The King's Evil (13 page)

'Stay
clear, Mr Redmayne,' he said. 'I will take charge now.'

'That
slight bruising around his throat. I did not notice that earlier. Nor that
trickle of blood on his scalp.'

'Did
you touch the body at all, sir?'

'No.'

'So
it has not been moved?'

'It
is exactly as I found it, Mr Bale.'

'Good.'

The
constable was methodical. Before he examined the body itself, he memorised its
position and noted the telltale marks all round it on the dust-covered ground.
His eye measured the dimensions of the chamber then scoured every inch of it.
When he knelt to study the corpse, he ignored the half-eaten face, more
interested in the wickedness of man than in the hunger of rats. He carefully
opened the flaps of Sir Ambrose Northcott's coat so that he could view each
stab wound in turn. The dagger had left ugly red holes in the man's waistcoat
and Holland shirt before plunging finally into the heart. Jonathan searched
every pocket. It was a long time before he rose reflectively to his feet.

Christopher
watched him with gathering impatience.

'Well?'
he said.

'This
is a bad business, sir.'

'There
are obvious signs of a struggle.'

'So
I see.'

'He
was a strong man. He would have put up a fight.'

'You
know the deceased?'

'Of
course. It is Sir Ambrose Northcott.'

'Indeed?'
Jonathan took a last look at the corpse before turning to appraise Christopher.
'When did you discover the body, sir?'

'Soon
after I arrived.'

'And
when was that?'

'Dawn
was still breaking.'

'An
early hour for such a visit, sir.'

'I
was anxious to see Sir Ambrose.'

'Did
you arrange to meet him here?'

'No,
no,' said Christopher. 'But I was confident that he would come to the site at
some stage. When he is in London, he calls here every day without fail. I
wanted to reassure myself.'

'Reassure?'

'That
no harm had befallen him. Sir Ambrose disappeared last night. My brother came
to my house in great alarm. Sir Ambrose had promised to meet him that evening
but he did not turn up or send an apology for his absence. That is most
unusual, according to Henry.'

'Is
he your brother, sir?'

'Yes.
Henry Redmayne. He is - or, at least, was - a good friend of Sir Ambrose
Northcott. Henry searched for him all over the city last night. When there was
no sign of him, he became profoundly worried.'

'With
cause, it seems,' said the other.

'Alas,
yes.'

'What
made you come into the cellars, sir?'

'Curiosity.'

'It
seems an odd thing to do,' observed the constable with a hint of suspicion. 'If
you were hoping to meet someone on the site, the last place you would expect to
find him is in a dark cellar. Why come here?'

'Because
of what the nightwatchman said.'

'Jem?'

'Yes.
He told me that Sir Ambrose called here yesterday evening. I have no reason to
doubt his word.'

'Nor
me, sir. I can vouch for Jem Raybone.'

'Unfortunately,
he was not able to tell me very much but he did remember that Sir Ambrose went
down into the cellars.'

'Why?'

'Presumably,
to show them off to his companion.'

Interest
sharpened. 'There was someone with him?'

'Another
man.'

'Did
Jem recognise the fellow?'

'No,
but then he was not encouraged to take a proper look at him. Sir Ambrose made
it quite clear that he did not want the nightwatchman peering over their
shoulders. Jem made himself scarce.'

'So
he
might
have known this other man?'

'If
he'd been allowed more than a brief glance.'

Jonathan
gazed steadily at him, his tone deliberately neutral.

'Were
you the man in question, sir?'

'Of
course not!' said Christopher hotly, taken aback. 'I came nowhere near the site
yesterday evening.'

'Can
you tell me where you did go, Mr Redmayne?'

'This
is absurd, man! You surely do not suspect me?'

'I
have to consider all possibilities.'

'Well,
you can eliminate my name at once,' said Christopher with righteous
indignation. 'Sir Ambrose Northcott was my employer. Why on earth should I want
to murder him?'

'It
may be that you had a disagreement, sir,' suggested Jonathan, fixing him with a
stare. 'Over money, perhaps. Or the terms of your contract with him. You tell
me, sir. All I know is that it does seem strange for a man to come to the house
in the half-dark and go straight to the place where the body lay.' 'I had no
idea what I was going to find down here.'

'Really,
sir?'

'I
was shaken to the core by the discovery. Ask Jem.'

'He
says that you would not let him anywhere near you.'

'That
is right but he must have heard the upset in my voice.'

'He
heard only what you wanted him to hear, sir.'

'Stop
this!' exploded Christopher. 'I'll bear no more of it. You have no right to
accuse me. Look there, Mr Bale,' he ordered, pointing at the corpse. 'What you
see is the body of a murdered man. Do you know what I see lying there? The
probable death of my whole career as an architect. Sir Ambrose Northcott gave
me an opportunity which few men would offer to a novice like myself. This house
would have been a personal monument, a way to advertise my talents to all who
saw it. But the likelihood is that it will never be built now. Think on that.
Would I be foolish enough to kill the one man who had real faith in me?'

'It
seems unlikely, I grant you.'

'Thank
you!' said Christopher with sarcasm. 'And if I
had
been the killer, do you imagine I would be stupid enough to return to the scene
of the crime like this then send for a constable?'

'That
would have been guile rather than stupidity, sir.'

'Guile?'

'Yes,
Mr Redmayne. You would be surprised how many times the person who reports a
murder turns out to have committed it. There is no simpler way to throw
suspicion off yourself.'

