The Plantagenet Mystery

by Victoria Prescott

  ‘I haven’t got round to sorting out all the stuff that got knocked over when Pierson’s thugs dragged me out of here – just picked it all up and dumped it here. I know it’s here somewhere.’

  Chris leaned against the table and waited patiently.

  ‘Ah!’ Rob said triumphantly. He pulled a sheaf of photocopies out of the pile and began to leaf through them. ‘Can you remember what that document Pierson showed us looked like?’

  ‘Um – it had a line at the top, then a short line, looked like just one word, then a lot of writing. And the writing was different from the one Richard Plantagenet wrote.’

  ‘Like this?’ Rob held up a page.

  ‘Yeah, I think so. What, is that it? How did you know? Why didn’t you say anything before?’

  ‘I didn’t know I had it,’ Rob explained. ‘I only realised when Pierson asked if the name Amory meant anything to me.’

  ‘Amory was the bloke who looked after Richard when he was a kid and took him to see the King,’ Chris remembered.

  ‘Yes. And before all this started, I photocopied some papers at the record office for my thesis – nothing to do with this business. They were written by an Amory in the sixteenth century. When I read about Sir John Amory being Richard’s guardian, I wondered if there was a connection, but I never got round to finding out.’

  ‘How did Pierson know?’ Chris said. ‘He hasn’t read that document, he doesn’t know about Sir John Amory being Richard’s guardian.’

  ‘I don’t know – oh, wait a minute. Doesn’t Catherine say something in her letter to Maria?’ Rob sorted through his papers until he found the letter. ‘Yes, here it is. She thought the story was known in the Amory family too. And we know Pierson had this letter. He must have gone to look at the Amory papers just on the chance that he might find something, and he took this page – stole it.’

  Rob remembered the man who had been demanding a photocopy of a document the day he had copied the Amory papers. Had that been Pierson? He had not seen the man, but he remembered the voice, cool and contemptuous. Yes, he decided, that was Pierson.

  ‘If he couldn’t read it, how did he know to take just that page?’ Chris said.

  ‘I don’t know that he did only take that page. I’ll have to check next time I go in. But the handwriting of this page is different from the others in the bundle,’ said Rob, comparing it with the other pages. ‘And look here,’ he pointed out a couple of words.

  ‘Ashleigh. Mildmaye,’ Chris made out.

  ‘Yes. And if you can read them – ’

  ‘So could he. OK. So what does it say?’

  Stumbling now and again as he deciphered the unfamiliar writing and spelling, Rob read aloud.

  The twentith Daye of Desember in the yeare of Oure Lord mdl

  Sir

  I write to tell you of the death of hym that you know of, who indeed may be called yr kinsman, from the care that yr fader had for hym, who dyed a week since, having commended hys soule to god and in the certen knowledge of the love of Or Fader and or Savior. Wee buryed hym ystrday heer att Ashleigh in a place as neere fitting hys trew state as may bee, that hee himself dyd make, not knoweinge mine intent regarding ytt. My Brother Fynch and hys sonne and I did attend his corps to its grave and found one who wd read the service as hee wd wish.

  I have of hym a certen thyng, which may be of some worth, as much for the memory of him our friend who had it, and for the memory of hym who gave it hym, who yr fader loved well, or so it appeared from talk I had with our friend. Whch thyng hee left to mee to do as I thoght fitt. And soe I ask if you wd have itt for I think you have the better right for yr fader’s sake And if you thinke best that you have it nott then I wyll bestow it in a place hee knew of, hopeing my skill in this, that I learned from much tyme spent with our friend, may be suffnt to the task.

  Prayinge you will send by hym who beares this to yew, to let me know yr wish,

  I am yr svt in this,

  Thos: Mildmaye

  Chris listened, frowning in concentration.

  ‘He’s writing to tell this Amory bloke that Richard Plantagenet is dead?’

  ‘Yes. In 1550, two years after Richard Plantagenet wrote his life story. This is Sir William Amory he’s writing too, son of Richard’s guardian. The man who lost Ashleigh and went away to live somewhere else.’

