The Amorous Nightingale

    So will her uncle and aunt. They'll see it as more than a cause for regret, I can tell you.'

    'Calm down, Mr Bale, I pray you.'

    'Then show some more respect for the dead.'

    'We must temper respect with expediency.'

    'I agree with Mr Bale,' said Christopher. 'The girl's family deserve to know the worst. It's a cruelty to keep it from them.'

    'A necessary one.'

    'No, Mr Chiffinch. The body should be released.'

    'It must be,' affirmed Jonathan. 'I see your objection, sir, but it can be answered. The true facts must not be leaked out. Nor need they be. Peter can be told that his sister met with an unlucky accident. I'll pass on the same tidings to Mary's uncle and aunt. It will spare them some of the anguish but it will also enable the girl to have a decent burial.'

    'I support Mr Bale to the hilt,' said Christopher.

    'We won't be denied.'

    Chiffinch was nonplussed for once. He had not expected to meet such united opposition. Skilled in the issue of orders, he was used to obedience. He was less adept at coping with blank refusal. He eyed Jonathan with an amalgam of irritation and interest.

    'Could you really persuade them that the girl died by accident?' he said. 'Can you soften the truth so effectively?'

    'Yes, sir,' replied Jonathan. 'My work has often required me to break bad news to relatives. I'll find the right words.'

    'Trust him, Mr Chiffinch,' urged Christopher.

    'It looks as if I may have to,' said the other with slight asperity. He reached a decision. 'Very well, Mr Bale. Take charge of the arrangements. Tell me where the body is to be sent and it will be released.'

    'Thank you, sir.'

    Chiffinch saw an advantage. 'It will at least solve the problem of what we should do with it,' he said with relief. 'We could hardly keep it here indefinitely. Exercise prudence, that's all I ask, Mr Bale. Be politic in what you say.'

    A brief nod. 'May I spend a little time with Mary, sir?'

    'You want to go in there again?' asked a shocked Chiffinch.

    'Please, sir. Alone.'

    'That is more than I would care to do.'

    'Mary Hibbert was a friend, Mr Chiffinch. I'd like to pay my respects. I'd also like to take a closer look at her injuries. You may be repelled by death but I've looked upon it many times in my walk of life. There may be signs I can pick up, little clues that could have eluded your physician.' He moved towards the door. 'May I have your permission?'

    But he did not wait for it to be granted. Letting himself into the morgue, he closed the door silently behind him. Chiffinch gave a slight grimace and looked across at Christopher.

    'Mr Bale is a strange man,' he remarked.

    'You won't find a more honest or reliable fellow.'

    'A touch of deference might improve his character.'

    'Try telling him that,' suggested Christopher with a smile.

    'He seems to think he's a law unto himself.'

    'Oh, he is. Without question.'

    'Be that as it may,' said Chiffinch sternly, 'I am glad of a moment alone with you. Unlike the constable, you appreciate His Majesty's deep personal interest in this matter. He's displeased, Mr Redmayne. Progress in such a short time was too much to expect, but he did want a report from you. Yet we heard not a word.'

    'I was too preoccupied with the search.'

    'A maidservant abducted, a brother attacked. These are not minor matters. We should have been informed of them. What else have you been keeping from us?'

    'Nothing of note.'

    'Where has your investigation led you?'

    Christopher gave him a brief account of progress so far, omitting any reference to Jonathan's earlier refusal to help and instead praising the constable for his readiness. He listed the names that Henry had collected during his researches at the theatre and mentioned the curious fact Jonathan had unearthed in the Red Lion. William Chiffinch was intrigued.

    'Bartholomew Gow?' 'Apparently he lives somewhere in the lane.'

    'Why should his wife be going to see him?' asked the other. 'The two of them have parted. It's against nature. Ladies like Harriet Gow do not have assignations with discarded husbands.'

    'We have no proof that she did on this occasion.'

    'But it's a worrying coincidence.'

    'That's why we mean to look into it.'

    'Her coach is ambushed close to Mr Gow's house? That can surely be no accident, Mr Redmayne. Find the man.'

    'We mean to, sir.'

    'And send a report to me when you do.'

    Christopher nodded. Jonathan Bale came out of the room, face ashen and head lowered. Whatever he had learned during his vigil, he was keeping to himself. Chiffinch did not press him. Escorting the two men out, he handed them over to the waiting servants whose torches lit their way back to the coach. It was only when the vehicle was well clear of the Palace that Jonathan broke his silence.

    'I'm ashamed of myself, Mr Redmayne,' he admitted.

    'Ashamed?'

    'Of those suspicions I had. Mrs Gow is a true victim, I concede that now. An unscrupulous woman might try to trick money out of the men in her life but she would never go to these lengths.' A deep sigh escaped him. 'Mary Hibbert loved working for Mrs Gow. It shone out of her. And it was obvious that her mistress treated her well. She would never be party to what happened to the girl.'

    'The same fate may befall Harriet Gow if we don't find her soon.'

    'We'll find her,' vowed Jonathan, 'and the men who killed Mary Hibbert. I've a word or two to say to them on her behalf.'

    'So have I,' said Christopher, gritting his teeth. 'They're the same villains who attacked my brother, remember.'

    'Callous rogues, sir. Far too fond of those cudgels.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'You didn't see Mary's body, sir,' said Jonathan quietly. 'I did. I felt dreadful, having to look at her lying naked on that slab. But it had to be done. The physician was lying, Mr Redmayne.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'Mary suffered a great deal. Her whole body was covered in bruises where she'd been cudgelled unmercifully. I think she was beaten to death. My guess is that they only broke her neck afterwards. These men are animals,' he said with rancour. 'They didn't just murder the girl. They enjoyed it.'

Chapter Ten

    After a long and largely sleepless night, Harriet Gow dozed off in the chair, still agonising over her decision to condone her maidservant's bold escape bid. Her slumbers were soon interrupted. The door was unlocked and unbolted then flung open to allow the man and the woman to come bustling in. They wasted no time on a greeting. Harriet was grabbed and lifted bodily from her chair before being dragged out. As they hustled her up the steps, she found her voice again.

    'Where are you taking me?' she bleated.

    'Be quiet!' grunted the man.

    'Who are you?'

    'Never you mind.'

    'You're hurting my arm.'

    'Be glad that I don't do worse.'

    'What's going on?' she cried.

    'You'll be told in time.'

    'Where's Mary?'

    'Forget about her.'

    'Tell me!'