More
sarcasm. 'It did not work in my case, did it?'

'No,
sir. But, then, I am already acquainted with you.'

'What
do you mean?'

'I
do not trust you,' said Jonathan levelly.

Christopher
blenched. 'Why ever not?'

'You
are inclined to passion, sir.'

'Passion!'
'You are showing it now.'

'Only
because you are provoking me!'

'Are
you so easily provoked, Mr Redmayne?'

Christopher
turned abruptly away and fought hard to master his temper. There was a lengthy
pause. Jonathan took another look at the corpse. When he spoke again, his tone
was more conciliatory.

'I
do not believe that you committed this crime, sir.'

'Oh,
you've worked that out, have you?' said Christopher, swinging back to face him.
'First you insult me then you exonerate me. What new piece of evidence have you
stumbled on?'

'The
evidence of my own eyes. You would not take such a risk.'

'Risk?'

'Of
being recognised by the nightwatchman. Jem Raybone is a sharp-eyed man. Even at
a glance, I think he would pick you out. No,' decided the constable, 'you were
not the man who was seen going into the cellars with Sir Ambrose Northcott.'
Christopher nodded gratefully and breathed heavily through his nose. 'Do you
know if Jem saw one or both men leaving?'

'Neither.
He was looking the other way.'

'So
the murder could have taken place there and then?'

'Yes,
Mr Bale.'

'The
condition of the body suggests that it did. I would like it confirmed by a
surgeon,' said Jonathan softly, 'but my guess is that Sir Ambrose was killed at
least twelve hours ago. In which case, the prime suspect must be this
unidentified companion.'

'Not
I,' insisted the other.

'Who
is not - I now accept - you, sir.'

A
long sigh. 'I am glad that we agree on that.'

'The
vital question is this: why did Sir Ambrose Northcott come down here with that
man in the first place? Did he sense no danger?'

'Not
until it was too late.'

They
gazed down soulfully at the corpse. The nightwatchman's voice broke in. He was
standing on the cellar steps, guessing what must have been discovered and
afraid to venture any closer.

'Mr
Littlejohn has just arrived,' he called.

'Keep
him out of here,' replied Jonathan.

'What
shall I tell him?'

'I
will speak to him myself, Jem.' He was about to move off when Christopher's
hand detained him. 'You have inadvertently taken hold of my arm, sir,' he said
politely. 'I must ask you to release it.'

'Gladly,'
said Christopher, retaining his grip, 'when you tell me why you dislike me so
much.'

'My
opinion of you does not come into it, Mr Redmayne.'

'It
informs your whole attitude towards me.'

'That
is not true, sir.'

'Something
about me seems to irritate you.'

'I
am not irritated,' said Jonathan calmly. 'But I will admit that I would rather
be in this cellar with someone else.'

'Why?'

'It
is a personal matter. Now, please let go of me.'

Christopher
released his arm then followed him through the cellars and up the stone steps.
Both men were glad to be back out in the fresh air again and they inhaled
deeply. Samuel Littlejohn was waiting for them, his face etched with concern.
He lurched forward.

'What
has happened, constable?' he said.

'I
have sad news, I fear,' said Jonathan. 'Sir Ambrose Northcott has been stabbed
to death. His body lies in the cellar.'

Littlejohn
recoiled and brought both hands up to his head.

'This
cannot be!' he gasped.

'Mr
Redmayne found and identified him.'

'It
is true, Mr Littlejohn,' confirmed Christopher.

The
builder was aghast. 'But what about the house?'

'That
is the least of my concerns at the moment, sir,' said Jonathan briskly. 'A
murder has been committed. Finding the killer is my priority. Jem,' he
continued, turning to the nightwatchman. 'Run to the Hope and Anchor on St
Peter's Hill. You should find Abraham Datchett and his partner there. Bid them
come as fast as they can.'

'Yes,
Mr Bale.'

The
nightwatchman hurried off. Littlejohn was still stunned.

'What
shall I do with my men?' he asked blankly. 'They will be coming to the site
very soon, expecting to start work.'

'Send
them back home, sir,' advised Jonathan.

'Work
must be suspended,' agreed Christopher. 'The first thing we must do is to
inform Solomon Creech. He is responsible for all of Sir Ambrose's affairs and
will make decisions on his behalf. Who knows?' he said with forlorn enthusiasm.
'There may yet be some way in which the house can be built. Sir Ambrose's
family may take on the responsibility themselves.'

'Is
that likely, Mr Redmayne?' asked Littlejohn with a sigh. 'Sir Ambrose was
killed here. The property will hardly hold fond memories for his family. We
have lost everything.'

'Not
necessarily.'

'The
project is doomed.'

Christopher
tried to console him but his words sounded hollow. In his heart, he shared the
builder's pessimism. Construction had to be abandoned. There seemed to be no
chance of it ever being resumed. In a city where so much rebuilding was taking
place, Samuel Littlejohn would soon find alternative work for himself and his
men but Christopher might not. His one venture into architecture had
foundered.

Preoccupied
with the business implications, Littlejohn also spared a thought for a member
of his family. There was real pain in his voice.

'What
will become of Margaret?' he asked.

'Your
daughter will be upset at the turn of events.'

'She
will be distraught, Mr Redmayne.'

'Was
she fond of Sir Ambrose?'

'It
is not his death which will hurt her the most,' said Littlejohn. 'It is the
consequences. If we stop work on the house, how will Margaret see you? That is
why she came to here so often.'

'I
see.'