‘On what?’
‘Your performance in court, Master Millburne. I was there when that villain, Gerard Quilter, was tried. Your evidence helped to send the fiend to his death.’
‘I did what any honest man would have done,’ boasted the other.
‘You and Master Paramore, both,’ said Nicholas.
‘Yes, Cyril did his part in court. But what’s your interest, sir?’
‘I was at the execution today and saw the condemned man hanged for his crime. Though, I must admit, I was surprised to go to Smithfield for such a pleasure when the gallows stand at Tyburn. Why not there?’
Millburne chuckled. ‘Being hanged beside a witch inflicted greater shame on the fellow. It could not have been arranged better. I thought it a most satisfying affair.’
‘You were at Smithfield yourself, then?’
‘I would not have missed the spectacle for the world.’
‘Is that what you are celebrating now?’
‘What is it to you?’ asked Millburne, growing suspicious. ‘Who are you and why do you drag me away from my friends?’
Nicholas held up both hands in a calming gesture. ‘I simply wished to thank you, Master Millburne,’ he said with a bland smile. ‘You helped justice to take its course. But I am sorry to have taken you away from your celebration. I’ll let you get back to Master Paramore and the others.’
‘Cyril Paramore is not here.’
‘Not here to enjoy your day of triumph?’
‘His ship does not return from France until tomorrow,’ he said, staring intently at Nicholas. ‘Look, why all these questions? You have not even given me a name. What’s your purpose in coming here like this? Who are you, fellow?’
‘A grateful friend,’ said Nicholas, backing away.
And before he could be detained, he slipped quickly out of the front door of the tavern. Quilter was waiting impatiently for him across the road. He came forward.
‘Was he there, Nick?’
‘As large as life.’
‘Did you speak with him?’
‘Briefly,’ said Nicholas. ‘I left before I aroused his suspicion too much.’
‘What did you learn?’
‘What I expected, Frank. He was celebrating this afternoon’s event with friends.’
‘Was that lying knave, Cyril Paramore, among them?’
‘No, we will talk to him tomorrow.’
Quilter’s hopes rose. ‘You know where he lives?’
‘No,’ admitted Nicholas, ‘but I am certain where he will be. And we’ll be there to meet him. My conversation with Master Millburne was short but highly instructive. I take him to be just the sort of unprincipled rogue you suspect. We may judge his accomplice tomorrow.’
‘When?’
‘When he disembarks from his ship. He is returning from France.’
‘Is there nothing we can do meanwhile, Nick?’
‘Try to get a good night’s sleep.’
‘There’ll be no rest for me tonight,’ said Quilter. ‘My thoughts will be with my father. I doubt if I shall ever sleep soundly again until we clear his name.’
‘We have made a start, Frank.’
‘Why break off now? One of the men who sent him to the gallows is filling his belly at the Golden Fleece. He is glorying in my father’s death. I’ll not allow it. Let’s drag the villain into the street and cudgel a confession out of him.’
‘No,’ said Nicholas, restraining him with an arm. ‘Once your identity is known, my own disguise is weakened. We must move privily to gather evidence, Frank. Show our hand too soon and we forewarn both Bevis Millburne and Cyril Paramore.’
Quilter was rancorous. ‘They are the ones who deserve to be hanged.’
‘Then let’s find the rope that will do the office. But we must be cunning in our search. Master Millburne is a person of standing. He has important friends. One of them sups with him this evening.’
‘What’s the fellow’s name?’
‘Sir Eliard Slaney.’ Quilter snorted with contempt. ‘You know the man, I see.’
‘Only through my father’s eyes, Nick.’
‘And what did they see?’
‘One of the meanest rascals in the whole of London.’
Owen Elias was strolling jauntily along Cheapside when he spotted his friend coming towards him. He waved cheerily but there was no acknowledgement. Head down, eyes dreamily searching the ground, Edmund Hoode was oblivious to all around him. His face was ignited by a smile, his body animated by a deep inner joy. If the Welshman had not blocked his passage as he tried to go by, Hoode would have gone straight past. He came out of his reverie.
‘Owen!’ he exclaimed. ‘Well met, old friend.’
‘Well met, indeed!’ replied the other. ‘Thank heaven you are accosted by me and not by some lurking thief. Keep your wits about you, man. You are such a ready target when you amble along like that. A blind man with one arm could have robbed you and you’d have been none the wiser.’
‘Nobody could deprive me of my most precious gift.’
‘That does not mean you should toss your purse away so idly.’
‘Money is only money, Owen.’
‘Therein lies its attraction. It buys food, drink and the company of fair ladies.’
‘Some ladies spurn the notion of payment.’
‘Well, I have never met such a creature, Edmund,’ said the other cynically. ‘Women are all one to me. You may hire their bodies for a night or, if you marry them, you will have to pay in perpetuity. That is why I spread my charm amongst those already wed. A mistress who gives herself for love needs far less expenditure when she has a husband to buy at her command. Choose a married woman for sport, Edmund. Your purse will profit.’
‘It is far better to be chosen than to choose, Owen.’
‘On that point, we do agree. Though there is some deceit involved,’ conceded Elias. ‘When I pursue a woman, I always convince her that it was her idea and that she set the trap for me. It’s the shortest way to happiness.’
‘I have found my own route there.’
Elias laughed. ‘How many times have we heard that vain boast?’
‘Do not mock me, Owen.’
‘Then do not set yourself up for mockery. The only women you ever find were put on this earth to break your heart. Your whole life is one long, desperate, lovesick sigh. But enough of that,’ said Elias, turning to a more serious matter. ‘Have you seen Nick since this afternoon?’
‘No, why should I see him?’
‘Because he is the best friend you have. Do you know a better reason?’
Hoode simpered. ‘I have been otherwise engaged this evening.’
‘Did you spare no thought for Nick and Frank Quilter?’ he prodded the other man in the chest. ‘Shame on you, Edmund! I can see from your face that you gave neither of them a moment’s consideration.’
‘Why should I?’
‘Because they went through an ordeal today. So did our audience, of course,’ he added, ‘because we gave them poor fare on stage this afternoon. Nick and Frank were part of a different audience. They watched a public execution at Smithfield.’
‘Did they?’ asked Hoode, as if hearing about it for the first time.
‘You know they did, Edmund.’
‘I vaguely recall something to that effect.’
‘The company was buzzing with the news.’
‘My thoughts were some way distant, Owen. Why did Nick and Frank desert us in order to watch an execution? Their place was at the Queen’s Head with us.’
‘Would you have been there if your father was being hanged?’
Hoode was startled. ‘Nick’s father was the condemned man?’
‘No, you idiot!’ shouted Elias. ‘It was Gerard Quilter who went to his death today on a charge of murder. Have you not been listening to your fellows? They spent the whole rehearsal calling for Frank’s removal from the company. Barnaby thinks we will be in bad odour with our audiences if we let the son of a killer remain in Westfield’s Men. I am unsure. I have been having second thoughts on the matter.’
‘Why?’
‘Frank alleges that his father was an innocent man. Nick supports his cry.’
‘He was hanged unjustly, then?’