Bartholomew Fair (26 page)

‘More difficult to administer in a strange city,’ he said, with a grim laugh.

All this time we had been walking on toward Seething Lane, quickening our steps now we had something at last to report.

When Phelippes heard that we had seen the Italian woman, he sprang up excitedly.

‘The Italians will surely all be in that house!’ he said.

‘Do you want to arrest them now?’ Berden asked.

Phelippes began to pace about the room, running his hand through his hair.

‘I will speak to Sir Francis, but I think not. Our purpose will be to arrest them all, not just the Italians. We want those soldiers with their gunpowder as well, otherwise they might go ahead on their own.’

‘Though how these Italians can be involved in a plot to blow up a building,’ I said, ‘I cannot imagine. It makes no sense. Subversive puppets and plays, yes, but surely not gunpowder?’

‘I am as puzzled as you about how the puppeteers fit in, Kit,’ he said, ‘but no doubt it will all become clear in the end. Nay, unless Sir Francis orders it, we will not make any arrests yet, but Nick, you must draw away your men watching the other Italian houses and double the guard on this one. Take care you are not seen, for Master di Firenze is a powerful and influential man. Indeed, I am surprised that he should be involved in this. He has a very secure place in our merchant community. Why would he risk that? He has much to lose.’

‘People will risk much for religion,’ I said. ‘If it is his religion that moves him. When we were sent to the auto-da-fé, there were those who went to the fire rather than repudiate their religion.’

Both men looked at me, suddenly shocked. I believe they had long forgotten that I had faced the Inquisition as a child. There was an awkward silence. Then Arthur spoke from the door of his room. I had not realised he had been listening.

‘Kit is right,’ he said. ‘If the plan is to blow up a building in the centre of London, fanatical papists will think it justified that innocent people should die, in the cause of striking out against what they see as a godless, heretical country. Do not forget that in the eyes of such men, we are damned anyway, for we have rejected the traditional church, denied the authority of the Pope. They hardly see us as fellow Christians at all.’

‘And are we any better?’ I said, emboldened by hearing Arthur speak out like this. ‘We believe all Catholics are in league with the Devil. There are many in positions of power, in the court, on the Privy Council, who would burn them all.’

‘There is indeed intolerance on both sides,’ Phelippes said in a soothing voice, for Arthur and I had both spoken passionately. ‘What we need to concentrate on now is catching these conspirators.’

‘I will stay with my men tonight,’ Berden said, ‘and keep a watch on that house. We can see whether any of the soldiers call there. That will settle the matter for once and all, whether the two groups are working together.’

‘I think I should come with you,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady and determined, though inwardly I was shaking. I did not want to spend the night in the streets, keeping watch on a house full of dangerous conspirators, who might have the gunpowder in their possession. However, I had worked with Berden before and felt I would be as safe with him as with anyone in the circumstances. And after all, I had my sword. I thought – with an inward laugh – how little use I would be if it came to using it.

‘That is an excellent idea,’ Berden said. ‘If anyone can identify the soldiers, it is Kit. He has seen them already, and he spotted that woman, which I would never have done.’

‘I could also identify them,’ Arthur said, coming forward into the room. ‘Kit is an excellent code-breaker, and I know he has carried out several missions for Sir Francis, but he is still very young. I can come in his stead.’

Arthur, I realised,  was trying to protect me from a possible dangerous encounter.

‘Nay,’ I said firmly. ‘You must go home to your wife, Arthur. There is no one to worry about me.’ I had not meant it to come out bitter, but I am afraid it did. ‘Besides, I have been trained in sword craft by Master Scannard at the Tower, one of England’s finest swordsmen. You cannot use a sword, I think.’

‘Kit is right,’ Berden said. ‘You must go home to your wife, though I hope that there will be no need for skill with the sword! We will be watchful and discreet.’

‘It is decided, then,’ Phelippes said. ‘The two of you will keep watch with Nick’s men, mainly to see who comes and goes, particularly if there is any sign of the soldiers. Or Poley or Borecroft, come to that,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘If one of the soldiers does appear, Nick, see that he is followed, but do not draw attention to yourselves. We want to know where they are hiding out.’

Berden nodded. ‘I have a good man for such work. I’ll have him primed and ready to follow any soldier Kit identifies.’

‘Let us hope, having discovered where the Italians are, we can also locate the soldiers,’ Phelippes said. ‘Then we can arrest both groups at the same time, so they have no chance to warn each other.’

‘If the plan is to break into Drake’s home or his warehouse,’ I said hesitantly.