  ‘And Thomas Mildmay’s got something that belonged to Richard Plantagenet? Is that what he said?’

  ‘Yes.’ Rob read the passage again. ‘I have of hym a certen thyng. Something that might be valuable.’

  ‘He’s asking Amory if he wants it.’

  ‘If Amory doesn’t want it, he’ll put it somewhere that Richard Plantagenet knew about.’

  ‘What does he say – something about his skill that he learned from Richard – ’

  ‘Bricklaying. Richard Plantagenet said he taught Thomas a bit about bricklaying, because he was interested. Thomas says he’ll need to be skilled to hide whatever it is – ’

  ‘The ring!’ they exclaimed together.

  ‘Yeah. Amory must have said he didn’t want the ring, so this Thomas, he hid it where they hid the document. He had to take the bricks out, like we did, and put them back again. That’s why the brickwork looked dodgy.’

  ‘So the ring, that Pierson’s got now, did belong to Richard Plantagenet, like we thought,’Rob said. He read through Thomas Mildmay’s letter again. ‘For the memory of hym who gave it hym. Someone gave the ring to Richard.’

  ‘Who?’ Chris said. ‘I mean, if he’s pretending to be an ordinary bricklayer, no-one’s going to be giving him valuable rings, are they?’

  ‘No – ’ Rob said.

  ‘What? What are you thinking?’

  ‘I need to check something.’ Rob turned to his laptop and brought up his transcript of Richard Plantagenet’s story. He scrolled through until he found what he wanted.

  ‘Look. When he met the king, he – the king – gave him a token of his intent.’

  ‘You think that was the ring?’

  ‘Yes. Like you said, where else would he get something valuable? He didn’t get it from Sir John Amory, his guardian, that’s clear. Thomas Mildmay is offering it to Sir John’s son, because Sir John loved the king. Well, he must have done, to take the risk of taking young Richard as his ward.’

  ‘But Amory obviously wasn’t like his dad. Probably just wanted to keep his head down.’

  ‘Yes. Do you remember, Richard said he thought William Amory was relieved that he – Richard – didn’t want to go with him and his family when they left Ashleigh. Not surprising, perhaps, since they’d already lost Ashleigh because the king suspected them of something.’

  ‘So Thomas Mildmay hid the ring with the document.’

  ‘Yes. They’d already hidden the document, because Sir Tomas thought it was still too dangerous for the truth to be known.’

  ‘In the fireplace, and Richard Plantagenet laid the bricks.’

  ‘Yes, he says the trade that has served me well shall serve me yett once more and by it I shall at the end conceall the truth of my beginnings.’

  ‘Then when Amory said he didn’t want the ring, Thomas Mildmay decided to hide it with the document. But he couldn’t make such a good job of the brickwork as Richard.’

  ‘But he did it, and he put the white rose there too, to mark the place.’

  They looked at each other in satisfaction at having worked it out.

  ‘But where’s the money in all this?’ Chris said.

  ‘Like I said before, I think there probably are people who’d pay a lot of money for something that belonged to Richard III, and the documents to go with it.’

  ‘The nutters,’ Chris nodded. ‘So he thinks he’s going to get the document and the ring and sell them to some rich collector in America or somewhere, and give us a cut?’

  ‘Minus the cost of the Range Rover you wrecked. Yes.’

  ‘Can’t see anyone paying the sort of money he’s talking about, but I s’pose there
are people who’ve got so much money they don’t know what to do with it. And how will it make you a tv star?’

  ‘The story would probably get some publicity. I suppose he thinks that if I was known as the historian who discovered it, I might get on one of those dumbed down popular history programmes that always ignore the evidence in favour of the sensational angle.’

  ‘But it’s all still stolen. You said yourself, you can’t tell anyone about it.’

  ‘He probably just told me whatever he thought would get me to help him. Or maybe he thinks he can square it with his great uncle. The ring and the document really belong to him. He could tell him about the document, and sell the ring on the quiet. If it came out, he could blame us, say we’d stolen it. Which we did, really.’

