‘Master Puddlicott,’ he hissed. ‘I insist you stay!’
‘Puddlicott!’ de Craon snapped.
‘Yes, monsieur, an English criminal wanted by the sheriff of this city and other counties for a list of crimes as long as this river!’
De Nevers tried to break away. Corbett clicked his fingers and indicated to two men-at-arms to hold him fast. Meanwhile, Cade had selected his volunteers. Three archers stripped off their helmets, sallets and sword belts, kicked off their boots and slipped like water rats into the scum-covered river. They dived out of sight and resurfaced, shouting triumphantly.
‘Sacks!’ one of them yelled, spitting out water and shaking his head. ‘There are heavy sacks of coins tied to the anchor chain!’
‘Bring a barge round,’ Corbett ordered. ‘Have the swimmers retrieve the sacks, place a strong guard and order carts to take the sacks to Sheen Palace!’
Cade hurried away, shouting orders. Corbett looked at his opponents.
‘Monsieur de Craon, I will leave you now. I will take Master Puddlicott; for it is Richard Puddlicott, not Raoul de Nevers, isn’t it? He’s an English subject owing allegiance to our King and will undoubtedly answer for his terrible crimes.’
De Nevers yelled at de Craon but the Frenchman just shook his head and the white-faced prisoner was hustled away.
‘We knew nothing of this,’ de Craon protested. ‘We accepted de Nevers for what he claimed to be.’
Corbett grinned at the blatant lie and pointed to the anchor chain. ‘And I suppose,’ he replied, ‘as you raised anchor and set sail you would have found sacks tied by strong cords to the chain. Of course, you would claim it was treasure trove and take it home to your royal master as a fresh subsidy for his armies in Flanders. Naturally, when the time was ripe, you would whisper about what you had done and turn Edward of England into a laughing stock, a prince who lost his gold so his enemy could use it to attack his allies.’ Corbett shook his head. ‘Come, come, monsieur. Our Chancery will lodge objections with yours. You will protest your innocence but you are still a liar and a bungling fool!’
Corbett, followed by Ranulf, walked to the rail.
‘Did you send them?’ Corbett shouted back over his shoulder. He turned and stared into the hate-filled eyes of the Frenchman.
‘Did I send whom?’ De Craon snapped back.
‘The assassins who attacked us?’
De Craon smiled and shook his head. ‘One day, Corbett, I will!’
Corbett and Ranulf strode down the ramp where their prisoner waited, now securely chained between two guards. Behind him the clerk heard the whistles of the officers ordering their men off the French ship and the hurried cries of the French captain, eager to get the Grace a Dieu to sea as swiftly as possible.
‘Where shall we take the prisoner, Sir Hugh?’
Corbett looked at the officer, then at Puddlicott.
‘Newgate will do, but he is to remain chained between two guards.’ Corbett stepped closer and stared into the bland face of this master trickster. ‘Puddlicott, the actor,’ he whispered and touched the man’s blond hair. ‘How often was this dyed, eh? Black, red, russet? And the beard? Grown and shaved, then grown again to suit your purposes?’
Puddlicott stared back coolly. ‘What proof do you have, Master Corbett?’
‘All I need. You know Adam of Warfield has been taken? He puts the blame squarely on you. Oh, I know about the disguises; the beard, the different coloured hair, the cowl and the hood, but they won’t save you from the hangman’s noose. I take no enjoyment in this, Puddlicott, but you are going to hang.’
The arrogant coolness slipped from Puddlicott’s face.
‘If you make a confession,’ Corbett continued. ‘And answer certain questions, then perhaps something can be done.’
‘Such as what?’ Puddlicott sneered.
‘You committed treason. You know the new laws. To be half-hanged, cut down, disembowelled and quartered.’
Corbett flinched at the fear in the prisoner’s eyes.
‘Well, Master Clerk,’ he slurred. ‘Perhaps we should talk.’
Corbett stared along the quayside. There was nothing he could do for this man except make his captivity a little easier.
‘Bring the prisoner!’ he ordered.
The soldiers, with Puddlicott in between them, followed Corbett and Ranulf into a small ale house. Corbett demanded that the room be cleared.
‘Release him!’ he ordered the soldiers. ‘Let him keep his chains. You can guard the door outside.’
The soldiers, disappointed — their hopes of a free meal being dashed — released Puddlicott but rearranged the gyves of his chains so he could shuffle and still use his hands. Corbett pushed the prisoner over to a corner table.
‘Make yourself comfortable on that stool. Landlord, your best dish. What is it?’
‘Fish pie.’
‘Is it fresh?’
‘Yesterday the fish were swimming in the sea.’
Corbett smiled. ‘The largest portion for my guest here and some white wine.’
Puddlicott, a half-smile on his face, watched the landlord bustle off to serve them as if he was some important guest of state rather than a doomed malefactor. They waited in silence until the landlord returned. Puddlicott ate the food eagerly enough and Corbett had to admire the man’s cool nerve. When he had finished, Puddlicott drained his wine cup and held it out for more.
‘Make hay whilst the sun shines.’ Puddlicott grinned, then he became serious. ‘I do have a favour to ask, clerk.’
‘I owe you nothing.’
‘I have a brother,’ Puddlicott persisted. ‘He’s been witless since birth. The Brothers at St Anthony’s hospital look after him. Give me your word he will be well looked after. A royal stipend, and I’ll tell you what I know.’ He half-raised his cup. ‘If I am to die I want it to be quick. Richard Puddlicott was not put on God’s earth for the amusement of the London mob!’
‘You have my word on both matters. Now, you stole the gold and silver?’
‘Of course. Adam of Warfield and William of the palace were involved. William is just a toper but Adam of Warfield is a malicious bastard. I hope he hangs beside me!’
‘He will.’
‘Good, that will make it all the more enjoyable.’ Puddlicott sipped from his cup.
‘Eighteen months ago,’ he began, ‘I was in France after a short stay at Westminster where I helped William of Senche remove some of the abbey treasure from the monk’s refectory. Now, I am not a thief,’ he continued with a grin, ‘I just find it difficult to distinguish between my property and everyone else’s. I tried the same ruse in Paris at the house of the Friars Minor. I was arrested and sentenced to hang. I told my gaoler that I knew a way of making the French king rich at the expense of Edward of England.’ Puddlicott blew his lips out. ‘You know the way of the world, Corbett? When you’re in a corner you’ll try anything. I thought it would be forgotten but, the day before I was due to hang, de Craon and the Keeper of the King’s Secrets, William Nogaret, visited me in the condemned cell. I told them my plan and heigh-ho, I was released.’
‘You could have gone back on your word,’ Ranulf interrupted. ‘Shown them a clean pair of heels.’
‘And fled where?’ Puddlicott asked. ‘To England? As a ragged-arsed beggar? No,’ he smiled and shook his head. ‘De Craon said if I broke my word he would hunt me down. Moreover, I had my own grudge against Edward of England. Oh, by the way, Corbett, de Craon hates you and one day intends to settle scores.’
‘So far, you have told me nothing I didn’t know already,’ Corbett snapped.
‘Ah, well, I returned to England. I grew a beard, dyed my hair black and arranged the festivities at the abbey.’
‘Why?’
‘Adam of Warfield has his brains between his legs. He has a weakness for whores, heady drink and good food. William of the palace can be bought for a good jug of wine, so I had them both. I told them my plan; the cemetery was declared unuseable; I thickened the undergrowth by sowing hempen seed — it sprouts quickly and covered my activities.’