“Has there been an accident?”
“I cannot tell, but it may be that you should fetch Doctor Newton.”
So I made myself ready presently and accompanied Mister Hall to the Lion Tower, that was formerly known as the Barbican, which stood outside the main westward entrance to the Tower. It was a bitterly cold night and I was shivering inside my cloak, the more so when I was informed of the dreadful fate that had befallen Mister Kennedy, for it seemed he had been half eaten by a lion in the Tower menagerie. Amid much loud roaring, for the animal had only just been driven back to its cage with pikes and halberds, I entered the Lion Tower, which was most popular with visitors to the Tower since the Restoration. This tower was open to the elements, having no roof, with the animal cages arranged around the perimeter with a large exercise yard in the centre, where I beheld a scene of almost indescribable carnage.
A great deal of blood lay upon the ground so that my shoes were soon sticky with it, and in a corner of the yard was what remained of Mister Kennedy’s body. Although his neck was quite bitten through and his mouth gagged, his face was easily recognisable, if only by the absence of his false nose which lay on the ground nearby, glinting in the bright moonshine like a dragoon’s decorative cuirass. He was badly mauled, with great claw marks on his belly through which his guts were clearly visible, and was missing an arm and part of a leg, although it was no great mystery to whence these had been removed. Several members of the Ordnance were standing about holding pikes while the animal keeper busied himself with bolting the cage to which the murderous lion had now been returned.
One of the warders was known to me, being Sergeant Rohan, and I entreated him that the body might not be moved or the scene much trampled over until my master should have had an opportunity to examine it.
“Rightly, Mister Ellis,” growled the Sergeant, “this is the proper province of the Ordnance, not the Mint. Lions don’t fall within your proper jurisdiction, except when they appear upon a silver crown.”
“True, Sergeant. However, the man who has been killed was employed in the Mint, and his death may very likely have a strong bearing on its business.”
Sergeant Rohan nodded, his big face only part illuminated by the torchlight, so that his mouth was covered by darkness. “Well, that’s as may be. But Lord Lucas will decide the matter. If he can be woken. So I reckon the quicker you can fetch your master here, the better. Let the two of them dispute the matter like a couple of Titans, I say, and we’ll stay out of it, eh?”
I nodded.
“A proper mess, isn’t it?” he continued. “I seen men bayoneted, men blown to bits with cannonade, men cut to pieces with swords, but I never seen a man chewed by lions before. It gives me a new respect for the courage of them early Christian martyrs. To die for Christ facing such beasts as these, why it’s an inspiration. Aye, that’s what it is.”
“Yes, indeed it is,” I said, although I immediately wondered what my master would have said of those early Christians of whom the Romans made such a spectacle in their arenas. Were they also mistaken in Newton’s eyes?
Leaving Sergeant Rohan still contemplating Christian courage, I ran to Tower Street, where I thought to hire a horse from The Dolphin or The King’s Head in order that I might ride to Jermyn Street, for I had no expectation that I might find a hackney coach at that hour. And yet I did find one setting down a passenger at a house opposite the Custom House, and although the driver was reluctant to take me, it being so late and him intent on going home to Stepney, which is in quite the opposite direction, I persuaded him with the promise of his being handsomely rewarded. And within the hour I was back at the Tower in the same hackney with Newton to learn that Lord Lieutenant Lucas was still not come, and it was being reported that he was too drunk, which delighted my master.
After some words with Sergeant Rohan, Newton walked about the menagerie like an architect who was desirous of knowing every inch of the space that was to be considered in his mind’s eye. Presently he asked one of the wardens for a bowl of water and a towel to be brought and, taking off his coat, which he gave to me, rolled up his shirt sleeves, in spite of the cold. Then he fetched some clean straw and knelt beside the body to examine its condition.
First he removed the cloth that had gagged poor Kennedy’s mouth and, searching inside a mess of bloody pulp and broken teeth with his fingers’ ends, Newton found a smooth stone. This he wrapped carefully inside his handkerchief which he then handed to me for safekeeping.
“Why would anyone—?” I said, beginning a question that I saw no need to finish framing when I saw Newton’s querulous expression directed at me.
“You know the proper method, Mister Ellis, therefore please abstain from idle queries which do little to assist my examination.”
So saying, Newton turned Kennedy over onto what remained of his belly to examine a cord that was tied around his one surviving wrist.
“Where is the other arm?” he said coldly, as if I myself might have taken it.
“I believe one of the lions still has it, sir.”
Newton nodded silently and then examined Kennedy’s pockets, from which he withdrew several items which he entrusted to me. At last he seemed to have finished, and rinsed his hands in the bowl of water that had been fetched. Finally he stood up and, drying his hands, looked about the menagerie. “Which lion?” he asked.
I pointed across the yard and Newton followed the line of my finger to one of the cages where, under the eyes of the animal keeper and several Tower warders, the lion was still making a quiet feast of Mister Kennedy’s leg. Putting his coat back on, Newton walked over to the cage and, removing a storm lantern from the wall, shone the light into the arched vault behind the bars that was the lion’s abode.
“I can see the leg well enough,” he remarked, “but not the arm.”
The keeper pointed at the back of the vault. “There it is, sir,” he said. “I’m afraid we’ve had no luck recovering either of the unfortunate gentleman’s limbs, sir.”
“‘The slothful man saith, There is a lion in the way,’” murmured Newton.
“Beg pardon, sir?”
“Proverbs, chapter twenty-six, verse thirteen.”
“Exactly so, sir,” said the keeper. “Rex, that’s the name of the lion. He refuses to give them up. Mostly it’s horse meat they eats, the lions. But he’s found a taste for human flesh and no mistake.”
“My eyes are not as keen as they were,” said Newton. “But is that a piece of cord tied around the wrist?”
“It is,” said I.
“Then it was murder all right. Someone brought Mister Kennedy down here, tied his hands, and then released the lion from its cage. How is the door fastened?”
“With those two bolts, sir.”
“No lock and key?”
“These are animals, sir. Not prisoners.” But even as the keeper spoke, the lion looked up from its human feast and roared fiercely at us, as if it might have disputed that remark. It was a fearsome-looking beast, a big male with mighty fangs, and its fur and great mane now much stained with blood.
“Mark well the colour of that lion,” Newton said to me. “It is quite red, is it not?”
At the time I thought this interested him because red was his favourite colour, and it was only later on that he explained how he perceived the significance of the red lion.
“Who found the body?” he asked.
“I did, sir,” said the keeper, whose posture was that of a man whose head was permanently bowed in prayer, so that Newton addressed all his questions to the man’s shiny pate. “I sleep with the Ordnance, sir. In the Tower barracks. I put the key there as usual, at about eight o’clock, sir. I went out of the Tower to a local tavern, sir, as is my wont, for I don’t much like The Stone Kitchen. Then to bed. I awoke to hear the animals roaring when they should have been asleep. And thinking that something was amiss with them, I came to take a look and found the bloody mess you see now, sir.”
“The door to the Lion Tower, Mister Wadsworth. Is it locked at night?”
“Aye, sir. Always. The key hangs in the guardroom at the Byward Tower. Except tonight. When I went to fetch it, the key was gone. I thought someone else had gone ahead of me to investigate the commotion. But I was the first to get here, and I found the key in the door, and the door locked.”
