A Murderous Affair Read online

  ‘The next day I received long-awaited intelligence that the Spanish Armada would set sail in the middle of May – one month away – and this news was the catalyst for the final efforts of preparation, which were to consume all of my energies. I pushed Don Alphonse’s story from my mind, convinced even more that the intelligence must be false, and consoling myself with the thought that by now, in any case, it was too late for the conspiracy, if it existed, to do much more damage. Robert, I think I would like a little wine now, my throat has become exceedingly dry.’

  This sudden jolt in the narrative caused me to break from the grip Walsingham’s words had exerted over me. My neck and back had become quite stiff as a result of sitting still for so long on the hard wooden chair, and the ornate carving on the back was starting to make deep, uncomfortable impressions into my skin. Robert indicated to me and I poured a glass of wine for both him and Walsingham, before replenishing my own glass, only to catch my brother eyeing me with displeasure. I ignored his look and sat back heavily in the uncomfortable wooden chair, taking a defiant swig from my glass. Walsingham’s expression showed a hint of amusement, as he took a slow draft of the wine, nodded his approval and then continued his narrative.

  ‘As I am sure you can imagine the Armada occupied all of my thoughts and energies throughout the summer. When final confirmation of the defeat came in September, there was still much to do. Even now preparations are being made to engage the enemy further. I had long forgotten all about Don Alphonse’s visit. I was surprised therefore to receive a letter from him, only days ago, saying that he had acquired the proof I had asked for and hoped I would now listen to him. Although I still felt it unlikely that his accusations were well founded, I was eager to repair our relationship and so I wrote in reply that I would see him on the morning after the procession to St Paul’s. This morning to be precise.’ Walsingham turned his gaze on my brother. ‘The morning after, I believe, he spent the evening in this house.’

  As the conversation had turned to more recent events, my brother had begun shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Walsingham’s clear challenge now forced him to speak.

  ‘Don Alphonse was an occasional visitor to this house for some months. We have some mutual, um, business arrangements.’

  Walsingham let these words settle as though he were sifting the weight of each one. An uncomfortable silenced ensued, which my brother again felt compelled to break.

  ‘Last night he attended a dinner at which we celebrated the Armada victory.’ So, Don Alphonse had been my brother’s guest on the night he was murdered. Is that why he had been pondering the fire morosely all evening – a sniff of a scandal was threatening to halt his meteoric rise to the top?

  ‘Yes, he had informed me he would be your guest last night, and, naturally, when he didn’t turn up this morning I sent word here, only to discover that tragic events had overtaken him. Had he been in England prior to that?’

  ‘Yes. As far as I’m aware.’

  ‘In London?’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘Interesting, but, of course, I must have failed to mention that his most recent letter, the one that spoke of proof, was dispatched from the coastal town of Rye, only three days ago.’ Almost imperceptibly Walsingham had moved from narrator to interrogator. The atmosphere in the room had become thick with tension. ‘I wondered if he had returned from some voyage?’

  ‘He never mentioned Rye to me. I thought he was in London.’ My brother spoke tersely, as if wishing to end this exchange.

  ‘Quite so, Robert,’ Walsingham paused long enough to show he had recognised the change of tone, and then went on in a more temperate manner. ‘It appears that his movements, whatever they may have been, are to remain a mystery for the time being. As a proud man, I fear my initial failure to take his story more seriously may have hurt him deeply and, perhaps, driven him on recklessly to get the information I required. Any sea voyages at this time would have been quite dangerous; the sea is littered with desperate Spanish galleons fleeing homewards. Wherever he had been, in his letter he wrote of conclusive proof. Unfortunately, as I was not able to speak to him on his return, we are currently in the dark as to what that proof might be and, more importantly, who it implicates.’

  The tension in the room had subsided slightly, but Walsingham seemed reluctant to let it die completely.

