'What of your news?'
'I got to the morgue just in time to stop them arranging a burial. The body will be held until a family member can identify and reclaim it. If Gabriel Cheever is a resident of Knightrider Street, he should be buried in the cemetery of the parish church.'
'That is something for his family to decide.'
'I thought that he had broken with them.'
'Not all of them, Mr Bale.'
'Oh.'
'Leave the family to me,' said Christopher. 'Sir Julius has a married daughter who lives in Richmond. He gave me her address. I plan to ride there first thing in the morning to break the news to her and to find out when her father is expected.'
'Would you like me to come with you, Mr Redmayne?'
Christopher smiled. 'No, thank you. But it's a kind offer, particularly when it comes from a man who hates riding as much as you do.'
'Nature did not intend me to sit astride a horse.'
'You prefer to keep your feet on the ground, Mr Bale. In every sense.'
'What can I do in the meantime?'
'Speak to some of the people on this list that Henry gave me,' said Christopher, taking it from his pocket. 'Start with Arthur Lunn. He was closer to Gabriel Cheever than anyone. See what he can tell you about the dead man.'
'How will I find the gentleman?'
'At his favourite coffee house. Sir Marcus Kemp may be there as well. He was the man who claimed to have seen Cheever in Knightrider Street. Between the two of them, they should be able to give you much more information about him.'
'And this… other matter?' asked Jonathan discreetly.
Christopher was decisive. 'Make no mention of it, Mr Bale. Keep my brother's name out of it at this stage. It will be enough for them to know that a friend of theirs has been murdered. That will secure their interest.'
'Arthur Lunn and Sir Marcus Kemp.'
'Both amiable fellows but neither destined for sainthood.'
'I had already decided that,' said Jonathan seriously. 'Well, I'll speak to them at their coffee house and see what I can learn. What of you, Mr Redmayne?'
'The person I intend to meet does not appear on this list.'
'Why not?'
'Because she is not one of my brother's inner circle,' explained Christopher. 'But she may be able to tell me things about Gabriel Cheever that nobody else knows.'
'Who is the lady?'
'Miss Celia Hemmings.'
Chapter Six
Sir Julius Cheever set out for London earlier than planned. Having made the decision to go, he saw no reason for delay and he took his younger daughter with him for company Susan could read his moods with great accuracy. She knew when to talk, when to listen and most important of all, when to do neither. If he drifted off into a reverie, Sir Julius did not like to be interrupted and she had thoughts of her own in which to lose herself for long periods. Their coach rocked its way noisily over a track hardened by the hot sunshine. Sleep was out of the question but they learned to adjust their bodies to the jolting rhythm and that brought some comfort. They made good speed. Susan judged the moment to break the silence.
'We should have ridden there,' she said.
'Why sit on two horses when we can be pulled by four?'
'Because we would have travelled more quickly, Father.'
'Only if we had found enough companions to ensure safety on the journey. Besides,' argued Sir Julius with rough-hewn gallantry, 'I could not ask a delicate young lady like yourself to spend two whole days in the saddle.'
Susan was firm. 'I am not delicate and I love riding. Nothing would have pleased me more than to make the entire journey on horseback.'
'And arrive at Serle Court covered in dirt and perspiration?'
'Travel always imposes penalties.'
'Then the sensible thing is to lessen their number, Susan. Take your ease,' he advised. 'As much as this coach allows you to, that is. We've kept up a steady pace so far. When we arrive in Richmond tomorrow, we'll be fresh and unsullied.'
'Apart from the occasional bruise,' she added with a smile.
'You would insist on coming with me.'
'I wanted to see Brilliana.'
Sir Julius snorted. 'You'd hardly be subjecting yourself to this in order to see your brother-in-law. Why, in God's name, did she have to wed that drooling imbecile?'
'Lancelot is an intelligent man,' she said loyally.
'Then he has a wonderful gift for disguising that intelligence.'
'Don't mock him, Father.'
'The fellow is so irredeemably fatuous.'
'Brilliana chose him and for her sake, we must learn to love him.'
'Love him?' exploded Sir Julius. 'What is there to love?'
Susan was tactful. 'You'll have to ask my sister that.'
'Brilliana long ago abandoned the pretence that she actually loved that booby. She married him for his house and his wealth. Not that I quibble with that,' he said, lifting a palm. 'Those are perfectly sound reasons for a young lady to wed but not if it means enslaving yourself to a fool like Lancelot Serle.'
'I don't think that anyone would enslave Brilliana,' observed Susan tartly.
'No, she takes after me.'
'We all do, Father.' He shot her a warning glance and she regretted having included her brother in the reference. 'Well, perhaps not all.'
One of the wheels suddenly explored a deep pothole and the whole coach lurched over to the right. The occupants reached out to steady themselves, and Sir Julius thrust his head through the window to berate the driver.
'Watch where you're going, man!'
'I'm sorry, Sir Julius,' replied the other. 'I didn't see it until it was too late.'
'Are you blind?'
'I'll be more careful from now on.'
Sir Julius lapsed back into his seat with a thud. Susan watched him for a moment.
'Father,' she said at length, 'what do you hope to achieve in Parliament?'
'I mean to introduce a measure of sanity.'
'Can one man exert any real influence there?'
'The Lord Protector did,' he said proudly.
'Times have changed since then,' she pointed out.
'More's the pity!'
Susan was worried. 'You will be circumspect?'
'Circumspect?' he repeated with disgust.
