoisted the woman over his shoulder, the other marched her husband along by the scruff of his neck. Joseph and Thomas walked behind them. Fortunately it was not yet light and there were few people on the streets to stare at them. Those that did were ignored.

  At the Tower Gate, Joseph asked for the Constable to be sent for while the prisoners were escorted by yeomen warders to the White Tower. The militiamen he dismissed. Neither prisoner had spoken on the way there, although Louise d’Entrevaux had come round and was able to walk.

  When the Constable appeared in a state of some dishevelment, Joseph explained who the prisoners were and requested that they be locked in separate rooms with guards both inside and out. There would be no repetition of Stoner’s murder or Squire’s suicide. The two of them were taken off by the warders, leaving Thomas and Joseph with the Constable.

  The Constable was a civilized man. ‘I am at your service should you need me, gentlemen,’ he informed them. ‘Meanwhile feel free to question the prisoners as you see fit.’ He offered them refreshment, which they happily accepted, and left them to recover from their exertions.

  Joseph thanked him and raised his glass. ‘A good night’s work so far, but for you and me, Thomas, it is not over. Assuming these two are the Alchemists, how do you think we should proceed? Both together or one at a time?’

  Judging by her behaviour, the woman would be the more difficult. ‘Gentleman first, Joseph, I fancy.’

  ‘I agree. Let us see what we can get out of him before we tackle his charming wife. We will sit here and enjoy the Constable’s wine while the prisoners enjoy his hospitality and then we will have a talk with each of them.’

  The man who was brought to them an hour later was as unattractive as his wife. His cloak had been discarded and in a ragged green coat, scuffed shoes and black trousers which barely reached his ankles, he could have been a down-at-heel artist or pamphlet writer. His head and face were roughly shaven and his narrow eyes perched either side of a long, hooked nose. He produced a pair of spectacles and peered at his captors with distaste.

  ‘Are you Monsieur d’Entrevaux?’ began Joseph.

  ‘I am Henri d’Entrevaux, Doctor of Theology at the Collège de Sorbonne.’ The doctor spoke with a marked French accent but his English was otherwise perfect.

  ‘And Louise d’Entrevaux is your wife.’ The man nodded. ‘When did you arrive in England?’

  ‘Two days ago.’

  ‘Why have you come to London?’

  D’Entrevaux bridled. ‘Not that it is any of your concern, but my wife and I have come to visit her brother, Chandle Stoner. That is why we went to his house.’

  ‘At midnight.’

  ‘The journey from Dover was arduous.’

  ‘Why did you run off when the door was opened?’

  ‘My wife ran. I simply followed her.’

  Thomas and Joseph burst out laughing. ‘Do you always follow where your wife leads?’ asked Thomas.

  D’Entrevaux ignored the question. ‘I am a citizen of France and unless you have proof that I have committed a crime, I demand to be released immediately.’

  ‘Are you the Alchemist?’

  The reply was disdainful. ‘I am a Doctor of Theology. I believe in God, not magic.’

  ‘Is your wife the Alchemist?’

  ‘I suggest you ask her.’ It was a disingenuous, craven reply and it angered Joseph.

  ‘Take the wretch back to his room and bring the woman,’ he ordered the warder.

  ‘The man’s a liar and a coward,’ said Thomas, when the prisoner had been led away. ‘The Collège de Sorbonne, however, is a fierce enemy of Protestantism and of England. It is the very place we might have expected to find the Alchemist.’

  ‘Indeed it is. We’ll see what his wife has to say.’

  At first Louise d’Entrevaux had nothing to say. She simply sat in sullen silence, ignoring every question put to her. Eventually Joseph lost patience.

  ‘As you wish, madam. If you refuse to speak, I shall do so. And you would do well to listen.’

  While Joseph described in detail how the names Aurum and Argentum had become known to them and how they had realized that her brother was Argentum, Thomas watched the woman’s face for signs of fear or guilt. There were none. It was only when Joseph revealed that her brother had told them that Lemuel Squire was Aurum and had offered to spy for England in return for his own life, that Thomas saw a flash of anger in her pale eyes. She did not react to the news of Squire’s death by his own hand but when Joseph told her that her brother was also dead, she finally spoke.

  ‘I thank God. I am pleased that the coward is dead and he was not my brother, he was a half-brother. We shared a father. I hated them both.’

