Harold, Baron Throckmorton, clamped his grip on the woman, each fingertip rigid, and hissed, ‘How convenient, strumpet, to find you here. And all alone, too. No doubt you’ve been told to watch the results of my business. Feayton has put you up to this, hasn’t he? So, you’ve every reason to be frightened and now I intend showing you exactly what fear is all about.’
Suddenly the baron became aware of something uncomfortably unexpected. The sharp point of a knife had entered through fur, velvet and linen, and was pricking deep into the delicate curve of his armpit. He spluttered a little and twisted back towards the danger, his hand firm on the hooded woman.
A voice just a little behind him said, ‘Let her go, you silly bugger. There ain’t no chance for abductions now. See, the lady ain’t alone at all.’
‘Lady?’ squawked the baron. ‘You’re mistaken, sir. This is a trollop from the gutters and deserves no knight’s protection.’
‘And I ain’t no knight,’ cackled the invisible assailant. ‘But my knife’s as good as anyone’s and sharper than most. It’ll go deep, an’ you tempt me to shove it right in, mister. Right under your dirty little arm and into your gizzards.’
The baron unhanded his captive. She took a quick step backwards it appeared she was laughing. ‘How very predictable you are, my lord,’ Tyballis said, pushing back her hood a little. ‘A female in distress evidently ignites very different emotions in you than most, and hardly chivalrous ones, it seems.’
Throckmorton ignored her and turned quickly, grappling with the assailant. But instead of disarming the man, he found himself bent over, one knee hard to the puddles and his arms wrenched high up behind his back. Now the knife pressed hard into his ear and a small one-eyed man was peering at him, grinning toothlessly. The man spat as he spoke, and the baron breathed in his attacker’s saliva. ‘I’d give in quick, were I you, me lord. Afore I break your scrawny little arms.’
Throckmorton spoke between gritted teeth, his nose almost to the cobbles. ‘I’m not alone, you fool. Someone will come immediately. You will both be killed.’
Then there was another voice over his head, a soft and familiar voice of quiet menace. ‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ said the voice. ‘You gloat too soon. No one is coming to your aid. Perryvall is at this moment otherwise occupied swimming the Thames. A strange pastime, don’t you think, at this time of year? I fear he will be quite chilled when he gets to the far bank.’
‘Swimming?’ spluttered Throckmorton.
‘I must admit,’ said the quiet voice, ‘that I helped him a little, making his descent from ship to river somewhat easier, indeed rather peremptory. I did not approve of his business, you see, nor of the small packet he carried. I therefore removed the offending packet and threw it into the water. I’m afraid it will be quite ruined. It then seemed remarkably apt for Mister Perryvall to follow his parcel.’
Throckmorton looked furiously up into Andrew Cobham’s black eyes. ‘You’ve no right, my lord. You’ve always approved my business before – and profited from it.’
‘I have decided,’ Andrew said, ‘to alter my habits. I decided – purely on a whim, – that there was sufficient arsenic already in the world and therefore any further supply would work contrary to my designs. Your scattered powder now floats on the surface of our beloved Thames amongst the city’s turds and piss. I can only hope it does not seriously disadvantage the fish.’
Tyballis screwed up her nose. ‘But half of London gets their water supply –’
‘A little arsenic may well prove less fatal than the filth already swelling the banks. A grain or two is said to be an excellent remedy for all sorts of ailments, I believe.’ Mister Cobham briefly shook his head, turned back to Casper Wallop and smiled. ‘Put away your knife, my friend. Bring the wretch and follow me.’
Casper gazed with distaste at the point of his knife. ‘All waxy it is now,’ he complained. ‘That nasty little bugger’s ear’ ole must be clogged up with enuff tallow to make half a dozen candles.’
Andrew, his hand firm on Tyballis’s back, was striding off to the back door of the tavern. The baron whimpered slightly as Casper kicked him to follow. Together the four entered the dark and quiet entrance and immediately climbed the lightless and rickety back staircase to a small room. Mister Wallop pushed the baron inside. Andrew locked the door behind them all and promptly seated himself on a low uncushioned settle, Tyballis beside him. Casper kept the baron standing. Andrew said, ‘Now we have a little privacy, my dear Harold. I have a proposition to put to you.’
The baron shivered. ‘What about Perryvall, my lord? I doubt he can swim.’
‘Especially in that heavy sheepskin cape,’ said Andrew with vague sympathy. ‘A shame. But someone may find a ship’s sail-hook to fish him from the sludge.’
‘This is murder, Feayton.’
‘Is it?’ Andrew smiled gently. ‘A word I imagine you well understand, Harold. So, it is fortunate, then, that no one saw me assist the poor man to his demise. But he may not die. I cannot claim to care either way. I warned Perryvall some months ago that he should not ever again become involved in the importation of dangerous substances. Occasionally it seems I need to remind my acquaintances and colleagues, lest they forget the wisdom of attending to my warnings. And that, my dear Harold, includes you.’
‘I repeat, sir,’ stuttered the baron, ‘you already know my business, and in the past you encouraged it.’
‘Let us not exaggerate,’ sighed Mister Cobham. ‘I have never encouraged any of your unsavoury dealings, Harold. I permitted your business to continue, it is true. But I now refer to something quite different. I refer to the matter of kidnapping and abduction. Was I wrong, perhaps, in thinking you were about to force Mistress Blessop into a compromising situation? No – I think not. You were planning an instant and unpleasant revenge. Had you not done so, you would instead have noticed my actions on board the carvel. You might even have drawn someone else’s attention to what I was doing, which would have been unfortunate for me. Instead, I remained quite unnoticed and free to help Mister Perryvall to his soggy fate, while you were occupied with some very ungallant intentions elsewhere. Now you find yourself in an increasingly difficult situation, my friend.’
‘I can only apologise,’ gulped the baron. ‘Let me go now, Feayton. I was tempted, I admit it. I was wrong. It will never happen again. Without taking delivery of the packet I expected, I must contact the buyer, and as soon as possible. Let me go, sir, and I will not bother you again. Indeed, I’ll pay your share as soon as I’m able. I know I already stand in your debt, sir, and if you let me go now I shall be even more in your debt. A debt I swear I will pay. Otherwise, loath as I am to issue my own warnings – if you attempt to hold or kill me, I shall yell louder than you could possibly imagine. This whole tavern will come running.’
Andrew smiled. ‘You underestimate me, my lord,’ he said softly. ‘As usual. The landlord, already well paid, would oblige me by hearing nothing. But there will be nothing to hear. I am not going to kill you, Harold. Someone else will do that soon enough.’
‘Some beggar or cut-purse, hired by you?’
‘Unnecessary,’ Andrew shook his head. ‘You will be dispatched by Lord Marrott’s paid assassin or Rivers’ agent as soon as you fail to deliver the arsenic this evening.’
The baron groaned. ‘What do you want of me, sir?’
‘Exactly what I asked once before,’ Andrew said, ‘and which I now insist upon receiving immediately. Your signed confession, Harold. Implicating both Marrott and Rivers and anyone else you know to be involved, explaining the amounts of arsenic you have been ordered to supply and when. You will include the names of every messenger you have met, how you have delivered the required packages, and whatever you know of the motive behind these orders.’ He looked very closely into the baron’s reddened eyes. ‘Do you know, Harold, what was to be done with the poison you supplied?’