Day of Deliverance by Johnny O'Brien Page B

tea and a deep breath. “Yes. Your friend Marlowe doesn’t just write plays. He has some unusual, and dangerous, friends. He also has an addiction to risk-taking… and money. He seems to have got himself into a position where he is what we would call a double agent. He works for the English state, and also for the Spanish state. Not a particularly comfortable position to be in as the two countries are virtually at war. But he thinks he’s cleverer than both.”
    “Those people who chased us last night, they were Spanish?”
    “Correct, Jack. Marlowe is involved in a Spanish plot against the English state. Those men are Spanish agents who are working with Marlowe. Marlowe has all sorts of connections among the aristocracy and the court – he is a useful asset. The Spanish are known to us and we have inveigled our way into their trust. Recently, however, Marlowe has also come to the attention of Sir Francis Walsingham – Secretary of State.”
    “The founder of England’s first secret service,” Gift added.
    “The Spaniards have been keeping a close eye on Marlowe and saw you accompany him to his rooms. They were suspicious that you might be after him. They may even have thought you were also working for Walsingham. In order to save himself, we understand that Marlowe told the Spaniards that you had threatened him and searched his apartment. He said you had panicked when the Spaniards arrived, and that you then escaped with knowledge of the plot to take to Walsingham in London.”
    “And they believed that?”
    “Marlowe got away with it – he is no fool – and the Spanish will have him safe and secure by now. He betrayed you, but you’ve been very lucky. Once we became aware of your situation, we were able to distract the Spaniards sufficiently to pick you up.”
    Fanshawe muttered bitterly, “If I ever see that Marlowe again, I’ll…”
    Jack interrupted. “So, how do you know these Spaniards?What do you mean they trust you? And how did you find us… rescue us?”
    Whitsun glanced nervously at Fanshawe and Trinculo. “A little too much information, for just now, Jack. However, we are going to take you somewhere safe – to someone who can answer all your questions.”
    “Who?” Angus said.
    “Dr Pendelshape, of course.”
    Jack’s heart skipped a beat when he heard the name.
    “But first, we need to know, did Marlowe give you anything before he left?”
    Fanshawe looked nervously at Jack. Jack nodded. “Tell them, Harry.”
    “A letter. I swore on my life not to open it. He also gave us money for our services to take it to Walsingham,” Fanshawe replied.
    “Perfect. If you can hand us the letter, please.”
    Fanshawe hesitated.
    Whitsun insisted, an undercurrent of menace in his voice. “Please.”
    Fanshawe reached into an inside pocket and handed the letter to Whitsun who whisked it from him. “Very good. We certainly don’t want this getting into the wrong hands. We’ll take a proper look in a minute.”
    Gift got to his feet. “And now I’m afraid we have some rather unpleasant business to see to.” He removed his pistol from inside his cloak and eyed Fanshawe and Trinculo.
    “Jack, Angus, you may want to look away. What we have to do is unfortunate, but necessary.”
    Jack was incredulous. “Hold on, you’re not going to…”
    “Don’t intervene, Jack, these people already know far too much – their knowledge could wreck our plans.”
    As Gift spoke, he was unaware of the odd figure approaching a little way down the track. He was perched up on a donkey and wore a grey hooded cloak – a bit like a friar from amonastery. As he reached the group, he dismounted and led the donkey towards them.
    Whitsun and Gift were distracted, and Gift surreptitiously reholstered his weapon.
    “What now?” he muttered impatiently.
    The figure walked slowly towards them, the hood of his cloak covering his head. He did not reveal his face.
    “What do you want old man?” Gift said.
    “Alms for