‘I didn’t even know the man before yesterday,’ protested Quare. ‘I met him for the first time last night at the Pig and Rooster – Mansfield brought him. Yet you don’t suggest Mansfield was a spy!’
‘We are looking into Mansfield, never fear, as we are everyone who had aught to do with Aylesford. But Mansfield is dead. You, sir, are alive.’
‘You say that as if it were a piece of evidence against me.’
‘As well it might be. But surely you can prove your innocence, Mr Quare … if, that is, you are innocent as you claim.’
‘I’m no spy,’ he repeated. ‘I’m a loyal Englishman. As was Master Magnus.’
‘Are you so sure of that? Sure enough to bet your life on it? I do not think you are sufficiently aware of your position, sir. Five young noblemen were slain last night. Witnesses have placed you at the scene, in the very thick of the brawl. Already, powerful voices are clamouring for your death. It is only with difficulty that I have been able to protect you. But that protection cannot last for ever. Either you will tell me the truth now, or we shall see how you fare in the hands of the watch. You will find their methods crude, but quite persuasive.’
Now anger crept into Quare’s voice. He was no less afraid, but he did not like being threatened. ‘I’ve told you the truth, Sir Thaddeus. I do not know the secret of that watch. And if Master Magnus knew it, he did not reveal it to me. Nor do I know why he kept the watch from you, unless it was part of some scheme he had to take your place at the head of the Worshipful Company.’
‘I can well believe that he sought my place. He was a brilliant man but also a vain and bitter one, always seeking to rise above his station and supplant his betters. But that is merely a slice of truth, not the whole pie. You can do better.’
‘You don’t want the truth,’ Quare said as understanding dawned. ‘You wish me to accuse Master Magnus. To testify against him. That is the price of my life, is it not?’
The Old Wolf sighed. ‘You are not going to climb on your high horse again, are you, Mr Quare? How tedious. More is at stake here than you realize. The war is not going well. Even now, the French prepare an invasion fleet – a fleet that will make the Spanish Armada look like an afternoon boating party on the Thames. There are rumours that Bonnie Prince Charlie will soon land once more in Scotland, if he is not there already, to rally an army of rebels to his cause – a distraction His Majesty can ill afford at present. In the midst of all this, a watch comes into our possession – a weapon, rather – which, properly understood, promises to be of more value than a thousand cannon. Yet instead of turning this marvellous weapon over to myself or Mr Pitt, Master Magnus keeps it for himself. And, with the aid of an accomplice – that would be you, sir – concocts a story to cover his tracks. I ask you, are those the actions of a loyal Englishman?’
‘He wasn’t keeping it for himself,’ Quare insisted.
‘For whom, then? Aylesford? Or was he in league with Grimalkin after all?’
‘You misconstrue my words, Sir Thaddeus. He merely wished to study it. To understand it before passing it on to Mr Pitt. What you call the Massacre of the Cats was an accident. The last I saw him, Master Magnus had no understanding of how it had happened. You see this watch as the answer to all our problems, a way to reverse the tide of the war. You think that it can be used to massacre men instead of cats. And you may be right. But consider this, Sir Thaddeus. That watch killed dozens of cats in the blink of an eye, by a means that neither Master Magnus nor myself could discern, let alone comprehend … and even less control. We did not direct its deadly effects; they could just as easily have struck us down. That watch is dangerous, sir. Too dangerous to be waved around like a loaded pistol.’
Grandmaster Wolfe’s florid features blanched, and he lowered the timepiece to the top of his desk with one hand while the other replaced his still-smoking pipe in its stand. Mrs Puddinge’s smug expression dissolved into a look of nervous apprehension, and she stepped away from the Old Wolf as if he had just laid down a hissing grenado.
‘Are you saying that we could be struck down at any moment?’ the grandmaster demanded.
Quare shook his head, once again remembering Grimalkin’s warning, which seemed to be coming true with a vengeance. ‘I’m saying I do not know. And that it is foolish to tempt fate by poking about in a science – if indeed it is a science – beyond our understanding.’
‘You surprise me, Mr Quare. I thought you a man of reason. What is this watch, then, if not an instrument of science? Some kind of magic talisman, perhaps?’ He gave a scornful laugh. ‘Was Master Magnus dabbling in witchcraft?’
‘Witchcraft?’ echoed Mrs Puddinge with a little shriek. ‘God preserve us! I always knew that horrid man was up to no good. Anyone with a pair of eyes in their head could see he was in league with the devil. Master Mephistopheles, indeed! Why, I’ll wager he had hooves at the ends of those twisted legs. Yes, and a tail!’
‘We are men of science here,’ said the Old Wolf, shooting her a stern glance. ‘We deal in facts, my good woman, not superstitions or old wives’ tales.’
‘Superstitions, is it?’ she demanded. ‘Old wives’ tales? God knows I don’t have the learning of men like yourself and Mr Quare, but at least I can recognize the devil’s work when I see it! Spying is one thing, Sir Thaddeus, but I’ll not put my immortal soul at risk by dabbling in witchcraft – no, not if His Majesty himself were to ask it of me!’
‘Then by all means take your leave, Mrs Puddinge. There is no more that you can do here in any case. I’m sure I do not need to add that everything you have heard is to be held in the strictest confidence.’
Despite her words, and the grandmaster’s dismissal, however, she appeared loath to go.
‘Well?’ asked the Old Wolf, raising his eyebrows. ‘Your usual emolument will be waiting,’ he said. ‘With something extra added for your trouble and your diligence in bringing Mr Quare to us.’
‘It’s not that, sir,’ she said, wringing her hands together, her combativeness gone as if it had never existed.
‘What then?’
‘Mr Aylesford,’ she said in a whisper. ‘He’s still out there!’
‘My good woman,’ said Grandmaster Wolfe with the barely patient air of a parent schooling a child in the obvious, ‘you may set your mind at ease on that score. Mr Aylesford is no doubt on his way back to France by now. His cover has been blown. He knows there is naught for him here but interrogation and the hangman’s noose.’
‘Oh, aye, very sensible, I’m sure. But I looked into his eyes, Sir Thaddeus! The man is not sensible. He is a fanatic. A madman! Ask Mr Quare – he’ll tell you!’
Quare, who felt it was rather rich for Mrs Puddinge to be appealing to him now, said nothing.
The Old Wolf, meanwhile, sighed heavily. ‘I am far from trusting Mr Quare’s word on anything at the moment,’ he said. ‘But I will have a journeyman escort you home, Mrs Puddinge. And remain with you overnight. That should be sufficient to put your fears to rest.’
‘Aye, and what about tomorrow, then?’
‘I cannot guarantee your safety,’ the grandmaster said. ‘No one can. Why, just walking down Bishopsgate Street can be fatal. Not to mention the fact that you have chosen of your own free will to become involved in patriotic work that carries a substantial risk. This is something I told you at the outset of your service and have repeated many times since. But it would appear that my warnings have fallen on deaf ears.’
‘I never saw no harm in keeping an eye on my young men like you asked of me, Sir Thaddeus. It were only good business, after all. But this is different. Mr Aylesford is different. He killed three of my young men! Who will want to lodge with me now?’