‘Nicholas Bracewell.’
Olgrave sobered at once. ‘How ever did he get in here?’
‘By posing as a beggar by the name of Tom Rooke.’
‘Excuse me, Nan,’ said Olgrave, moving her off his lap and getting up. ‘This business will not wait. Do not go away, my sweet, for I’ll soon be back.’ He blew her a kiss then hurried for the door with Beechcroft. Once outside, he turned on his partner. ‘Now then, Joseph. What’s this all about?’
‘Our survival.’
‘Do not talk such nonsense. What can one man do against so many of us?’
‘He broke into the counting house. He has our ledgers.’
‘What?’ cried Olgrave. ‘Both of them?’
‘Yes, Ralph. He stole them and hid them. I’ve hunted everywhere.’
‘Are you sure that it was that book holder from Westfield’s Men?’
‘As sure as I am that he holds our books now,’ said Beechcroft. ‘If the aldermen should ever see those accounts, we are both condemned.’
‘Calm down, Joseph. It will not come to that.’
‘I think that we should run for it while we can.’
‘No!’
‘Divide the money and get clean away.’
‘That’s lunacy.’
‘It’s the only way out. Stay here and we’ll both be arraigned. There’s more than enough for the two of us, Ralph. Come and take your share.’
‘I’ll not dream of it.’
‘But it’s what we’d always planned to do if we were found out.’
‘We’ve not been found out, you idiot,’ said Olgrave, taking him by the shoulders to shake him. ‘We have an interloper in Bridewell, that’s all.’
‘An interloper in possession of evidence that could send us both to prison.’
‘Only if he gets that evidence out of here. And how can he do that?’
‘I told you that this man would be a danger.’
‘Not when we’ve done the job that Gregory was sent to do,’ asserted Olgrave, taking out his dagger. ‘If this meddling fool is inside Bridewell, there’s no way that he can get out again. All the gates are locked.’
‘He managed to get in, Ralph.’
‘He’ll live to regret that, I warrant you. Now, where is the rogue?’
‘That’s the problem we face,’ wailed Beechcroft.
‘What is?’
‘Nicholas Bracewell has vanished.’
As long as he stayed where he was, Nicholas felt safe. Having climbed to the apex of the roof, he now lay on the outward slope so that he was invisible from the courtyard. The ledgers were stuffed up against a chimney and, even if it rained, they would be protected. Their disappearance was causing unrest. When he peeped over the ridge tiles, he could see a group of people in the yard, some with blazing torches, taking orders from Ralph Olgrave. The keepers dispersed to carry out a methodical search, leaving Olgrave alone in the courtyard with his partner. Their voices were raised in argument but Nicholas could not hear all that was said. Beechcroft pointed up at the counting house then ran towards the door that would give him access to it.
Bearing torches, other keepers came trotting up to help in the search for the fugitive. Olgrave sent all but two of them to explore the rooms on the ground floor. Looking upwards, he studied the gable window of the counting house and reached a decision. When Nicholas saw him point to the roof, he knew that his hiding place had been discovered. He had either to find an open window on the exterior of the building, or wait to be caught. Lowering himself to the edge of the roof on the side above the Fleet, he went carefully along the edge from gable to gable, trying each of the windows. He soon found one that was open but, before he could swing down into it, a keeper came into it and saw his legs dangling down.
The alarm was raised at once. Nicholas had no means of escape. All that he could do was to scramble back up to the apex of the roof. Sitting astride it, he looked down into the courtyard where Olgrave was still standing. The latter could see his outline against the night sky.
‘Give yourself up while you can!’ he yelled.
‘No,’ replied Nicholas, boldly. ‘You’ll have to come and get me.’
‘You are trespassing on private property.’
‘My crime pales beside those that you have committed, Master Olgrave.’
‘Watch what you say, sir!’
‘Your days in Bridewell are over. You and your partner will be thrown out of here like the villains that you are. You’ll hang from the gallows — both of you.’
‘Seize him!’ shouted Olgrave.
Nicholas looked along the roof and saw that a short, stocky man was climbing out of a gable window some ten yards away. When the man got on to the tiles and steadied himself, he pulled a dagger from his belt. Making his way up the incline, he reached the apex and cocked a leg over it. Nicholas expected the man to move towards him but the keeper had another plan. Without warning, he suddenly hurled the weapon at Nicholas. The book holder swung quickly to the left but the dagger still grazed his arm. Though it was only a scratch, he put a hand to it to stem the trickle of blood.
Encouraged by his success, the man moved a few feet closer to his target before taking a second dagger from his belt. He was confident of hitting him this time. As the keeper raised his arm to throw, Nicholas snatched out his own weapon and used it to parry the missile that came hurtling towards him. It clattered down the roof and fell harmlessly into the river below. Nicholas then did something that amazed Ralph Olgrave and the others who were watching from the courtyard. Standing up on the ridge tiles, he stretched out his arms to aid his balance then walked nimbly along them as if strolling on firm ground. He threatened the keeper with his dagger.
‘Get down while you may,’ he ordered.
‘Keep off!’
‘Go now, and you’ll not be harmed.’
The man tried to obey. Losing his nerve, he tried to lower himself swiftly down the roof but his hold slipped and he tumbled backwards, rolling down the incline until he dropped over the edge. He let out a long scream of despair as he plummeted downwards. When his body hit the ground, there was an awesome thud, followed by a long silence. It was eventually broken by a command from Ralph Olgrave.
‘Fetch guns!’ he ordered. ‘Shoot him off the roof.’
Joseph Beechcroft heard the scream and rushed to the window of the counting house to look down. By the light of the torches, he could see the keeper’s body, twisted into an unnatural shape as it lay on the ground. Their interloper was still at liberty. Beechcroft did not wait any longer. Sensing that their reign at the Bridewell was nearing its end, he unlocked a cupboard and took out several purses, stuffing them into a leather satchel as fast as he could. Leaving his partner’s share of the booty intact, he locked the cupboard again and fled through the door, hurtling down the staircase. When he came out of the door at ground level, he had to step over the body of the dead man.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Olgrave.
‘Leaving while I can, Ralph. You should do the same.’
‘But we have him cornered. A pistol or a musket will soon bring him down.’
‘Yes,’ said Beechcroft, looking up. ‘In front of witnesses. There’ll be faces watching from every window. What they’ll see is murder. I’ll not stay.’
‘Hold!’ said Olgrave, grabbing his arm. ‘We can face this out.’
‘No, Ralph. It’s too late. The game is up.’
‘Why throw it all away?’
‘Let me go,’ insisted Beechcroft.
Pulling his arm free, he fled across the courtyard in the direction of the main gate.
Though she became increasingly weary, Dorothea Tate did not dare to fall asleep. Concealed in her doorway, she did not shift her gaze from Bridewell for a second, hoping and praying that her chance would somehow come. She reflected on the horrors she had suffered inside its walls, and thought once more of her dearest friend, stolen from her forever because he had tried to protect her. Dorothea also thought fondly of those who had given her succour in the wake of her loss. She was jerked out of her reverie by the sound of the gate of Bridewell, creaking back on its hinges. She was on her feet in an instant. Her eyes were now accustomed to the dark and she was able to pick out the shape of the rider who came out through the gate. Her spirits lifted. Revenge was at hand.