The present situation was a case in point. She was very distressed by what had happened to Hans Kippel, her young apprentice, all the more so because the boy had been sent expressly at her command to deliver the order. Anne blamed herself for entrusting such an important duty to such an untried youth. In giving Hans Kippel an extra responsibility, she had exposed him unnecessarily to the dangers of city life. The wounds he got in her service were each a separate reproach to her and she could not bear to look on as they were bathed and bandaged. Preben van Loew tried to assure her that it was not her fault but his words fell on deaf ears. What she needed was the more persuasive, objective, down-to-earth comfort of the man who shared her house with her but he was not there.
The longer she waited, the more convinced she became that he, too, had met with violence on his journey home. As evening became night and night slipped soundlessly into the next day, Anne was almost distraught, pacing the floor of her main room with a candle in her hand and racing to peer through the window every time a footstep was heard on the cobbles outside. The house was not large but she had felt the need for male companionship after her husband’s demise and she had taken in a lodger so that she might have the sense of a man about the place once more. It had been a rewarding experiment. The guest had turned out to be not only an exemplary lodger and a loyal friend but — at special moments savoured by both — he had been considerably more. To have lost him at a time when she needed him most would indeed be a cruel stroke of fortune. His movements were uncertain and his hours of work irregular but he should have been back long before now. When there was some unexpected delay, he usually sent word to put her mind at rest.
Where could he be at such a late hour? Bankside was littered with hazards enough in broad daylight. With the cover of darkness, those hazards multiplied a hundredfold. Could he have met the same trouble as Hans Kippel and be lying in his own blood in some fetid lane? Her immediate impulse was to take a lantern and go in search of him but the futility of such a gesture was borne in upon her. It was no use subjecting herself to such grave danger. She was virtually trapped in the house and she had to make the most of it. With a great effort of will, she sat down at the table, put the candle aside, took several deep breaths and told herself to remain calm in the emergency. It worked for a matter of minutes. Worries then flooded back and she was up on her feet again to confront each new horrible possibility that her imagination threw up.
Anne Hendrik was so enmeshed in her concern that she did not hear the key being inserted into the front door. The first she knew of her deliverance was when the solid figure stood before her in the gloom.
Tears came as she flung herself into his arms.
‘God be praised!’
‘What ails you?’
‘Hold me tight, sir. Hold me very tight.’
‘So I will, my love.’
‘I have been in such dread for your safety.’
‘Here I am, unharmed, as you see.’
‘Thank the Lord!’
Nicholas Bracewell held her close and kissed the top of her head softly. It was most unlike her to be so on edge and it took him some time to calm her enough to get the full story out of her. Anne sat opposite him at the table and talked of the deep guilt she felt about Hans Kippel. He heard her out before offering his advice.
‘You do yourself an injustice, Anne.’
‘Do I, sir?’
‘The boy is old enough and sensible enough to take on such a duty. It is all part of his apprenticeship. I warrant that he was delighted when you chose him.’
‘Indeed, he was. It got him away from here.’
‘Out of the dullness of his workplace and into the excitement of the streets,’ said Nicholas. ‘Hans will have been a little careless, that is all. He will not make the same mistake again.’
‘But that is the trouble of it.’
‘What is?’
‘Hans does not understand the nature of his error.’
‘He was off guard for a moment, surely?’
‘Maybe, Nick,’ she said. ‘But he does not remember. Hans took such a blow on the head that it has knocked the memory out of him. All he can recall is that some men attacked him and that he got away. When, where or why are questions that the lad cannot as yet comprehend.’
‘His wounds have been tended?’
‘Of course, sir. The surgeon said it is not uncommon to find a lapse of memory in such cases. Hans must be given time to recover. As his body mends, haply his mind will be made whole again.’ Anne seized his hands to squeeze them. ‘Speak to him, Nick. The boy likes you and looks up to you. Help the poor creature for pity’s sake.’
‘I will do all that is needful. Trust it well.’
‘Your words are a balm to me.’
He leant forward to embrace her then turned to his own story. When he explained what had detained him, Anne was thrown into disarray once more. The injuries of a young apprentice paled beside the discovery of a dead body in the River Thames. Nicholas Bracewell and Abel Strudwick had taken the corpse back to the wharf from which they had departed. After rousing the watch, they had been required to give sworn statements to a magistrate before being allowed to go. Strudwick had then rowed his friend to Bankside in a grim silence that no music could break. Tragedy had knocked all poetic skills out of him.
Anne was in a state of total dismay.
‘Who was the man?’ she said.
‘We have no means of knowing as yet.’
‘But why was he stripped of his clothing?’
‘The murderer may have thought his apparel worth the taking,’ he said. ‘And that argues rich garments which could be sold for gain. I think, however, that there could be another reason behind it. His clothing could have helped to identify him and much care was taken to render the poor soul anonymous. The way that his face was beaten to a pulp, his own kin would not be able to recognise him. He went out of this world in the most damnable way.’
‘Could nothing be learnt from the corpse, Nick?’
‘Only some idea of his age, which I would put around thirty summers. And one thing more, Anne.’
‘Well, sir?’
‘The body had not long been in the water.’
‘How can you be sure of that?’
‘By bitter experience,’ he said. ‘I have seen all too many men who have found a watery grave. Rigor mortis sets in after a time and the miserable creatures become bloated in a way too hideous to describe. The person we found tonight was dropped into the river only a short time beforehand.’
‘Was any other villainy wreaked upon him?’
‘He was stabbed through the neck and one of his legs was horribly broken.’ He saw her flinch. ‘But these are details enough for you. I would not vex you any more.’
‘My joy at seeing you again is blackened by this grim intelligence.’ Fresh tears threatened. ‘The body in the river could so easily have been yours, Nick.’
‘With Abel Strudwick to look after me?’ he said with a smile. ‘I could not ask for a better guard. A whole armada would not dare to take on Abel when he is afloat. He would give them a broadside with his curses then rake their decks with a fusillade of poems.’
She went back into his arms and hugged him close.
‘It has been a long and lonely night for me.’
‘I did not stay away from you out of choice, Anne.’
‘There is almost too much for me to bear.’
‘Let us share the load, my love.’
‘That was my hope.’