The Amorous Nightingale

    'He said that he would go back to his brother's house, Mr Bale.'

    'That's in Bedford Street, isn't it?'

    'Number seventeen,' confirmed the servant. 'That was the message he left for you. Mr Redmayne was worried about his brother's condition. You're to meet him there.'

    'Oh, I see.'

    Jonathan's step had lost its spring by the time he reached the larger and more imposing abode of Henry Redmayne. He hesitated before knocking, wishing that he could speak with Christopher at the latter's home but necessity compelled him to swallow his feelings of social awkwardness. Since he was still in his shipwright's attire, he was looked at askance by the servant who answered the door. Loath to admit him, the servant was amazed when Jonathan's name was sent upstairs and brought Christopher tripping down them. Delighted to see the constable, he escorted him into the house and up to his brother's bedchamber.

    Henry Redmayne was sitting up in his capacious fourposter.

    'Goodness!' he protested as the visitor was brought in. 'Am I some kind of peepshow that you bring people in off the street to stare at me?'

    'Mr Bale is entitled to be here,' said his brother. 'He's the brave man who captured one of your attackers and, I hope to hear, has tracked the other to his lair. Is that correct?'

    'More or less, Mr Redmayne.' Hat in hand, Jonathan managed a polite enquiry of the patient. 'How are you now, sir?'

    'All the better for the news of your bravery,' said Henry. 'Who are the villains? And why did they have to pick on me when I was wearing one of my best coats? It was sodden with blood afterwards.'

    'They're both in custody now, sir.'

    'Excellent,' congratulated Christopher, patting him on the arm. 'Tell us the full details. Did you go to the Hope and Anchor?'

    'Yes, Mr Redmayne.'

    Still slightly embarrassed by the situation, Jonathan gave a much shorter account of his movements than he might otherwise have done. Christopher was delighted and Henry, restored by a solid meal and two glasses of wine, was pleased to hear that the wheels of justice had rolled over the two men who had assaulted him.

    'Where are the devils now?' he wondered.

    'In Newgate, sir,' said Jonathan. 'I could get nothing out of Smeek when I questioned him, but Froggatt was more talkative. I hit on the idea of putting them in the same cell, knowing that they'd each accuse the other of committing the murder. It was a wise move,' he said modestly. 'They yelled at each other and gave away information without even realising they were doing it. When they came to blows, we had to pull them apart. Even with one arm in a splint, Ben Froggatt's a violent man.'

    'Did they say who put them up to it?' asked Christopher.

    'They don't know, Mr Redmayne, that's the pity of it. I got the name of the man who hired them - Arthur Oscott - but he didn't organise the abduction. That was someone else's doing.'

    'How can we find this character Oscott?'

    'By going to the house where Mrs Gow is held.'

    'You know where it is?' said Christopher, tingling all over.

    'Not exactly,' confessed Jonathan, 'but I managed to get some details out of them. They were responsible for taking her there. The house is in Richmond, just off the main road. Ben Froggatt said that it wasn't too far from the Palace.'

    'We'll find it!'

    'Richmond,' mused Henry. 'Who has a house in Richmond?'

    'Anyone on that list of names you gave me?' said his brother.

    'Nobody that I can think of, Christopher. And there must be several houses not far from the Palace. It could take you an age to get round them all. Wait a minute,' he said, hauling himself up gingerly. 'Yes, he used to have a property in Richmond, if memory serves.'

    'Who?'

    'That scurvy member of the merry gang.'

    'Give us a name, Henry.'

    'Sir Godfrey Armadale.'

    'I never agreed to be party to murder, Sir Godfrey!' protested his irate visitor. 'You swore it would never come to that.'

    'I never expected that it would.'

    'Mary Hibbert was a harmless young girl.'

    'She escaped from the house. She could have raised the alarm.'

    'Does that mean she had to be beaten to death?'

    'No, of course not. My orders were to bring her back.'

    'What went wrong, Sir Godfrey?'

    'Smeek and Froggatt lost their heads.'

    'Ben Froggatt, in particular, I daresay. As I know to my cost.'

    Days after the assault, Roland Trigg still bore vivid mementoes of his beating. He had travelled to the house in a state of towering anger, still stricken by the news about Mary Hibbert and worried about the consequences for himself. Sir Godfrey Armadale let him rant on until the sting of his fury had been drawn then he asserted his authority. He was a slim, elegant man in his late thirties, fashionably dressed and wearing a brown wig that matched the colour of his curling moustache. His face had surrendered its once handsome features to long nights of revelry and indulgence. Deep lines had been gouged, pouches had formed beneath the eyes and the skin had taken on a sallow hue.

    'Have you quite finished, Trigg?' he said at length.

    'They should have stuck to the plan, Sir Godfrey.'

    'You were the idiot who didn't do that,' accused the other bitterly. 'Your orders were simple enough yet you couldn't obey them, could you? Why on earth did you have to attack Froggatt like that?'

    'To get my own back.'

    'And lose me one valuable man.'

    'Ben Froggatt was a bad choice from the start.'

    'Not according to Arthur Oscott.'

    'I warned him against Ben but he wouldn't listen. They were supposed to ambush the coach and shake me up a little. That was the plan, Sir Godfrey. Instead of which,' he complained, 'Ben Froggatt sets about me with his cudgel as if he wants to kill me. I'm not standing for that from anybody.'

    'So you throw the whole scheme into jeopardy.'

    'No!'

    'Yes, you did!'

    'Ben had to be dealt with, Sir Godfrey.'

    'Then why, in God's name, couldn't you wait until this business was over before you did so? You could have carved him up for dinner then, for all I cared. But no, you couldn't wait, could you? Thanks to you,' he said with withering scorn, 'Smeek was taken and Froggatt is rotting beside him in Newgate.'

    Trigg was alarmed. 'They've been captured?'

    'Yes,' said Armadale, regarding him with disgust. 'Because of your hot blood, I had to send Smeek to do a job that Froggatt would have done properly. Smeek blundered and was arrested by that constable.'

    'Jonathan Bale?'

    'We underestimated him.'

    'You should have sent me to deal with Mr Bale.'

    'After the way you've behaved so far, I wouldn't trust you to do anything. If you'd done as you were told, none of this would have happened. The whole thing would've been over and done with and nobody would have been any the wiser.'

    'I did my share,' bleated the coachman. 'I kept an eye on Mr Redmayne and that constable. Yes, and who was it who told you about Mr Redmayne's brother making those enquiries?' 'You did,' conceded the other.

    'I worked hard, Sir Godfrey.'

    'You were very helpful at first. Until you lost your temper.'

    'Ben Froggatt was the one who lost his temper. Battering to death an innocent girl like that. If I'd known about it when I gave him his own beating, he'd never have got up again, I swear it.'