The Parliament House

    'Dan Crothers was not illiterate,' said Bale, recalling the letters they had found upon him. 'And he was only the tool of someone else, sir. His services were bought.'

    'By whom, Mr Bale - and for what reason?'

    'We will find out in due course.'

    'I have every faith in you and Mr Redmayne. I understand that this is not the first time you've been involved together in solving such a heinous crime.'

    'No, Mr Polegate. We've joined forces in the past with some success. What we've learned is that nothing can be rushed. Patience is our watchword. Slow, steady steps will eventually get us to the truth.' He changed his tack. 'I spoke to those friends whose names you gave me. They were all full of sympathy.'

    'That's good to know.'

    'Mr Howlett was particularly upset to hear the sad tidings.'

    'He would be. Erasmus has a kind heart - except when it comes to business, that is. There's no room for sentiment in that.'

    'It surprised me that the two of you should be on such familiar terms when you must be keen rivals.'

    'Not really, Mr Bale.'

    'You both sell drink to the public.'

    'Yes,' said Polegate, loftily, 'but we reach different markets. Beer is the choice of the majority of the populace. It's cheap and relatively easy to make.'

    'I know, sir. My wife, Sarah, brews it at home.'

    'Wine is more expensive because it has to be imported and is heavily taxed. In the main, I sell French and Rhenish wines, though

    I expect to import from Spain and Portugal as well in future. Customers who drink beer at a tavern like the Saracen's Head would not even consider purchasing my stock.' He gave a dry laugh. 'Here's a paradox for you, Mr Bale. One of the city's leading brewers will not touch a drop of his beer. He prefers my wine.'

    'Mr Howlett?'

    'He has an educated palate.'

    'And he can afford the higher prices.'

    'Yes, Erasmus is a wealthy man. A very amiable one, too.'

    'So I discovered,' said Bale. 'Though I felt sorry for the way that his hands were constantly trembling. That must be a problem.'

    'It does not prevent him from counting the week's takings,' said Polegate, wryly, 'I know that. It's a problem he's had for years and it seems to be beyond cure.'

    'Does it prevent him from writing?'

    'I don't think so - not that I've had any correspondence from him myself.'

    'Is he interested in political affairs?'

    'Everyone in business takes a keen interest in that, Mr Bale. Our livelihoods are closely linked to the laws that are passed, and the taxes that are voted in. Why do you ask about Erasmus?'

    'He had the air of a politician about him.'

    'I've never noticed that. Sir Julius Cheever is my idea of a Member of Parliament - strong, outspoken and committed to his principles. My brother-in-law would have been the same,' he continued with a shrug, 'but it was not to be. Erasmus Howlett is hardly in their mould.'

    'He would hardly share their ideals,' said Bale. 'What I meant was that Mr Howlett had unmistakable character. He spoke well and with great confidence. Such men often drift into the political arena.'

    'In one sense, you are right about him.'

    'Am I?'

    'Yes,' said the other, 'Erasmus may have no ambitions to enter the House of Commons but he does have one dream with a political flavour to it - he wishes to be Lord Mayor one day.'

    'Really?' said Bale. 'Is there any likelihood of that?'

    'A definite likelihood and I would certainly profit from it. What better advertisement could I have than to be known as the vintner who fills the cellars of the Mayor of London?'

    'And does Mr Howlett provide you with beer in return?'

    'Oh, no, Mr Bale,' replied Polegate. 'Once you have acquired a taste for wine, beer is anathema. At least, it was in my case. As for dear Erasmus,' he went on, 'his desire to become Lord Mayor is no idle dream. It's a project on which he has worked very carefully. He's taken advice on how to achieve his aim from a true politician.'

    'And who is that, sir?'

    'His cousin - the Earl of Stoneleigh.'

        'Stoneleigh!' exclaimed Sir Julius Cheever, cheeks puce with rage. 'I should have known that that wily devil was behind it.'

    'I felt it my duty to report to you,' said Henry.

    'I'm grateful to you, Mr Redmayne. It solves the mystery.'

    'Word of it would have spread quickly. You must have been the subject of considerable mockery in parliament.'

    'I was,' admitted the other, shuddering at the memory. 'They laughed at me like so many hyenas. Had I walked stark naked into the chamber, I could not have provoked more ridicule.'

    Lancelot Serle had not needed to go to the Parliament House. He had met Sir Julius as his father-in-law was on his way home and told him of his visitor. Throbbing with fury, Sir Julius had refused to confide the cause of his anger to Serle. As soon as he got back to the house, he took Henry into the upstairs room he used as a study and demanded to know why he had come.

    'Explain it in full,' he now invited. 'I want to know all the details of this outrage.'

    'Earlier today,' Henry explained, 'I was taken by friends to visit the theatre. It's not something that I would ordinarily do, Sir Julius,' he lied, 'for I do not like to have my sensibilities offended by some of the base and slanderous matter that seems to inhabit our stages. I only agreed to go on this occasion because I was acquainted with the author of the play.'

    'The Earl of Stoneleigh.'

    'I know him as Cuthbert Woodruffe.'

    'And I, as an arrant knave,' growled Sir Julius.

    'The play was called The Royal Favourite and I had, by sheer chance, seen it when it was first performed at the King's Theatre. It's an amusing comedy and free from the kind of salaciousness that seems to infect the work of most dramatists.'

    'Yet you say a new scene had been added to the play.'

    'A long and very significant new scene, Sir Julius.'

    'Portraying me in a very unflattering light.'

    'Alas, yes,' said Henry, pretending to a sympathy he did not feel. 'I was so shocked on your behalf that I almost fled the theatre. What kept me there was the fact that you deserved a full account of what took place, so I forced myself to sit through the scene.'

    'You deserve my gratitude for that, Mr Redmayne.'

    'There could be no doubt that you were being lampooned. The name of the character was Sir Julius Seize-Her, a rapacious country gentleman from Northamptonshire.'

    'Now I see why they cried "Hail, Caesar!" at me in parliament.'

    'The actor had a clear resemblance to you and dressed in the sort of apparel that you wear. Everyone recognised you instantly.'

    'I did not know that I was so famous,' said Sir Julius, grimly. 'Was I shown as a Member of Parliament?'

    'Oh, yes,' replied Henry. 'In fact, the whole scene took place in the Parliament House. Sir Julius Seize-Her had inveigled an attractive young woman into the chamber so that he could prey upon her virtue. When she resisted, he pursued her around the stage with gusto.' He gave an admiring smile. 'As a matter of fact, you showed a wonderful turn of foot, Sir Julius.'

    'It was not me, man - only some crude version of me.'

    'Crude and insulting.'

    'How did the scene end?'