the occasion of the King's birthday, the sixth of June. Apparently Sir Edward Kemble, according to ancient custom, allowed them to use chambers in the royal apartments. The hangmen brought their ladies, or should I say women of the town?'
'You were not there?' I asked innocently.
'Of course not!' she snapped. 'My husband told me about all the goings-on ... when he returned,' she added primly.
‘Your husband was a carpenter?' I asked. ‘He was a literate man? He could write and keep accounts?'
'Oh, of course, sir.' She rose and went across to a chest standing beneath the crucifix. She opened it and brought back a ledger. 'He sometimes sold what he made in the markets. He kept scrupulous accounts.'
I opened the ledger and showed it to Benjamin. He stared at the beautiful copperplate handwriting and smiled.
'Madam,' my master rose and handed the ledger back. 'I thank you for your time in answering our questions honestly. You have nothing further to say?'
'No.'
She darted a smile at me: I quietly wondered whether it would be appropriate for me to visit her by myself.
My master continued. 'Naturally we must make further inquiries of Master Thurgood the goldsmith about this mysterious donor. Perhaps a letter from you?'
Mistress Undershaft nodded and left the room. I wanted to draw Benjamin into hushed conversation, but he shook his head. We waited silently until Mistress Undershaft returned and gave him a square of vellum neatly’ tied with a piece of silk ribbon. We made our farewells and left. We walked across the green and back up the alleyway leading to the Tower.
Half-way along, Benjamin stopped and undid the letter. The writing was not as elegant as her late husband's, yet Mistress Undershaft had a good hand for someone who, perhaps, had not been properly tutored. The letters were boldly formed: she simply informed the goldsmith that he should answer any questions the bearer might ask about her mysterious legacy.
What did you think of her?' Benjamin asked.
'Shrewd,' Agrippa retorted.
'A good actress,' I added. I narrowed my eyes and stared further down the alleyway. 'I don't wish to be cruel, but on the one hand she mourns her husband, yet on the other there is something else. Is it possible that Master Undershaft is not dead? That he killed someone else to take his place and is continuing to send silver to his wife whilst he hides in the city and blackmails the King?
Benjamin nodded. 'It is true we have no proof that her husband was definitely killed. Undershaft was an educated man, skilled with his hands. He might find the art of forgery an easy accomplishment. His wife could well be party to it.' Benjamin tapped the parchment. 'But that still leaves as many questions as it answers. How was the letter delivered by Undershaft if the Tower was sealed?'
'An accomplice?' I asked.
"Possible,' Benjamin replied, 'but how would they communicate?'
'We have still to study Spurge's maps,' I replied. ‘Undershaft could still be alive and the villain of the piece. He might have written that letter before he left the Tower and given it to his accomplice to deliver when the fortress was closed and shuttered. He could then have arranged for the proclamations to be posted after falsifying his own death.'
‘I agree,' Agrippa declared. Whilst the other hangman, Hellbane, could have been murdered because he knew something? Mistress Undershaft is not what she appears to be, I can see that: her grief is not as deep as it should be. No one identified that corpse as her husband's. We also learnt that Master Undershaft had little liking for Sir Edward Kemble. Moreover, if Undershaft is supposed to be dead, then that's the best disguise, if you are sending letters of blackmail against the King and leaving them at Westminster or elsewhere. But who the accomplice is and how they communicate is a mystery. And those seals, Roger, are no forgeries. In truth they once belonged to Edward the Fifth. If your theory is correct, how did
'You were not there?' I asked innocently.
'Of course not!' she snapped. 'My husband told me about all the goings-on ... when he returned,' she added primly.
‘Your husband was a carpenter?' I asked. ‘He was a literate man? He could write and keep accounts?'
'Oh, of course, sir.' She rose and went across to a chest standing beneath the crucifix. She opened it and brought back a ledger. 'He sometimes sold what he made in the markets. He kept scrupulous accounts.'
I opened the ledger and showed it to Benjamin. He stared at the beautiful copperplate handwriting and smiled.
'Madam,' my master rose and handed the ledger back. 'I thank you for your time in answering our questions honestly. You have nothing further to say?'
'No.'
She darted a smile at me: I quietly wondered whether it would be appropriate for me to visit her by myself.
My master continued. 'Naturally we must make further inquiries of Master Thurgood the goldsmith about this mysterious donor. Perhaps a letter from you?'
Mistress Undershaft nodded and left the room. I wanted to draw Benjamin into hushed conversation, but he shook his head. We waited silently until Mistress Undershaft returned and gave him a square of vellum neatly’ tied with a piece of silk ribbon. We made our farewells and left. We walked across the green and back up the alleyway leading to the Tower.
Half-way along, Benjamin stopped and undid the letter. The writing was not as elegant as her late husband's, yet Mistress Undershaft had a good hand for someone who, perhaps, had not been properly tutored. The letters were boldly formed: she simply informed the goldsmith that he should answer any questions the bearer might ask about her mysterious legacy.
What did you think of her?' Benjamin asked.
'Shrewd,' Agrippa retorted.
'A good actress,' I added. I narrowed my eyes and stared further down the alleyway. 'I don't wish to be cruel, but on the one hand she mourns her husband, yet on the other there is something else. Is it possible that Master Undershaft is not dead? That he killed someone else to take his place and is continuing to send silver to his wife whilst he hides in the city and blackmails the King?
Benjamin nodded. 'It is true we have no proof that her husband was definitely killed. Undershaft was an educated man, skilled with his hands. He might find the art of forgery an easy accomplishment. His wife could well be party to it.' Benjamin tapped the parchment. 'But that still leaves as many questions as it answers. How was the letter delivered by Undershaft if the Tower was sealed?'
'An accomplice?' I asked.
"Possible,' Benjamin replied, 'but how would they communicate?'
'We have still to study Spurge's maps,' I replied. ‘Undershaft could still be alive and the villain of the piece. He might have written that letter before he left the Tower and given it to his accomplice to deliver when the fortress was closed and shuttered. He could then have arranged for the proclamations to be posted after falsifying his own death.'
‘I agree,' Agrippa declared. Whilst the other hangman, Hellbane, could have been murdered because he knew something? Mistress Undershaft is not what she appears to be, I can see that: her grief is not as deep as it should be. No one identified that corpse as her husband's. We also learnt that Master Undershaft had little liking for Sir Edward Kemble. Moreover, if Undershaft is supposed to be dead, then that's the best disguise, if you are sending letters of blackmail against the King and leaving them at Westminster or elsewhere. But who the accomplice is and how they communicate is a mystery. And those seals, Roger, are no forgeries. In truth they once belonged to Edward the Fifth. If your theory is correct, how did
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