‘Aye, Kit?’

‘Why have they not done so already? They have had the gunpowder for some time. The meeting with the puppeteers was several days ago. The Italians are now in the city. So are Poley and Borecroft, if they are indeed involved. For all we know, the soldiers are here too. Why have they not acted? What are they waiting for?’

‘This has been worrying me too, Kit,’ Phelippes said. ‘As far as the warehouse is concerned, it is unlikely that any new goods will be stored there in the next few months. Drake’s credit is somewhat low after the failure of the latest expedition. He will find it difficult to obtain backers for another voyage against the Spanish treasure ships until men forget this latest disaster. They will forget, of course.’ He gave a thin-lipped smile. ‘Where there is possible profit, men can have remarkably short memories. That is why so many fall prey to fraudsters.’

‘So they might as well have attacked the warehouse already?’ I said.

He nodded. ‘However, I have come by one piece of information which may have some significance. A large party of Drake’s family is due to arrive in London from Devon any time soon. You may not know this, but Drake has a great many brothers and sisters, and although he has no children of his own, there are also a great many nephews and nieces. The source of my information did not know the reason for the visit, but it is not hard to conjecture. No doubt some of these family members are hoping that he will use his influence to find them places at court or in the London guilds.’

‘They have not chosen the best time,’ Berden said with a grin. ‘As you say, he is somewhat out of favour at the moment.’

‘Perhaps they do not realise that, dazzled by the fact that a kinsman of lowly status like themselves has risen to such eminence – a knighthood and a fortune to cause envy in even the greatest of aristocrats.’

We agreed, then, that the arrival of this party from Devon might have something to do with the seeming delay on the part of the conspirators, but everything appeared so tenuous, based on a few sightings, a few scraps of information. However, it was true that much of the work of the service began with nothing more than this. The sight of the woman going into the Italian merchant’s house had given me some hope that our ideas were not all woven from mist.

By the time it was full dark, Berden and I were stationed in the deep porch of a house across the road from the Italian merchant’s home. He had placed men at strategic point around the house, including two outside the garden wall at the back of the property. Also with the two of us was a skinny nondescript man who was introduced to me as Tom Lewen. This was the fellow Berden believed could follow anyone without being observed. If I should see one of the soldiers I recognised coming out of the house, Lewen would follow him and discover where he was lodged. It was not our task to accost him or arrest him, merely to discover where the soldiers could be found.

There was no reason why we should be lucky twice in one day. We might stand here all night and see nothing, for there might not be any need for the two groups to communicate. Before we had left Seething Lane, however, Phelippes had received word from his informer that the party from Devon would reach London the day after next. If the conspirators were waiting for them to arrive, they might also have heard the same news and need to confer together. It was a good enough reason for us to keep watch. Perhaps the plan was not simply to break in and steal valuables. Perhaps they wanted to kill as many of Drake’s family as possible. I had no love for Drake myself, but such wanton killing horrified me.

We heard the bells from the church of St Edmund the Martyr strike midnight and I was becoming very tired of this uneventful waiting. At first I had stood beside the other two, but an hour or so earlier I had sat down cross legged on the wooden boards of the porch. In fact my head was nodding forward on to my chest when Berden poked me sharply in the ribs. I looked where he was pointing. The house, which had been in darkness, now showed the flickering of candles from two downstairs windows, and like all the wealthy houses in this part of London, a large lantern was hung beside the door. By the light of the lantern, I saw a man mount the steps. Before he could raise his hand to knock, the door was opened. The newcomer had his back to me, so I could not see his face, but the man who opened the door was clear enough in the light from the lantern. It was the swarthy fellow I had seen at the puppet show. He drew the other man quickly inside and closed the door.

‘I could not see the new man,’ I whispered to Berden, ‘but the other is one of the Italians from the Fair.’

He nodded. ‘We’ll watch till he comes out. You ready, Tom?’

‘Aye.’

It was the only word I had heard him speak.

I do not know how long we waited, for the time seemed to crawl by, slow as a slug, but at last the door opened again, and I could see the face of the man leaving. I was standing now and gripped Berden’s arm.

‘Aye,’ I breathed. ‘It is one of the soldiers that Arthur and I saw.’

He nodded to Lewen, who slipped out of the porch and slid away into the shadows.

The soldier looked about him carefully, then flung the hood of his cloak over his head. He ran swiftly down the steps and strode along Gracechurch Street. A portion of the shadow followed after him. I do not know whether Berden was holding his breath, but I know that I was. At last we would know where the soldiers and the gunpowder were hidden away.