  ‘And he gets away with everything he’s done. Typical rich bloke, thinks he can do what he likes and rules don’t apply to him. You’re not so bad, but – ’

  ‘Me?’ said Rob, astounded. ‘I’m not rich. Never will be, either. You don’t get rich in academia, and I’ve spent too many years when I could have been earning on study. I’ll never catch up with people who’ve been earning since they left school.’

  ‘You’ve got your own house.’

  ‘About the cheapest I could find that had four walls and a roof. You said yourself it needs a lot of work. And I’ve only got it because my grandmother left me the money. I’d never get a mortgage. Unlike you, I might point out.’

  ‘My nan would never have that sort of money to leave. And I bet you grew up in a big house with a garden and a flash car.’

  ‘Not that big. And just an ordinary car. And having a house with a garden doesn’t make you rich. My family’s just ordinary. Rich is – I don’t know – being a multi-millionaire, owning your own private jet.’

  ‘Not where I come from. Rich is anyone who’s got more than you’ve got. But like I said, you’re not as bad as some. Anyway,’ he went on, while Rob was still reeling from the idea that anyone could think he was rich, ‘What do we do now? He’s going to be expecting you to get in touch to say you’ve finished the transcript.’

  ‘Stall him until we can dig up something to use against him?’ Rob suggested. He had no idea how they were going to do that, or what would happen when Pierson ran out of patience. He was beginning to think that they were, perhaps, in over their heads.

  Chapter Twenty

  At the record office the following week, Rob compared his photocopy of the Amory papers with the original. The page Pierson had shown them was the only one missing and, as far as he could tell, the only one with any relevance to their quest. He ought to report the missing page, but any investigation would reveal that Pierson was the last person to have accessed the papers. Rob was sure that Pierson would not hesitate to implicate him in any enquiry about the missing page. In the end, he simply replaced the bundle. It troubled his conscience, but he did not see what else he could do.

  He turned back to his own research; finding and photocopying the wills of husbandmen and yeomen of the county. He would analyse them at home, extracting details of their freeholds and leaseholds, their bequests of crops and livestock. On another day, he went up to the university and spent the afternoon in the library. Friday he was at the record office again, then on to his class in the evening. As he walked home, Rob was thinking about the topics he had covered so far and about his plans for the second half of the term. He had not thought of Ashleigh or Richard Plantagenet all day.

  He was walking across the small walled park when Pierson stepped out of the darkness and stood before him, blocking his way. The lighting was poor. There was no-one else in sight and no-one would hear if he called out. Rob was chilled at his vulnerability and at the realisation that Pierson knew his routine well enough to intercept him at just this spot. He saw the red glow as Pierson drew on his cigarette. Then Pierson spoke, his voice as cool and casual as before.

  ‘I think I’ve allowed you quite enough time to produce your transcript. I’m beginning to be impatient.’

  ‘Look, I can’t drop everything else to do this. People would notice if I neglected my other work.’

  ‘I’m afraid it sounds to me as if you're stalling. Unless you've found you can’t do it after all? My dear Rob, if it’s too difficult for you, please say so.’

  The insult to his capabilities stung. Pierson was trying to provoke him, Rob thought. He took a breath and replied calmly,

  ‘I can do it, but it takes time. After all if it was that easy, you’d be able to do it yourself, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I’m not prepared to wait forever.’

  ‘You can’t make any money without the original, and even if I told you where it is, you wouldn’t be able to get it.’

  ‘My dear Rob, don’t you think I could persuade you to hand over the original to me? You may fancy yourself to be a hero who can stand up to threats, but there are other people. How long do you think the old lady will stay in Spain? She’s already had one stay in hospital...’

  Pierson flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette, as if to suggest that Emily’s life had no more importance than that. Rob’s words came out low and hard, fear and anger making it difficult to keep his voice steady.

  ‘If you even threaten to hurt Emily, we will go to the police, whatever trouble we might get into. The only reason they haven’t come after you already is that no-one’s told them where to look. You’re not a professional, I bet you’ve left a trail a mile wide. Those two goons of yours aren’t going to do time for you. They’ll talk fast enough if the police start asking questions. And what else will the police find, once they start looking?’