  ‘So, we have come to Don Alphonse’s last hours. On returning to London from Rye, ostensibly to take part in the procession, but also to give me the information he has gathered to convince me of a plot, Don Alphonse attends the Armada celebration and then comes to dine in this house. As you related to me earlier, Robert, after spending an enjoyable evening in the company of yourself and others, he takes his leave of your household. Did he give you any indication as to where he was going?’

  My brother paused for a moment, as though reluctant to contribute anything to the narrative. ‘It was late. However, he did mention that he had something to attend to – business or pleasure, I couldn’t say. All I can say is that he was in perfect health when he left this house.’

  Walsingham ignored the last sentence. ‘And that is the last we hear of him until this morning, when his body is discovered washed up at … what did you say the name of the place was, Master Lovat?’

  ‘Cuckold’s Point.’

  ‘How very curious.’

  ‘And, at some point in between, someone took that rather fine seal and necklace you gave him, presumably as a gift, brother, and strangled the poor fellow?’ Robert glanced at me sharply, his look showing the unmistakable sign of fear under his anger, but Walsingham only nodded in agreement.

  ‘I am very much afraid it would appear so. The question is who and why? It seems to me that there is every likelihood that Don Alphonse was killed before he could speak to me because he did indeed have intelligence that was of a compromising nature to a person or persons unknown. However, there is also the possibility that he was killed for some other pertinent reason, unknown to any of us in this room.’

  ‘He could simply have been the victim of an unpremeditated assault in the street. Such things are far from uncommon.’ My brother’s tone suggested he would find that a satisfactory solution to the mystery.

  ‘Marry, Robert, granted you could be right, but, personally speaking, I think his death is too much of a coincidence. However, let me hear your brother’s thoughts on the matter. After all, he will be the one whose task it is to discover the truth.’

  And with that he turned his level gaze on me.

  Chapter 7

  ‘Nothing is so firmly believed as that which is least known.’

  (Michel de Montaigne; Essays)

  By now we were deep into the far reaches of the night and, despite the fire, the cold had taken a firm grip on the room. Walsingham and my brother were both afforded the luxury of deep upholstered armchairs, whilst my hard, fussily carved wooden chair offered no protection at all and even lacked a cushion. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to find some solace for my numb limbs, but also buying a bit of time before answering the direct question that Walsingham had put to me.

  ‘Well, Master Lovat?’ he prompted.

  I ran my mind across the various permutations and tried to spell them out in as measured terms as possible, aware that my brother was watching me closely. ‘As far as time of death is concerned, it seems to me that if he was, as seems most likely, strangled with the necklace you gave him brother, then it happened soon after leaving this house. Although I am sure he deemed it a great honour, I doubt he would have continued to wear it for long due to its weight.’ I took a sip of wine and ploughed on. ‘As far as the matter of who did it and why, we can reach no firm conclusions at present. Certainly the story of treason is a compelling one. Let me be certain that I have understood that correctly – a sea captain with Catholic sympathies has been giving secrets to the Spaniards in exchange for being allowed to trade illegal goods? A common enough temptation, I don’t doubt. And this captain’s fleet is und
er the command of someone who has access to government?’ I paused for a moment. ‘My first thought would be that the sea captain’s actions in no way imply the senior man’s guilt. He may be operating in complete isolation, the ship’s owner quite ignorant. To suggest treason at the heart of the government seems somewhat of a stretch.’

  ‘Spoken with admirable caution, Master Lovat,’ Walsingham said approvingly. ‘Although, Don Alphonse was adamant that there was a link. Besides, what secrets could the captain leak that were worth a candle, without, that is, information from above?’

  ‘Without any names to investigate, or the proof that he spoke of in his letter, it will be difficult to determine one way or the other.’

  ‘Just so,’ my brother interjected.

  ‘With no evidence to go on concerning the plot, perhaps we should concentrate on the other end – Don Alphonse’s murder,’ I continued quietly, almost to myself. ‘The possibility that Don Alphonse may have also had a pre-arranged meeting after the dinner is an intriguing one. There is certainly some ambiguity in his remark about an appointment, and if he was meeting someone last night that could point us directly to the killer. As far as your theory of a random attack is concerned brother, the city is certainly a violent and dangerous place. However, I’m afraid I have to point out that a thief would hardly have needed your necklace as a weapon, nor would he have expected it to be round Don Alphonse’s neck. They have plenty of their own tools of the trade, in my experience.’

