‘I do not want time away, Sir Robert.’
‘Leave the powder inquiry to Francis Mills.’
‘Mills, Sir Robert? Forgive me for speaking plain, but he was supposed to be looking after the Morley connection. Now Morley is dead and silenced.’
‘I received your message about that, John.’
‘Did Mills get the name of the powderman from him?’
‘He got nowhere with him. He had returned to me to request authority for the use of other methods of interrogation…’
‘Torture.’
‘I did not permit it.’
‘But Morley was scared enough that he took his own life. Or did someone else take it for him?’
‘John, that is enough on the subject. There is movement in the powder inquiry. The miller at Bromley-by-Bow has disappeared. A great deal of powder has been misappropriated. I think you can leave this to Francis Mills, your man Cooper and the men from the Royal Armoury. I understand your personal involvement, but there is more vital work for you.’
‘Is Boltfoot returned then?’
‘No, but Mr Sarjent has reported. I am told he and Boltfoot had a disagreement. Sarjent sports a broken nose.’
‘Well, why is Boltfoot not here?’
Cecil gave a brief shrug of the shoulders. ‘He will turn up in his own time, as always.’
Shakespeare said nothing. He did not like the sound of this.
Cecil changed the subject. ‘Let us talk of Perez and the supposed son of Mary of Scots. Do you believe this Dona Ana?’
‘I would believe very little she said, but I did not hear it from her. Everything I told you yesterday came from the old nun’s own mouth. I have no doubt that she believed every word she spoke. She was sound of mind and knew exactly what she said.’
‘So James the Sixth of Scotland has a younger brother.’
‘Yes.’
‘A younger brother brought up as a Catholic, with the full weight of Spain and the Vatican behind him.’
‘Again, yes.’
‘And you believe he is here in England?’
‘That is what I am told.’
‘Then where is he?’
‘I think Perez must know. Or Cabral.’
‘Perez knew Cabral was taking you to hear this nun’s story. He obviously expects you to return with a large quantity of gold in return for the other half of the information we require: the man’s whereabouts. You must go back to them.’
‘Do you not think the time has come to bring Perez here to you?’
Cecil sipped at a small beaker of ale. ‘Yes, John, I think you are right. Bring him to me. Tell him his demands will be met and that he will be received at court as an honoured guest. I shall talk to Carey and Heneage to make the arrangements. In the meantime, no word is to get out concerning this lost son of the Scots devil. We must not give the story credence.’
Shakespeare understood. The government would never acknowledge such a prince, for if the story came to be heard outside these walls, there would be many Catholics, both in England and Scotland, who would seize on the young pretender as a figurehead for their cause. And there was one other thing…
‘Sir Robert, I believe that there must also be an implicit danger to King James. His marriage remains barren after more than three years. That means this prince, this brother, will be seen as undisputed heir to his throne — and the Spanish will do all in their power to make him king. Philip of Spain has stooped to assassination many times before. Will he not do so again?’
‘I have already sent a messenger to Edinburgh with word of this. The Scots embassy here in London is informed and will cooperate with us. James must be protected at all costs, for I believe him to be the future of England as well as Scotland. My father and I consider him to be the Queen’s heir apparent.’
Chapter 18
The girl slept in a plain cot at the ancient Hospital of St Bartholomew. Shakespeare and Sluyterman stood at her bedside watching her. Her fair hair was no longer in plaits, but loose and crinkled, splayed across the pillow. Shakespeare noted the wooden splints strapped tight to her right arm and left leg and the bandages that swathed most of her tall, slender body. Her face had a few scratches but otherwise was mercifully unscathed. The nursing sister stood at the end of the bed in her crisp starched wimple, long apron and smock of white linen.
‘Wake her, please. I must talk with her briefly,’ Shakespeare said.
The nurse gently shook the girl’s shoulders. She stirred but did not wake.
‘You must wake her.’
She shook her again, more firmly, and the girl’s eyes opened. They were full of fear.
‘Explain what we need, Mr Sluyterman.’
Sluyterman nodded, then smiled at the girl reassuringly. He spoke to her in Dutch and she screwed up her eyes and said a few words in a loud voice. The Dutchman turned back to Shakespeare. ‘I told Susanna that we must ask her a few questions, but I fear it will be very difficult. The gunpowder blast has deafened her.’
‘Can she hear anything?’
‘A little. Let us try. What do you wish to know?’
‘What she saw before the gunpowder blast.’
Sluyterman said a few more words in Dutch, his voice even louder and deliberately precise. She looked at him as though trying to read the words from his lips. She nodded and spoke back to him.
‘She says she saw two men behind the cheese stall. She says she was watching them, for they had a most curious aspect. They had a small wagon or cart, which they parked. It had casks in it. They then did something at the back of the cart, before walking away, laughing.’
‘Can she describe these two men?’
‘She says they looked like working men, with caps close-fitted about their heads and brows. She was surprised, though, by their attire, for she thought the taller of the two had the aspect of a gentleman.’ The Dutch merchant questioned the girl again, then turned back to Shakespeare. ‘The other one was shorter with strange amber eyes that seemed to stare right through her. It was his unusual look that caught her attention and made her take note of the men. Both seemed good-humoured, she said. She watched them walk away as Mistress Shakespeare waited to buy some cheese. And then she recalls nothing.’
‘You said she thought the taller man a gentleman. How was he attired?’
‘She does not recall, except that they wore workmen’s clothes. She only remembers their faces and their caps.’
‘Very well. If she recalls anything else, please get word to me. And rest assured, I have the word of Sir Robert Cecil that she may return to your household when she is well — and remain there. I must away, Mr Sluyterman.’
The shutters were closed at Gaynes Park Hall as Shakespeare trotted up to the house on his grey mare. No guards came out to search him or take away his weapons. He dismounted and rapped his knuckles on the front door.
The retainer who had first opened the door to him two days earlier eventually answered him, a look of mild surprise on his face. The man was no longer dressed in Essex’s tangerine livery, nor did he look nervous as he had done before. ‘Mr Shakespeare?’
‘Has everyone departed?’
‘Indeed, sir. They left for Essex House in London before noon. I believe Mr Richard Baines took them on the
