The Murder in the Tower: The Story of Frances, Countess of Essex

“Thank you,” said Winwood. “You have been of great help to me.”

“If there is anything else I can do …”

“There will be, I have no doubt. I am very grateful.”

Helwys watched his visitor depart, assured that what he had feared would be a dangerous interview had turned out very well for him.

Winwood took barge from the Tower to Whitehall. He felt exultant. Somerset and his Countess! And it fitted so well. Overbury and Somerset had worked closely together. Overbury would be in possession of secrets which Somerset would not want betrayed. They had fallen out. Oh, there was no absence of motive.

What could this mean? The end of Somerset? The end of the Spanish policy? No Spanish Infanta for the Prince of Wales? In his hands he held the key to the future.

He would go straight to the King.

But he must be careful. James was enamored of young Villiers, but he was a faithful man and Somerset was still his beloved friend, for James did not cast off old friends when new ones appeared.

The King must not yet know how far this had gone; he must not know yet that the name of Somerset had been mentioned. That must not come out until it was too late to withdraw.

James received him at once and he told the King that he was greatly disturbed by the confession of Sir Gervase Helwys.

“I think, Your Majesty, that there can be no doubt that Sir Thomas Overbury was murdered.”

James was grave. He felt a twinge of conscience because he had sent Overbury to the Tower for such a small offense. The least he could do now was to avenge his death.

“Let Helwys write down all he knows of this matter,” he said, “and when he has done so bring what he has written to me. We shall then see how to act.”

Sir Gervase, eager now to work in the cause of justice and at the same time save himself, wrote an account of what he remembered; he told of the occasion when he had intercepted Weston with the poison; he told that Weston had admitted to him how Overbury’s death had been brought about by the clyster and that the boy who had poisoned the clyster had been paid twenty pounds. He mentioned that a few weeks ago Mrs. Anne Turner had asked Weston to meet her in an inn and there warned him that investigations were about to begin.

When James read this he was very perplexed. He knew that Mrs. Turner was in the service of the Countess of Somerset. But he did not for one moment believe that Robert could be involved in murder; and he saw no reason why his countess should be.

Winwood was watching him intently.

There must be justice in the realm, thought James. We cannot afford such a scandal at this time—and scandal there would be if it were believed Overbury were murdered and nothing done in the matter.

“We must unravel this mystery,” said James. “I will summon the Lord Chief Justice without delay and will put the matter into his hands.”

It could not be better! thought Winwood. Stern old Sir Edward Coke would never allow any consideration to stand in the way of justice.

The end of Somerset! prophesied Winwood secretly. The end of the Spanish menace!

Sir Edward Coke went to work with enthusiasm. His first act was to arrest Weston and put him through an intensive cross examination. Unaware of all that had been discovered Weston at first attempted to lie, but he was soon trapped, and seeing himself caught, betrayed everyone.

The names came tumbling out: Dr. Forman, Franklin, Gresham; Mrs. Anne Turner, Sir Gervase Helwys, and behind it all the late Earl of Northampton and the Countess of Somerset.

Frances, aware that terrible revelation was at hand, did not stir from her apartments. She made the excuse that her pregnancy was responsible for her state of health; but when the news was brought to her that Mrs. Anne Turner had been arrested she broke down, and Robert found her lying on her bed so unnerved that he realized she had some fearful secret on her mind.

She knew that she could no longer hope to keep the whole story from him. Sir Gervase Helwys was now being questioned; Franklin had been taken up; soon she knew, the Lord Chief Justice would be pointing to her.

“Robert,” she said, “I am terribly afraid.”

He looked at her steadily. “Is it anything to do with Overbury?”

She nodded.

“They are saying he was poisoned,” went on Robert.

“I know.”

“You mean you know that he was poisoned?”

“I know that too,” she answered.

Horrible understanding was coming to Robert. He whispered: “You?”

She only looked at him, but he knew the answer.

“Mrs. Turner … Weston … Monson … Helwys …” Robert enumerated them.

“I used them all.”