‘Captain Fenchurch paid us off in London. With the costs of the voyage he’d made little profit even with the furs, and he’d no plans then for another. So I went back to the colliers. But he gave me a bottle of the Polish stuff as a keepsake and I brought it here. Remember that night, Robin?’
‘I’ll not forget it in a hurry.’ One of the others, a young fair-haired fellow, took up the tale. ‘Hal came in and told us all about the Poles, their long beards and pointy fur hats and the dark forests, then he brought out this bottle of pale stuff and passed it round, saying it was what the Poles drank. You warned us it was strong stuff though, Hal, told us only to take a sip.’
‘You knew better, though, Robin,’ one of the others said, laughing.
‘I thought I did,’ the fair-haired fellow replied. ‘I took a long swig at the bottle and, by Our Lady, I thought my head was going to burst. I spat the stuff straight out, right across the table. It was winter and dark, there were candles on all the tables. The stuff hit the candle and knocked it over and then - by Jesu—’
‘What?’
‘The whole table caught light. The stuff should have put the candle out, but the whole top of the table burst into a strange blue flame. You can imagine the effect it had. Everyone jumped up—all over the tavern people were shouting out and crossing themselves. Then the fire died as quickly as it started, leaving hardly a mark on the table. It was this very one.’ He laid a hand on the scuffed tabletop, which was indeed unmarked.
‘It was like witchcraft,’ Hal Miller said. ‘After that I threw the stuff away.’
I frowned. ‘You said this was in the winter.’
‘Ay, January. I remember we weren’t looking forward to the long voyage up the coast in the storms.’
‘When did the man Toky approach you?’
Miller’s eyes were watchful again. ‘Later that month, when we got back from Newcastle. The story had got around, see, about a foreign drink that could catch fire. He came here one night with another, a big man. Strutted in as though he owned the place and came right up to us. His big mate was carrying an axe - half the tavern emptied at the sight of it. He said he’d been asked to get some of this stuff, said his master would pay.’
‘Did he say who his master was?’
‘No, and we didn’t ask. He said he’d pay good money, though. He didn’t believe me at first when I said I’d chucked the bottle off Queenhithe dock. Started to get threatening, but he went away when I gave him Captain Fenchurch’s address. I was sorry I did, but I was afraid. I enquired after Fenchurch later, from one of his servants. Fenchurch had told the servant he’d managed to sell the barrel on and made a handsome profit.’
‘Who to?’
‘The servant knew no more. The pock-faced man, I assumed.’
‘Marchamount? Bealknap? Bryanston? Do any of those names ring any bells with you?’ I did not add Rich or Norfolk’s names, for everyone in London knew those.
‘No, sir, I’m sorry.’
‘Where does Captain Fenchurch live?’
‘On the Bishopsgate Road, but he’s abroad again. He’s taken a ship to Sweden. He asked me to join him, but I’ve had enough of these devilish places. He won’t be back till the autumn.’
Then at least he had not been killed too. ‘Thank you, anyway.’ I nodded to Barak, who took out his purse and passed some coins to Miller. ‘If you think of anything more,’ he said, ‘you can reach me by way of the landlord.’
I led the way outside, halting a little way from the inn. The Vintry crane stood outlined against the starlit sky like the neck of a huge swan. I looked out over the dark river.
‘Stumped again,’ Barak said. ‘If only that arsehole captain hadn’t gone abroad.’
I raised a hand. ‘Think of the dates, Barak,’ I said excitedly. ‘Master Miller causes a great stir in the tavern in January. That’s three months after the Greek Fire was found at Barty’s, but two months before the Gristwoods contacted Bealknap as the first step in getting to Cromwell. What were they doing in those months?’
‘Building and testing the apparatus?’
‘Yes.’
‘And trying to produce more Greek Fire, using the formula? The Polish stuff must be part of it.’ Barak looked excited.
‘Or perhaps they heard the story of the fiery liquid, and sent Toky down here to try and get some to see if it could be of use.’
‘But they must have known what they needed and what materials. They had the formula.’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? So Toky’s paymaster, whoever it was, was involved at a very early stage. Working with the Gristwoods. Months before the approach to Cromwell.’
‘That doesn’t make sense. If he was working with the Gristwoods, why have Toky kill them?’ He stared at me. ‘Perhaps the Gristwoods went to Cromwell behind their first sponsor’s back, perhaps they were looking for a better offer.’