The King's Evil

Close to the ruins of Baynard's Castle, it was a prime site. The new regulations forbade the building of houses along the riverbank itself so the dwelling was set well back from it. Enclosed by a high stone wall, the long garden ran almost down to the Thames and the rear windows of the house afforded an uninterrupted view both of the river and of the one remaining turret of the castle. Sir Ambrose Northcott was thrilled with this prospect, combining, as it did, reality with romance, the busy world of commerce floating past on the water with the noble profile of a derelict fortress. When darkness fell, the lone turret would be silhouetted against the moonlit sky. It would make an evocative neighbour.

When work first began on the site, he visited it every day.

'What progress have you made, Mr Littlejohn?' he asked.

'Small steps forward, Sir Ambrose,' said the other. 'Small but significant steps forward.'

'When will the cellars be completed?'

'According to schedule.'

'Good. I will hold you to that, Mr Littlejohn.'

'You will not find me wanting. May I say what an honour it is to work on such a project, Sir Ambrose?'

'Then do not allow any slacking among your men.'

'There is no danger of that.'

'The house must be ready on time.'

'I have never failed a client yet.'

Samuel Littlejohn was a sturdy fellow of middle years with a rubicund face and a jovial manner. He positively exuded bonhomie. A successful builder even before the fire, he was now in greater demand than ever and Northcott had to include many financial inducements in his contract in order to secure him. Littlejohn not only had a reputation for building sound houses to the exact specifications of his clients, he invariably did so within the stipulated period of time. He was a wealthy man who dressed well but, if occasion demanded, he was not averse to taking off his coat and soiling his hands by helping his employees. He could teach the best of them how to lay bricks and his carpentry was a source of envy. Samuel Littlejohn enjoyed every aspect of his work.

'You have chosen your architect well,' he said approvingly.

'That is what I believe,' returned Northcott. 'I thought about it long and hard before I reached my decision. Because of his youth, I had grave doubts at first but they are fast vanishing.'

'Mr Redmayne understands building.'

'He came with the highest recommendation.'

'It was justified.'

'I am glad that you and he have such an affinity, Mr Littlejohn.'

'It makes all the difference, Sir Ambrose. When an

architect and builder do not work happily together, it shows in the finished structure. The opposite is also true,' he added with a chuckle. 'Bricks and mortar glow. Stonework gleams. Windows seem to glitter. When your house is built by men who are in accord, it will have a broad smile on its face.'

'So will I, if it is ready on the date agreed.'

'You have my word, Sir Ambrose.'

'That is good enough for me, Mr Littlejohn.'

The builder was diverted by the arrival of a boat-load of timber and he excused himself to supervise the unloading. Northcott surveyed the site with a deep satisfaction then walked slowly around its perimeter. He could almost see the finished house rising before his eyes. The omens were good. Everything was proceeding exactly as he wished. He strolled across to the trestle table on which Christopher Redmayne had spread out his drawings so that the builders could work from them. Like his employer, the architect was on site every day.

'Do you foresee any problems, Christopher?' asked Northcott.

'Not at the moment, Sir Ambrose,' said the other, looking up. 'We seem to have it all under control. Mr Littlejohn's men work hard.'

'I look to him to keep them at it.'

'He will most certainly do so. You could not have engaged a more experienced builder. In the short time we have been acquainted, I have learned a great deal from him. He has my admiration.'

'You have certainly earned his.'

'Then I am profoundly flattered.' He glanced towards the river. 'You have selected an excellent site here, Sir Ambrose, and the fact that you have a private jetty is a huge bonus. Materials which would otherwise have to be delivered to some busy wharf upstream can be brought to the very bottom of your garden.'

'It was a feature which attracted me to the property.'

'An appealing situation for a merchant.'

'Trade is only a small part of my life,' said Northcott with a frown. 'I could never be described as a mere merchant.'

'Quite so,' agreed Christopher, anxious not to offend him. 'You have many other arrows to your bow, Sir Ambrose, I know. There must be few men of consequence in London with a quiver as full as yours.'

'Very few.'

'Your talents are so copious. Henry is astounded by your vigour.'

A sly smile. 'Your brother has his occasional bursts of energy.'

'But nothing like your staying-power, Sir Ambrose. He is in awe of you, believe me. Henry has his gifts but he could not do half the things which you contrive to do.'

Northcott was mollified. Christopher had a winning politeness and a readiness to please his employer. Northcott was growing to like him. For his part, Christopher was still too grateful to his companion to have any reservations about his character. Northcott could be peremptory at times and downright rude if there was the slightest questioning of his decisions but the architect took all that in his stride, constantly aware that he who pays the piper calls the tune. Christopher was more than content to play it for him and, in Samuel Littlejohn, he had an ideal musical ally. The two of them worked together in perfect harmony.

'This will be my last visit for a little while,' said Northcott.

'Oh? I am sorry to hear that.'

'I will be away on business for a fortnight or more. When I come back, I hope to see that substantial progress has been made.'

'We will not disappoint you, Sir Ambrose.'

'During my absence, Mr Creech will be in charge of my affairs.'

'Mr Creech?'

'Solomon Creech is my lawyer,' explained the other.

'All monies due to you or to Mr Littlejohn will be released through him. I have also asked him to keep a close eye on developments here so you will very soon be making his acquaintance.'

'I look forward to that. Away for a fortnight, you say?'

'At least.'

'Will you be returning home to Kent?'

'That is my business,' said the other with a note of reprimand.

'Of course, Sir Ambrose,' said Christopher. 'It is not my place to pry into your affairs. I merely wished to know if there was some means of getting in touch with you in the event of a contingency arising here.'

'Speak to my lawyer.'

'Will Mr Creech have ready access to you?'

'He is empowered to act on my behalf.'

'Then nothing more need be added on the subject.'

'Nothing at all, Christopher.'

His remark was buttressed by a mild glare. Christopher accepted the rebuke with good grace and sought to win back Northcott's approval. He drew his employer's attention to the drawings and the two of them were soon bent over the trestle table, discussing every detail of the house. Their mutual enthusiasm for the project quickly repaired the minor rift between them and they conversed for almost an hour. By the time they finished, Northcott's good humour had returned and he even felt able to pat his architect on the back.

'It will be one of the finest houses in London,' he said.

'You must take the credit for that, Sir Ambrose.'

'I had the sense to choose the right architect and the right builder.'