  ‘An excellent assumption Master Lovat,’ said Walsingham, glancing towards Robert, who grunted in grudging acknowledgment.

  By now I was warming to the task in hand. ‘Perhaps we should start with the dinner itself, seeing as that was the last time anyone saw him alive. How many guests were there in total Robert?’

  ‘I hardly see how that is relevant. My guests had nothing to do with this sordid affair.’ My brother’s statement was a little too assertive, as though he had been ready to deflect any questions in that direction. For the time being, I thought it prudent to pursue a different theme.

  ‘What is the history of the seal and chain?’

  ‘I presented him with the seal out of gratitude for his service. Don Alphonse gave some financial support to the regiment I mustered at the time of the Armada crisis. The regiment you should have been part of, incidentally.’ This was a reference to an on-going argument we had been having. With the impending threat of the Armada, Robert, required like all noblemen to provide men for the oncoming battle, had wanted me to muster with his troops on the South coast of England in Kent. I had chosen instead to join up with the trained band of the Bridge Within Ward, as required by the city laws. Robert thought I should have put family duty first. I was always considered part of the family when it suited him.

  ‘When did Don Alphonse leave, brother?’ I said trying to hide any exasperation I felt at my brother’s inability to let sleeping dogs lie.

  ‘At around nine o’clock.’

  ‘And was he alone?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. Perhaps a servant will remember. I’ve asked Nesbitt to make enquiries amongst the staff.’

  ‘Where does … did Don Alphonse live?’

  My brother hesitated for a moment ‘I don’t know. He has a port office in Billingsgate.’

  I looked at Walsingham to see if he could enlighten me further as to Don Alphonse’s home address but he too shook his head. ‘I’m sure it won’t be hard to find his lodgings in the city but he certainly never confided its whereabouts to me.’ It struck me as unusual that neither Walsingham nor my brother knew where Don Alphonse lived, but I put it down to the fact that he hadn’t been one for throwing parties. ‘Has anyone informed his port address that the body has been found? They could inform his family perhaps?’

  ‘As far as I am aware, there is no one to tell. He was not married and has no children.’ This was typical of my brother. The fact that there might be servants who were now wondering where their master had got to would not have occurred to him. Those who sat below the salt barely existed in his eyes – attendants might as well be invisible.

  ‘Was there anyone at the dinner who might be considered an enemy of Don Alphonse? Anyone who might have had a grudge against him, Robert?’ Without thinking, I had again trespassed on sensitive ground.

  ‘You are surely not suggesting that any of my guests would have been involved?’

  ‘I merely ask, brother. It seems expedient to check, that’s all.’

  ‘There is absolutely no need to disturb anyone who was a guest in this house. As Sir Francis has explained to you already, we have good reasons to suspect the killer was in some underhand business to do with spying.’ So, Robert had decided that might be likely after all! ‘There are darker forces at work.’

  As though aware of Walsingham silently directing me, I ploughed on recklessly. ‘But, brother, the man was killed shortly after a visit to your house. At the very least you and your guests were the last people to see him alive. Perhaps he said something to one of them about where he was going? Perhaps he had an argument with one of them?’

  ‘Don’t be damned impertinent, Lovat.’ Lovat was my mother’s name. I hadn’t been allowed the family name, and Robert always called me Lovat when he wanted to put me in my place. The colour was rising in his cheeks above his distinctive beard and despite himself his voice rose in volume. ‘I won’t have a common spy interrogating people who are above suspicion. You need not concern yourself with anything outside of your assignment. Do you understand?’

