‘I’m sure that he knows that.’
‘So what happens now, Nick?’
‘We’ve seen the last of Denmark for a while,’ said Nicholas, looking around at the happy faces of the actors. ‘The company has prospered from the three plays that we presented, and we made many admirers, but I cannot say that I am sorry to leave. Tomorrow, we board the Cormorant again. Anne will finally reach Amsterdam and we will head for home.’
Elias cackled. ‘Think of all those broken-hearted women who will welcome me back,’ he said, rubbing his hands together.
‘Think instead of the man who has twice tried to kill you.’
‘Oh, I’ve not forgotten him, Nick.’
‘His name is Josias Greet and my guess is that he’s probably sailing to London now. We’ll catch up with him one day.’
When he reached the capital, Isaac Dunmow rode straight to the inn and took a room. He then sent word to Josias Greet and counted out the money while he waited for the man to arrive. A letter from Anthony Rooker had informed him that Greet had returned and claimed to have good news for him. Dunmow had set out from York at once. Instead of dulling his urge for revenge, the passage of time had merely sharpened it. If their mission had been completed, his hired killers deserved their reward.
An hour later, Josias Greet was shown up to the room, almost panting with eagerness. He was carrying a blood stained bag. Taking off his greasy cap, he gave an ingratiating smile.
‘Good day to you, Master Dunmow,’ he said, displaying a row of misshapen teeth. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you in the city again.’
‘Well, I get no pleasure from looking at your vile face. The sooner we settle this matter, the better.’ He regarded his visitor critically. ‘I had a letter from Master Rooker. He says that you’ve done my bidding.’
‘That’s right, sir. Of course, I did not tell him what that bidding was. I obeyed your orders, sir. I simply went to his office and gave him the message that you wanted.’
‘Owen Elias is dead?’
‘As a doornail.’
‘Burnt?’
‘To a cinder.’
‘How do I know?’
‘Because I brought something for you,’ said Greet, opening the bag to take out a charred hand. ‘I cut this from his arm, sir.’
Dunmow stared at the hand with distaste then looked away.
‘Where is Ryden?’ he asked.
‘Ah, that’s the sad part of the tale, sir. He’s dead.’
Greet went on to give a rambling account of the murder of Owen Elias. He claimed that Ben Ryden had been killed when he fought with the Welshman, leaving Greet to overpower and burn Elias. The details he gave of their voyage and of their brief stay in Elsinore sounded convincing enough but the rest of his story struck a false note. Dunmow scowled at him.
‘You’re lying, you scabby knave,’ he said.
‘I’d swear on the Bible that it’s the truth, sir.’
‘Then your tongue would turn black.’
‘I did as you told me,’ insisted Greet, waving the scorched hand in front of him. ‘Where else could I have got this?’
‘From anyone. How do I know it belonged to Elias?’
‘You have my sacred word.’
Dunmow sneered. ‘You’ve never told the truth in your life.’
‘As God’s my witness, this is his hand.’
‘Get out of here!’
Greet slapped the hand on the table. ‘I want the money.’
‘Then you’ll have to wait until Westfield’s Men come back to England. If Elias is still alive, you’ll not get a penny.’
‘Pay up, sir,’ growled the other. ‘You promised.’
‘What I promised was to pay you and Ben Ryden. That means you get only half of the fee — or none at all, if you failed to kill Elias for the second time.’
‘I want it all, Master Dunmow. I earned it.’
‘We’ll only know that when Westfield’s Men return.’
‘Give it to me!’
‘I give nothing to liars,’ said Dunmow, crossing to open the door. ‘Now clear off before you stink the place out — and take that foul hand with you.’ Greet glowered at him. ‘Go on — get out.’
Greet bowed his head obediently and put the hand into the bag. As he did so, he kept his back to the other man so that he could take a dagger from his belt. Dunmow would not be fooled. If they waited until Westfield’s Men returned, then Greet’s lies would be exposed and he would get nothing. If he wanted the money, he had to take it now. When he turned to face Dunmow, therefore, he brought his hand upwards with full force, sinking the dagger into his stomach then twisting it sharply to give maximum pain. Isaac Dunmow goggled. He opened his mouth to cry for help but all that came out was a faint gurgle. Grinning with pleasure, Greet continued to twist the blade. It was only when Dunmow fell slowly to the floor that he pulled the dagger out again.
Stepping over his victim, he opened the bag that held the hand and scooped all that money on the table into it. Then he looked down at Isaac Dunmow, still writhing in pain as his lifeblood drained out of him. Greet gave him a gratuitous kick.
‘You should have paid me when I asked,’ he said.
Leaving the inn by the back door, he walked back to his lodging through the crowded streets, knowing that he had enough money to last him for a year. He began to speculate on how he could best spend it. There was no thought of Ben Ryden now. The reward belonged entirely to Josias Greet and he would enjoy it to the hilt. The long walk took him to one of the more squalid areas of the city, a narrow, twisting lane with an open sewer running down the middle of it. When a dog came sniffing at him, he swung the bag to knock it away and it went yelping off down the lane.
Greet entered a tenement and climbed the stairs to his room. Opening the door, he crossed to the bed and emptied his booty over the soiled mattress. He let out a harsh laugh. Then he heard the door slam shut behind him. Someone had already been in the room.
‘Hello, Josias,’ said Owen Elias. ‘Remember me?’
Greet was horror-struck. ‘No, sir,’ he gabbled. ‘I’ve never seen you before in my life.’
‘That’s because you always crept up behind me before — both here in London and in Elsinore.’ He glanced at the mattress. ‘Would that be Ben Ryden’s hand, by any chance?’
‘There’s been a mistake. You have the wrong man.’
‘It was you who made the mistake, Josias Greet — not once, but twice.’ He pulled out his sword. ‘You tried to kill me.’
‘Keep away from me,’ said Greet, moving to the window with his dagger in his hand. ‘I’ll not warn you again.’ As Elias took a step towards him, Greet raised his weapon. ‘Stand back, I say.’
He flung the dagger across the room. Elias ducked out of the way and it flew past him before embedding itself in the door. Greet did not stay. Flinging open the window, he jumped through it and dropped down until he landed in a pile of offal. Before he could move, a hand closed around his neck and forced his back against the wall. Nicholas Bracewell had been waiting to cut off any attempted escape.
‘Stay a while,’ he ordered. ‘We need to talk to you.’
‘What do you want with me?’ jabbered Greet.
‘We have several scores to settle with you. That’s why we came here as soon as we landed. Master Rooker was kind enough to give us your address,’ said Nicholas. ‘You left it with him for Isaac Dunmow, we hear. We came straight to this rat hole to find you.’
Greet tried to break free but Nicholas was far too strong. Owen Elias came out of the house to join them. He looked at the prisoner with absolute disgust then flexed both hands.
‘Let me go,’ pleaded Greet. ‘I have money. I’ll pay you.’
‘Oh, you’ll pay,’ said Nicholas. ‘We can promise that.’
‘Master Dunmow hired us. He is to blame.’
‘You were the one who attacked me,’ said Elias. ‘You and that other villain whose throat you cut back in Elsinore.’
‘I did that as a favour to Ben,’ said Greet. ‘He was in agony.’