The King's Evil

Chapter Seven

Jonathan Bale did not flinch. He had looked on death too many times for it to hold any shock or surprise for him. His lantern threw a much more searching light over the corpse, enabling Christopher to see details which had been concealed from him earlier. When he tried to look closer, the constable waved him back with an arm.

'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.