  ‘On the contrary, Lord Robert.’ It was the first time Walsingham had spoken for a while and his low, measured tone made a sharp contrast with my brother’s high-pitched anger. ‘I think we should allow Master Lovat to have free rein in this matter. After all, we have no idea who represents those ‘darker forces’, as you so aptly put it. I’m afraid no one can be above suspicion, at least until proved otherwise. Perhaps you could ask one of your servants to prepare a list of your guests of that evening for your brother.’

  ‘Sir Francis, I must insist that my guests are not harassed.’ My brother said, struggling to hide his exasperation. ‘You must take it on my word of honour that none of them could have been involved in this squalid affair.’

  ‘Perhaps we can make do for now with only those who knew Don Alphonse,’ I said, coming to my brother’s rescue.

  ‘There were certain gentlemen present known to him but I can’t believe that any of them were involved in his death.’ It was obvious that my brother was obstinately refusing to mention their names.

  ‘Was Don Alphonse attended on by anyone? Friends, a servant perhaps?’

  ‘Don Alphonse was a singular individual. I can’t recall him ever mentioning friends. As for servants...’ My brother trailed a hand through the air as if the mere thought of minions was beneath him.

  ‘Don Alphonse did have a manservant,’ Walsingham interjected. ‘A rather unusual one as it happened: an African from Guinea. I believe he had been in service to Don Alphonse for many years. I’m surprised you don’t remember him, Robert. Whenever I’ve seen him in Don Alphonse’s company he has been remarked upon. His name is Cassangoe.’

  ‘A savage?’ I knew my brother well enough to see immediately how his mind was working. ‘Then he must be accounted for immediately. I will call Nesbitt at once.’ He stood and pulled on a long chord hanging by the fireplace, which I knew from experience set a bell ringing deep in the bowels of the house. Nesbitt had obviously been on standby because a few moments later his hunched frame was filling the doorway. My brother went straight to the point.

  ‘Nesbitt you spoke to the servants earlier? Do you have any light to shed on the mystery.’

  ‘I have, your Lordship, but there is little of use I am afraid. Don Alphonse is remembered both arriving and leaving by the river gate last night but as to where he came from or went to, no one is the wiser.’

  ‘Did he have a servant with him? An African man?’

  ‘No one recalls hi
m being accompanied by anyone on his arrival.’ Nesbitt calmly raised his eyes to survey the faces in front of him. ‘I’m sure they would have remembered an African servant. I am reliably informed, however, that he left with some other gentlemen. They took a boat together, though it is not known where.’

  I sensed immediately from my brother’s reaction that Nesbitt, in his efficient, eager to please manner, had said too much. Walsingham immediately pounced on the information.

  ‘How interesting. Do you know their names, Master Nesbitt?’

  Too late Nesbitt realised that this information was confidential as far as my brother was concerned. Fortunately for him, he wasn’t able to give any names but this only led Walsingham to turn his level gaze on Robert. The question didn’t need asking again but even so my brother was reluctant to answer. After a moment he said:

  ‘I believe one of them was a gentleman called Simon Turney. He is also a merchant adventurer. There had been some discussions between them during the evening but more than that I honestly can’t say. Yes, casting my mind back, I think they left together.’ I could tell that Walsingham wanted to pursue this information but there was an invisible barrier that prevented him from questioning my brother lest his persistence should appear impertinent. He decided to turn to me instead.

  ‘Well, Master Lovat, it would appear you have two lines of enquiry to pursue – Don Alphonse’s servant, Cassangoe, and this man Turney, who I am sure it will not have escaped your notice is, by trade, a ‘sea captain’. No doubt one or the other can shed some light on the matter.’ He rose to his feet indicating that he wished to leave. ‘Your laying out of the case and the questions you have already asked suggest that you are very much the man for the task of getting to the bottom of this mystery. I would like to see the murderer brought to justice, whether it has anything to do with treason or not. Your brother has willingly offered your services, and, therefore, I suggest you visit me in three days time at my house in Barn Elms and report what you have discovered. Now Robert, if you don’t mind, I think I must be on my way. Ursula will be worried and a late journey down the river in this cold will hardly be good for my ague. Could Master Lovat call my oarsman perhaps and then see me to my boat?’