Then there was a burst of shouting from the direction in which both men had disappeared, from the sound of it surely more than two men. A scream rang out, echoing from the walls of the surrounding houses. Berden and I burst from the porch and ran in the direction of the noise. Berden had drawn his sword already. I struggled to free mine from the scabbard as I ran.

The street ahead was empty.

A groan sounded from an alley to our right. In the dark, we fell over Lewen. I reached out and felt for him and my hand came away sticky.

More of Berden’s men were running up now. One began striking at his flint until he was able to light a stump of candle. In its light we could see Lewen sprawled in the filth of the alley, blood pouring from his side.

‘Hold that closer,’ I snapped. ‘I’m a physician.’

I knelt down beside the injured man.

‘We need to staunch the bleeding,’ I said, cursing myself for having left my satchel behind in Phelippes office.

I looked up at the other men standing around. Berden had disappeared.

‘Help me tear a strip off his shirt to use as a bandage.’ I said.

Two of the men knelt on the other side of Lewen and between us we managed to rip off a portion of his shirt tail. I wrapped it tightly round his body and knotted it off.

‘Carry him back to Seething Lane,’ I said. ‘As quickly as you can. I’ll follow. Jesu, where is Berden?’

‘Here.’ He loomed up out of the dark. ‘There must have been more of that soldier’s fellows waiting for him here in the alley. When they saw Lewen, they went for him. Has he said anything?’

I shook my head. ‘He’s unconscious. He’s already lost a lot of blood. I will need to see to him at once. We need to go back.’

We turned to follow the others.

‘Damnation!’ Berden said.

Chapter Fourteen

W
hen Berden and I reached Sir Francis’s house, the men had already carried Lewen up to Phelippes’s office, where he was now lying on a flock mattress in front of the fire, probably the same mattress I had slept on the other night. Someone had stirred up the fire, which I was glad of, for I feared that Lewen might be chilled from shock and loss of blood.

The room was crowded with men, all staring down helplessly at Lewen, even Sir Francis, who must have been roused from his bed by the disturbance, and was sitting in one of the chairs, clad in his dark blue house gown and looking almost as pale as Lewen.

I fetched my satchel from where it hung on the back of my chair and knelt down beside the injured man. While we had been quartering the city earlier in the day, I had taken the opportunity to replace some of the simple medicines I normally carried with me, together with needles and thread and fresh bandages. It seemed I would need them sooner than I had expected.

The temporary bandage was already saturated with blood and more was seeping through it, staining the mattress. I asked two of Berden’s men to raise Lewen’s shoulders so that I could cut it away and peel back what was left of his shirt to reveal the wound. It was a deep thrust, probably from a dagger or worse, for it was wide enough to have been a sword.

‘How bad is it?’ Berden had knelt down beside me.

‘Nasty. I will need water,’ I said, without looking up. I heard Phelippes call for a servant. A bowl of water came quickly. The whole household must have been roused.

I tore off a clean end of the discarded bandage and used it to wipe away the blood and dirt from the wound. It had been filthy in the alley where he had lain. I hoped no noxious substance had already entered the wound. The blood was flowing a little less freely now. I probed gently around it, and nodded.

‘He’s had the luck of the Devil,’ I said. ‘The blade hit a rib. Otherwise it would have penetrated his lung. I will need to stitch this.’

One of the men holding Lewen’s shoulders gulped and turned somewhat green. I took pity on him.

‘You need not watch,’ I said. ‘Lay him down and turn him on his right side, so I can reach this better. Then I won’t need your help any more.’

They did as I asked, then drew back. I glanced along my shoulder at Berden.

‘I won’t need your men any longer, unless you do.’

He shook his head. ‘We were all too far away to see what happened. Back you go, lads. Keep a watch on that house and report any activity, but for Jesu’s sake, keep out of sight!’

I heard the men leaving, but I was occupied in cutting lengths of thread and threading a suturing needle.

‘Can I help?’ Berden said.

‘Just hold him steady for me. If he wakes, you will need to hold him down, for this will hurt.’

I began to put in the stitches as swiftly as possible. I had been nearly asleep before the soldier arrived at the Italian’s house, but now I was as wide awake as if it were midday. Luckily the wound was fairly narrow, despite being deep, for Lewen began to stir as I put in the last stitch. I cut the thread, then salved the wound generously.

‘I will need to bandage this now,’ I said. ‘Can you lift his upper body, so I can reach round his chest?’