  Pierson sounded amused.

  ‘You really don’t scare me, you know. Just remember; I want that document. And I’m watching you.’ He stepped aside, and was soon invisible in the darkness.

  Rob found both Claire and Chris at Chris’s house.

  ‘I’ve got a few days off so I’m staying at Auntie Emily’s,’ Claire explained. ‘I thought Laura and I might do something together this weekend.’

  The idea did not seem to give her any particular pleasure. Rob said nothing. He had no wish to become involved in the Leighton sisters’ difficult relationship, and he had more immediate concerns.

  ‘I’ve just seen Pierson,’ he said, when they had moved next door to his house. ‘He’s getting impatient. I don’t think we can stall him much longer.’

  ‘We need to get him off our backs,’ Chris said.

  ‘How?’

  ‘I’ve told you what I think,’ said Claire. ‘Go to the police or Lord Somerden. That’s why I came here this evening, to see if the two of you had come to your senses about this.’

  ‘I don’t think there’s much point in going to the police.’ Despite what he had said to Pierson, Rob doubted if the police would take any notice. ‘We haven’t got any real evidence against him. And if we went to Lord Somerden and he turned nasty, we could end up in trouble.’

  ‘Yeah, you can bet Pierson would manage to turn it all round so it was us in the wrong. Slimy git.’

  ‘Yes, Lord Somerden is more likely to listen to his nephew than to a couple of complete strangers.’

  ‘Wait a minute – are you saying Pierson is Lord Somerden’s nephew?’ Claire said.

  ‘Well, great nephew. Of course, you don’t know about that.’ Rob and Chris explained what they had discovered about Pierson.

  ‘So he’s always been a nasty piece of work,’ Chris concluded.

  ‘This is the man you think might have killed the boy, Wayne?’ Claire said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then for God’s sake just give him the damn document. Whatever he’s doing, it can’t be worth risking your lives for.’

  ‘I don’t think he did kill him,’ said Chris. ‘He’s not the type to bash someone’s head in. He always sends someone else to do his dirty work, or does something like poison, so he doesn’t have to see.’

  ‘Anyway, I’m not giving him the document,’ said
Rob. ‘I don’t want him to get away with it, whatever it is.’

  ‘He’s got the ring, he could still sell that,’ Chris pointed out.

  ‘I think the document’s more important. I don’t think the ring’s worth much to him without it. I wish we could get it back, though.’ Rob still resented the ease with which Pierson – having seen him, he was sure it had been him, not one of his hired thugs – had taken the document and the ring from him that night at Ashleigh.

  ‘And just how do you propose to do that? Break into his house?’ Claire said.

  Chris shook his head.

  ‘Not without knowing where he keeps it. It’s a big house, lots of places it could be hidden. And he’s got an alarm.’

  ‘It might not even be in the house,’ said Rob. ‘He might have put it in the bank.’

  ‘I wasn’t serious!’ Claire exclaimed. ‘My God, you two are going to end up in prison, or dead, and at this rate you’ll be taking me with you.’ She stood up. ‘I’m not listening to any more of this.’ She had her hand on the doorknob, about to leave the room, when Rob said,

  ‘He threatened Emily.’

  ‘What?’ Claire swung round. Rob repeated what Pierson had said.

  ‘He knows she’s in Spain? He’s been watching her?’ Claire said, half appalled, half furious. She stood still a moment longer, then came back into the room and sat down again.

  ‘All right. What do you want to do?’

  ‘Well, as Chris said, he’s always been a nasty piece of work. I think if we dug around a bit, we could find something we could use against him.’

  ‘Blackmail, you mean?’ Claire said bluntly. ‘That often ends worse for the blackmailer than the victim.’ She thought for a moment. ‘All right. There are resources I can use to see if Pierson is known to have been involved in anything, or suspected of anything. I’ve got my laptop at Auntie Emily’s, I can log on from there.’

  ‘Emily hasn’t got an internet connection,’ Rob pointed out.

  ‘I’ve got mobile broadband. Tell me everything you know about him. Full name, date of birth and so on.’