Henry was better left to his fantasies.
'I feel that we have an important clue in our hands,' said Christopher. 'All that we have to do is to identify the woman and it was not, I'm certain, Lady Holcroft. Think of the letter 'M'. Find me a wife called Mary, Margaret or Mildred.'
'I know of none, Christopher.'
'Rack your brains.'
'They have already been racked too hard.'
'Which of your friends has a wife called Maria?'
'None of them,' said Henry. He thought hard. 'But I know a Miriam,' he recalled.
'Is she young and beautiful?'
'Very young and exceedingly beautiful.'
'Yet she's a married lady?' Henry nodded. 'Excellent. Who is her husband?'
'Sir Humphrey Godden.'
Jonathan Bale was rarely excited. His was a more phlegmatic temperament. When he made his discovery at the fencing master's lodging, however, he was thrilled. He walked back to the house in Fetter Lane to report his findings. Christopher Redmayne was not there but Jacob introduced him to the Dean of Gloucester instead. Jonathan received warm congratulation and stern reproof at the same time. While the old man thanked him for his courage in tackling Henry's would-be assassin, he also felt obliged to attest the spiritual superiority of the Anglican Church and to condemn those who dared to question the validity of its tenets. The constable weathered the storm with some difficulty and was glad when the Dean retired to his bedchamber with his Bible.
Christopher arrived back soon afterwards. Jonathan could see that he, too, was in a state of excitement. The architect explained why. Though highly uncomfortable, the talk with Pietro Maldini had been very worthwhile. Christopher felt that a significant connection had been made.
'If that jewellery was intended for Sir Humphrey Godden's wife, we have a motive for murder,' he argued. 'Sir Humphrey must have learned of his wife's infidelity and sought revenge. He engaged the false Captain Harvest as his accomplice.'
'What shall we do, Mr Redmayne?'
'Challenge him at once.'
'Wait until you've heard my news,' said Jonathan, taking the ledger and the papers from under his arm. 'We are dealing with far more than a case of murder, sir.' He handed a sheet of paper to Christopher. 'Do you recognise any of those names?'
Christopher was jolted when he saw that the first name on the list was that of Sir Peregrine Whitcombe. Beneath that was the name of Sir Ralph Holcroft. Of the other seven on the list, he recognised most as senior members of the government. He reached the same conclusion as Jonathan.
'Signor Maldini was a spy,' he declared, remembering what Lady Holcroft had told him. 'He deliberately courted ladies who were married to leading politicians. While he was pleasuring them, he was also asking them about their husbands.' An image of Lady Whitcombe came into his mind. 'Yet I cannot think he was involved in that way with Sir Peregrine's wife.'
'He did not need to be,' said Jonathan, giving him some letters. 'His was the one name that I knew because Jacob told me you were designing a house for his widow. As you see, Sir Peregrine is number one. That means he wrote those letters.'
Christopher leafed through them, staggered by what he saw. Information about the country's naval and military defences was set out in neat columns. There were also reports of meetings of the Privy Council. His head reeled. He was being employed by a woman whose late husband had betrayed his country.
'Sir Peregrine was paid for his intelligence,' said Jonathan, holding the ledger up. 'Here's proof of it. Payments to number one are listed at the back. The man was a traitor, Mr Redmayne. He died before he could be caught.'
'We cannot pursue him beyond the grave,' said Christopher.
'And I'm certain that Lady Whitcombe knew nothing of this. She'd not be so proud of her husband's reputation if she had.' He took the ledger from Jonathan. 'Well, you've opened a door to Hell with this discovery. Did someone find out that Signor Maldini was a spy?' he wondered. 'Is that why he was killed?'
'It could be, Mr Redmayne.'
'How was he unmasked? No wife would dare to admit to her husband that she had been seduced by a foreign spy. That's why the arrangement was so clever.'
Jonathan gave a disapproving frown. 'I see nothing clever in seduction, sir.'
'When he had found out what he wanted to know, he abandoned one lady and moved on to the next. He knew that none of them would ever betray him. Although,' he added, as the words of Pietro Maldini came back to him, 'that's what happened to him in the end. A certain lady betrayed the spy by making him fall in love with her.'
'She wrote these letters,' said Jonathan, handing over the last two items he had found in the desk. 'I felt embarrassed at reading them.'
'Why?'
'They are very fulsome, Mr Redmayne.'
'Are they signed?'
'Only with an initial - 'M” '.
'That stands for Lady Miriam Godden,' said Christopher, glancing through the first letter, 'and there's no doubt that she loved Signor Maldini, or she'd not have been so indiscreet as to write to him. If her husband learned about this secret romance, he'd have been enraged.'
'It would certainly have given him a reason to go after Signor Maldini's blood.'
'Let's go and speak to him, Jonathan,' said Christopher, pocketing the two letters. 'I've a strong feeling that Sir Humphrey Godden is our man.'
Sir Humphrey Godden was grateful that his wife was not at home. It made it much easier to smuggle his unwanted guest into the house. At the top of the building was a small room that was used for storage. When he had stabled his horse, the former Captain Harvest was hustled upstairs to the room by his reluctant host.
'You're to stay here and keep quiet,' ordered Sir Humphrey.
'There's no mattress,' complained the other.
'One of the servants will soon bring one. He'll also bring you food and drink.'
'A manservant, eh?' said the other with a chuckle. 'I'd prefer to be looked after by a buxom chambermaid. It may get lonely up here.'
'You'll get a hiding place and nothing else.' Sir Humphrey looked at him. 'By the way, I still have no idea what your real name is.'
'I'd prefer to keep it that way. See me as an anonymous friend.'
Sir Humphrey was about to make a tart riposte but thought better of it. After issuing further warnings, he left the room. His guest immediately began to rearrange his accommodation, shifting some wooden boxes into a corner and stacking some bolts of material on top of them. The servant arrived with a mattress and placed it against a wall. He stayed long enough to light a fire in the grate then withdrew to fetch some blankets. The erstwhile Captain Harvest took stock of his surroundings. When the fire had warmed the room up, it would be snug. More important, his refuge would be safe. While he was being looked for in the more insalubrious parts of the city, he was enjoying the hospitality of a house in the heart of Covent Garden. He grinned at his good fortune.
Crossing to the window, he looked down into the street and watched the traffic go past. The grin then froze on his face. Two figures were walking purposefully towards the house. He could not believe that Christopher Redmayne and Jonathan Bale had tracked him so soon to his new lair. He had to get away at once.
They stopped well short of the house so that they could appraise it. Christopher was armed with sword and dagger but Jonathan carried no weapon, relying instead on his strength and experience. Both were alert to the potential danger of accosting a man whom they believed had committed a murder.
'When I confront him,' said Christopher, 'he may try to make a run for it. Go round to the back of the house, Jonathan, to cut off his escape.'
'Give me time to get into position, Mr Redmayne.'
'I will.'