By the time I was stitching the end of the bandage in place to hold it firm, Lewen’s eyelids were flickering and he gave a sharp moan.

‘I have some poppy syrup here to ease the pain,’ I said. ‘I need some wine to mix it in.’

A hand passed me a cup of strong red wine. It was Phelippes. Berden propped the man up against his shoulder and I held the cup to his lips. He drank thirstily, then we laid him back on the mattress. His eyes were open now.

‘Can you tell us what happened, Tom?’ Berden asked.

‘I’m sorry, Master Berden,’ the man whispered. ‘I’ve never been caught like that before.’

‘Not your fault, Tom. We should have reckoned there might be more of them hanging about, even if only one went to the house.’

‘I’ve lost you the chance to find where they’re lodging.’

The poor fellow seemed more concerned about that than about his injury.

‘Don’t worry about that, we’ll find them. How many were waiting in the alley?’

‘I couldn’t rightly see. It was dark as the Devil’s pit, sir. But I think there was five or six.’

I sat back on my heels. ‘Then you were lucky to get away alive,’ I said. ‘No blame to you.’

‘Is that the doctor?’ His eyes were shut and his voice was growing weaker.

‘Aye, and you’re a lucky fellow,’ I said. ‘You’ll be sore and weak for a while, but you’ll heal. They just missed your lung.’

I hoped I spoke the truth. I had not liked the filth in that alley.

‘Thanks, doctor,’ he whispered.

‘Get some rest now,’ I said. ‘I have given you something to ease the pain.’

He was already drifting into sleep. Berden and I got to our feet and I threw the soiled bandage on to the fire, where it flared suddenly, then crumbled.

‘Probably poor Lewen’s only shirt,’ Berden said ruefully.

‘We’ll get him a new one.’ It was Sir Francis who spoke. ‘I do not often see what you and your men must endure, Nick. It is a salutary lesson for me. Thomas and I sit here in our safe offices and send you out against these dangerous men. I am ashamed that this fellow has been so badly injured in my service.’

I looked up from repacking my satchel. ‘The best thing you can do for him is to keep him here till he is recovered. He should not be moved tonight. What I have given him will help him sleep. Let him rest there near the fire, with a couple of blankets over him. Tomorrow perhaps he can be moved to a bed in the servants’ quarters. What he needs is rest and feeding up.’ I had been shocked at the man’s emaciated body when we had lifted his shirt to reveal the wound. ‘Of course, he should have a new shirt as well. Better, he should have two, to change about, so he does not wear soiled linen near that wound while it heals.’

Walsingham looked at me with amusement. ‘He shall have everything you order, doctor.’

I coloured, realising I had spoken to him as authoritatively as I would speak to the family of one of my pauper patients at St Bartholomew’s, but before I could apologise, Sir Francis got to his feet, raising himself by pushing on the arms of the chair.

‘We are very fortune to have you with us, Kit,’ he said softly. ‘I think you saved that man’s life tonight.’

When he was gone, Phelippes, Berden and I looked at each other. Berden sighed.

‘I am sorry. We bungled that. I am afraid we have lost the chance of finding the soldiers’ hiding place. They have been warned off now.’

‘Do you think that they understood that Lewen was following them?’ I asked. ‘There was no reason they should think he was – well – official. He does not look it. They may have thought he was just a street pad or cutpurse.’

‘That is one reason why he is generally so useful,’ Berden said gloomily. ‘Not this time, though.’

‘I think Kit may be right,’ Phelippes said. ‘There would be no reason to connect your man with this office. Still, we must keep up the watch on that house, in case we have another opportunity. Now you’d both best be off. It will be morning soon.’

I shook my head. ‘You go, Berden, you’ve hardly slept these last few days. If you don’t mind, sir, I’ll stay with my patient. I want to be here when he wakes.’

So I spent another night at the office, though this time I slept in a chair.

When I woke to the first light coming through the window behind Phelippes’s desk, I found I was alone in the room with the injured man. I walked over and looked down at him. He was still lying on his right side and the bandage was only slightly stained with blood, but not seriously. I took it as a sign that the worst of the bleeding had stopped. He appeared to be sleeping normally, but I laid my hand carefully on his brow, not to wake him. There was no sign of a fever. The risk from the filth of the alley, however, could not be reckoned over yet. Still, we had brought him to warmth and care as swiftly as possible. I hoped that, despite his undernourished body, he was resilient, as the street lads of London often are. He could not be more than twenty, scarcely older than I was. I suspected he was one of those who had grown up in the gutters of the City, and who had survived by stealing and begging. Those who did reach adulthood made small men like Lewen, but tough, for all that. Falling in with Berden and proving of use to him must have given him some hope in life.