  ‘Yet Stoner did not betray you and he worked for you.’

  Once she had started, Louise d’Entrevaux had much to say. She had used Stoner simply as a financier, she had never trusted him and she had feared that he would one day betray them. He was a man who worked for money, not principle. She had only responded to the message and come to London because she had been ordered to by a senior minister in King Louis’s government. She had been almost sure they were walking into a trap, but the prize was so great that he had insisted on the risk being taken.

  ‘Who was the minister?’ asked Thomas.

  ‘That I shall never tell you.’

  ‘But your husband might.’

  ‘He might if he knew, but he does not.’

  ‘Do you not work together?’

  She smiled. ‘You will have to ask him.’

  ‘We have. He said that you do.’

  ‘I do not believe you. Not that it matters. His death or my own are of no consequence. It is loyalty to the Catholic faith that matters.’

  ‘Is that how you justify torture and murder?’

  ‘England is doomed. You are surrounded by enemies – our Irish friends to the west, France, Spain, and Holland to the east. You will lose your navy and your new colonies and there will be a Catholic king on your throne.’ She spat out the words like poisoned darts.

  They got nothing more of use from the woman. She would not answer questions about the Dutchman and when asked if she were the Alchemist, said only, ‘There is more than one Alchemist.’

  It was enough. ‘Take her away,’ ordered Joseph, ‘and watch them both carefully.’

  When they were alone Joseph said, ‘They will be kept here while we question them further. I have no doubt, however, that both of them will end up on the gallows.’

  ‘Have we caught the Alchemist, Joseph?’

  ‘I believe that we have caught two of them, but she was telling the truth. There are more. And England is in danger. The Dutch want our colonies and our trade and the French and Spanish want a Catholic king on our throne. And after their sufferings at Cromwell’s hands, so do the Irish.’

  ‘So what now?’

  ‘In the morning, I will release Morland and ask the king for permission for the ship to leave Southampton. Now that we have two more in the Tower, Stoner’s death can be forgotten and Charles and Mary should go home.’

  ‘Will he grant permission?’

  ‘His Majesty values loyalty more highly than anything. I hope so.’

  ‘As do I. Now, if there is nothing else tonight, Joseph, I shall go to my bed.’

  ‘Go, Thomas. I will bring you news tomorrow.’

  CHAPTER 25

  JOSEPH ARRIVED AT the house in Piccadilly the following afternoon. He found Thomas reading in the sitting room. ‘I have c
ome from Whitehall Palace,’ he announced breathlessly. ‘The king has instructed me to take no further action in the matter of Stoner’s death and to concentrate on recruiting loyal and reliable officers to the security service and the Post Office.’

  ‘Thank God.’

  ‘It was straightforward. After ten days of doing nothing, that drunken sot Manners decided that Stoner had taken his own life, although how he did so Manners could not say. I received his report this morning. This time the man’s incompetence proved useful. I passed on his opinion, without comment, to His Majesty.’

  ‘What did His Majesty say?’

  ‘He said that he was happy that both traitors had taken their own lives and that he hoped more would follow their example, as that would save the country the trouble and expense of trying and executing them.’

  ‘Then the matter is closed and I can go home.’

  Joseph shook his head. ‘Not quite closed, I’m afraid. When Morland was released he went straight to the king and made serious accusations against both of us.’

  ‘How did His Majesty respond?’

  ‘I do not yet know. I am to present myself at Whitehall at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. You are to do so an hour later. A carriage will be sent for you.’

  It was a shock. ‘Joseph, in view of my part in decrypting the letter and identifying Stoner as Argentum, not to mention finding Squire, rescuing your cousin and arresting the d’Entrevaux, is this not somewhat harsh?’

  ‘Of course it is. But we live in harsh times and the king’s temperament is mercurial. He can be easily swayed. And there is another thing. Sir Edward Nicholas returned from York yesterday. He has always favoured Morland and is likely to support him. Who knows what Morland may have told him?’

  ‘Perhaps I should leave London at once.’

  ‘I would not advise that. The king would take it as an admission of guilt and have you hunted down and hanged.’

  Something inside Thomas snapped. ‘For the love of God, Joseph, this is unjust and absurd. You know perfectly well that I have served the country loyally, and what is more, it was you who dragged me into the whole affair in the first place. I insist that you make this clear to the king.’