I passed a dark alley, then jerked upright at a sudden rush of footsteps behind me. I turned quickly but got only a glimpse of young faces and blue robes, before a bag stinking of old vegetables was put over my head. Several pairs of hands seized me, hauling me into the alley. Robbers; like Michael I had carelessly advertised my wealth.
My back was slammed up against a stone wall. Then to my horror I felt hands around my neck, lifting me off the ground. My arms were held firm; my legs kicked helplessly against the stone. I was strangling, hanging. Then a hard youthful voice spoke into my ear.
‘Listen to me carefully, master hunchback.’
I gasped, gagged. Little red flashes began to appear in the pitch darkness inside the bag.
‘We could have you dead in a minute,’ the voice continued. ‘Remember that and listen hard. You drop this case, you forget about it. There’s people who don’t want this matter taken further. Now, tell me you understand.’ The pressure at my neck eased, though other hands still gripped my arms hard.
I coughed, managed to gasp a yes.
The hands released me, and I dropped to the muddy ground in a heap, the bag still over my head. By the time I clawed it off they had gone. I lay in the dark alley, taking great sucking breaths to get some air back into my lungs. Then I leaned over and was violently sick.
Chapter Eight
I MADE MY WAY home painfully, pausing occasionally for I felt dizzy. By the time I stumbled through my front door my neck was so swollen it was painful to swallow. I went up to Guy’s room. When he answered the door I could scarcely speak, my voice a croak. He made me lie down and applied a poultice, which brought some small relief. I told him I had been robbed, and he gave me a sharp look when he saw my purse was still at my belt; I felt guilty, but I had decided to keep what had happened to myself for now.
Guy told me to lie down and rest, but a short time later there was a knock at my door. Coldiron looked at me curiously as he told me I had a late visitor, Alderman Carver. I told him to show Carver into the parlour. Wearily, I went downstairs.
The set of Carver’s plump face told me he had brought no good news. He, too, stared at my neck. ‘Forgive my voice, sir,’ I croaked. ‘I was attacked earlier. Robbers.’
Carver shook his head. ‘There are more and more robberies with so many constables away at the war. The times are mad. And I fear I have been unable to get a release for your man Barak.’
‘But his wife—’
‘I have spoken to Mayor Laxton and he has talked to Goodryke. But he is adamant he wants Barak. He has the bit truly between his teeth; Barak must have sorely annoyed him. Says the King has ordered sharp dealing with impertinence. Laxton said we could appeal to the Privy Council, but they are under orders from the King to veto any softness.’
‘And I can’t plead for the Queen to intervene with the King. My name has no favour with him.’
‘His worship suggested one possible way forward.’ Carver raised his eyebrows. ‘Deal with the matter by stealth. Perhaps Barak could disappear somewhere for a while. He’ll get orders very soon for swearing in.’
‘He has already.’
‘If he doesn’t turn up, it’s the council that would be asked to send constables to find him. Well – ’ he gave a politician’s calculating smile – ‘they need not try too hard. And if he is gone, well …’
‘But where? Neither Barak nor his wife have any relatives alive. I have some in the Midlands, but Tamasin is seven months gone with child, she could not travel. And what if they come after him later for desertion? It’s a capital offence.’
‘Goodryke himself will be gone to the wars soon, surely.’ Carver spread his plump, beringed hands. ‘I can do no more, sir.’
‘I understand. I will have to talk to Barak. Thank you for what you have done, sir, I am grateful.’ I hesitated, then added, ‘I wonder if I could impose on you further for some information. In connection with a case. You have sat on the Common Council many years.’
‘Indeed. Near twenty.’ Carver’s plump figure swelled with pride.
‘I hear the council has been negotiating with the King to take over the Bedlam.’
‘For some time. We are trying to get the King to fund hospitals under the city’s control; taking over the Bedlam would be part of the scheme.’
‘The wardenship has been in the King’s gift many years. I know Sir George Metwys holds it now. I know George Boleyn held the wardenship before, till his execution. Might you remember who held it before him? I need to go back to 1526.’
Carver thought. ‘I believe it was Sir John Howard. I remember now, he died in office.’