The door opened and Phelippes came in, followed by one of the men servants carrying a tray.

‘How is the poor fellow this morning?’ Phelippes asked.

‘He has had a good night and the wound has stopped bleeding. As I said last night – or was it this morning? – what he needs now is rest and good food.’

‘From what Berden has told me about this fellow before, this is probably the first time he has slept on a mattress. He lives in the streets.’

‘I thought he had that look about him,’ I said. ‘Is that breakfast? I am starving!’

‘Aye. I had them bring enough for three, but had we better let him sleep?’

‘For the moment.’

I cleared a space on my table for the servant to lay out the food – hot porridge, fresh bread, butter, cheeses, sliced ham and hot spiced ale.

When he was gone, I grinned at Phelippes. ‘The Walsingham family is fond of porridge, I believe.’

He wrinkled his nose. ‘It is not my favourite food. Fare for invalids and children. Is there any honey?’

‘Aye.’ I pushed the pot towards him. ‘You may smother it with this.’

We both pulled up chairs and tucked in. Despite his complaints, Phelippes ate his porridge. For myself, I had come to quite like the stuff since coming to England. When I was a half starved waif, Sara had fed me up on it. I was glad of the spiced ale too. There was a nip in the air this morning and the fire had died down, though the servant had thrown on a couple of logs before leaving us.

‘What do you want me to do today?’ I asked, after I had eaten several slices of ham and some of the bread (which was very good). ‘Shall I go back with Nick to watch the Italian merchant’s house?’

‘Nay, there are enough there already, now that Nick has called in his other men. Besides, I don’t want you there in daylight, in case you are recognised.’

‘I understand.’

‘I went to speak to Sir Francis before I sent for breakfast. He has suggested that this morning would be a good time for you to go to St Thomas’s to report to the deputy superintendent, as you were requested to do.’

He looked at me critically.

‘You had better go home and change first. You’ll hardly be a credit to Sir Francis, looking like that.’

I had not thought about my clothes, but now, looking down at myself, I realised that I had knelt in the dirt of the alleyway and my hose were smeared with unnameable filth. There were bloodstains on the sleeves of my shirt and on the bottom edge of my doublet. Blood stains are the very devil to wash out, unless you deal with them quickly, as I knew all too well from long experience. Joan was always moaning at my father and me about them. I hoped there was a servant in the Lopez household who could deal with these. In the past Ruy’s clothes must sometimes have been stained, though these days his doctoring consisted more of administering soothing potions and listening to his rich patients’ worries, rather than the messy business of physicking wounds and injuries. It was probably years since anyone had vomited over him.

‘Aye,’ I said with a grin, ‘I would not wish to give my new employers the wrong impression. Clean and smart, that’s the look I must aim for.’

‘To save time, Sir Francis says you should ride home and then over to Southwark. You may take that horse. Horace.’

‘Hector,’ I said automatically, rising to the bait as usual. ‘I will just wait until Lewen wakes, then I’ll go my ways.’

‘You should be back here by the afternoon. We may know better what is happening by then.’

‘If there is any sign of the soldiers around the merchant’s house, it will mean they think that their encounter with Lewen was just some street attack.’

‘Aye.’ He rubbed his chin. Like Berden, he had developed a growth of stubble. ‘I wonder whether they will go back to see if there is a body in the alley.’

‘They might. They may be worrying about it.’

‘It is curious,’ he said, ‘how often a criminal cannot keep away from the scene of some misdeed or crime.’

‘Aye,’ I said, ‘and if they do come back, they could be followed again.’

‘Much more difficult in the daylight.’

At that moment Lewen yawned, groaned, started to turn over, and yelped with pain. I went to see to him.

An hour later I was once again riding Hector over the Bridge to Southwark, feeling a good deal more nervous than when I was on my way to Barn Elms. I was freshly dressed from head to heel, and Sara had even found an old physician’s gown and cap of Ruy’s for me to wear. I swallowed my pride and wore them. Ruy might consider them old, but they seemed perfectly sound to me, being made of sturdy wool cloth of a very fine weave. Even when he had occupied a humble position at St Bartholomew’s, as did my father later, he had dressed well. Now, of course, his physician’s gown was of best black velvet, for he could hardly attend on such clients as the Queen, Dom Antonio and the Earl of Essex in anything of poorer quality. When in court, one must dress appropriately. Or so he told us.