had fled from the scene as a result. The goldsmith was very interested in the news but he was not entirely surprised.
'We all knew that James was a rogue of sorts,' he said blandly, 'but he could be such amiable company that it did not seem to mind. And there was no doubting his skill with a sword. We took his word that he'd learned that on the battlefield. Yet now, you tell me, he was not even a soldier.'
'Mr Bale was.'
'I see.'
'He fought at Worcester. He pointed out that there's no place in battle for any refinements of the art of fencing. It's all slash, cut and thrust. You've no time to make use of the eight positions from which to attack or parry that are taught in a fencing school. Strength and speed of action are the qualities needed.'
'I obviously misjudged your friend, the constable.'
'Many people do. You told him that Captain Harvest - to give him the name that he used - might conceivably have been the killer.'
'I begin to think it even more likely now.'
'So do I, Mr Crenlowe. He may have made an attempt on my life as well.'
'Never!'
When he heard about the attack on the riverbank, Crenlowe became alarmed. He needed some time to absorb the implications of what he had been told. Eventually, he pointed a knowing finger at his visitor.
'This is proof positive that Henry is innocent,' he declared.
'That's what I believe.'
'James must be arrested at once.'
'Unfortunately, he's disappeared.'
'Then he must be hunted down, Mr Redmayne.' He shook his head with disgust. 'To think how easily he took us all in! Mark you,' he went on, 'we only ever saw him in convivial surroundings. When drink is taken, one is apt to be far less discriminating. And we did imbibe a great deal. I confess to that fault readily.
James duped us. He knew exactly how to win our confidence.' He moved across to Christopher. 'Have you told your brother about this?'
'Not yet, Mr Crenlowe.'
'It will gladden his heart.'
'Henry is still trying to recover from our father's visit.'
'Yes, he lives in dread of him. He's often spoken to us about the fearsome Dean.'
'Father is only fearsome to those with a guilty conscience,' said Christopher, 'and Henry has had that for years. But there's something else on which I'd like your opinion,' he went on, measuring his words carefully. 'Captain Harvest claimed that the root of the dissension between Henry and Signor Maldini was their mutual interest in a certain lady.'
'Did he say who the lady was?'
'No,' replied Christopher, careful to divulge no further detail. 'Were you aware that my brother had conceived a passion for someone?'
'It's happened too often for us to pay much attention to it.'
'This was patently a more serious involvement.'
'Then Henry was discreet for once,' said Crenlowe, 'for I was unaware of it. And since we know that James was a practised liar, he might well have invented the whole thing in order to give your brother a stronger motive to commit murder. What does Henry himself say?'
'He denies such a lady even existed.'
'There's your answer, then. Disregard the suggestion.'
Christopher was glad that he had not mentioned the name of Patience Holcroft. The goldsmith clearly had no knowledge of her link with the murder victim and the man arrested for the crime. He was confident that Sir Humphrey Godden knew nothing of it either. Evidently, Henry Redmayne had shown uncharacteristic discretion in his dealings with the lady. That only confirmed the strength of his feeling for her.
'Thank you for your help, Mr Crenlowe,' he said. 'I'm glad that I came.'
'So am I, so am I. These tidings about James are very distressing.'
'Have you any idea where we might find him?'
'No, Mr Redmayne,' said the other. 'He had a habit of finding us.
I've no idea where the man lodged even. James would just appear when he chose to.'
'He boasted to me that he liked to cover his tracks.'
'He'll have even more need to do that now.'
'Exactly,' said Christopher. 'Since he can no longer swagger as Captain Harvest, he'll have to find another disguise. My fear is that he might flee London altogether but he'd need money to do that. Where would he go to find it?'
Crenlowe was stern. 'Not here,' he said, 'I can promise you that. I made it crystal clear to James that I'd loaned him money for the last time.'
'What about Sir Humphrey Godden?'
'He'd be less likely to expect repayment.'
'Why is that?'
'Sir Humphrey has more money than he needs, Mr Redmayne. He inherited his wealth. I, as you see, have to accumulate mine with the skills I've acquired in my trade. It makes me less willing to advance a loan unless I know that it will be duly repaid. James would never turn to me again.'
'Where would he turn?'
'I could give you half-a-dozen names,' said Crenlowe, 'but the main one has already been mentioned. He'd almost certainly go first to Sir Humphrey Godden.'
Jonathan Bale was even less welcome at the address in Covent Garden than he had been at the coffee house. He was kept standing in the draughty hall for fifteen minutes before Sir Humphrey Godden even deigned to acknowledge his presence. When he finally made an appearance, the man was an unfriendly host.
'Will you stop hounding me, Mr Bale?' he demanded.
'I needed to speak to you again, Sir Humphrey.'
'Well, I've no wish to speak to you. And neither has Martin Crenlowe, for that matter. We are both certain of Henry Redmayne's innocence so we'll have no dealings with someone who is intent on securing his conviction.'
'My only intention is to see that justice is done,' said Jonathan.
'Your kind of justice, based on ignorance and prejudice.'
'You are hardly free from prejudice yourself, Sir Humphrey.'
'What do you mean?' 'I was thinking about your opinion of foreigners.'
'It's shared by every right-thinking Englishman. Foreigners are inferior to us.'
'I can see that you have a degree of ignorance as well.'
'Beware, sir!' growled the other, squaring his shoulders aggressively. 'I'll not be insulted in my own home. Nor will I be cross- examined by a parish constable who does not understand the meaning of respect. I bid you farewell.'
'Are you not interested in the news that I bring you?'
'Not in the slightest.'
'Then I'll leave you to the mercy of Captain Harvest,' said Jonathan, heading for the door. 'You obviously have no wish to learn the truth about him.'
Sir Humphrey was jolted. 'Wait!' he said. 'What's this about James?'
'I only came here as a favour to pass on the warning.'
'Warning?'
Jonathan opened the front door. 'Good day, Sir Humphrey.'
'Hold on a moment!' ordered the other, crossing swiftly over to him. 'If there's something that I should know, let's hear it.' He closed the door again. 'Now, Mr Bale. What really brought you to my house today?'
'My sense of duty, sir. I felt impelled to tell you what I discovered.'
Jonathan's description of his encounter with Captain Harvest was slow and rather ponderous. Sir
