Deliverance: A Justice Belstrang Mystery John Pilkington (story reading .TXT) 📖

Mountford as well as for my own peace of mind. If necessary, I will seek leave from another authority.’

‘Do you mean Justice March?’ The other enquired coolly.

I signalled assent, then added that besides, I had been told Yakup spoke hardly any English. As a traveller, likely he used some other tongue, like Italian. I had some knowledge of it…

‘Very well, if you insist upon it so forcefully.’ Gwynne gave an impatient snort. ‘I’ll let him stew in the cell for the night, then begin the interrogation tomorrow at ten of the clock. Are you content now?’

To which I nodded, and rose to take my leave. As I reached the door, I glanced back to see the man busying himself with some papers. He did not look up.

Whereupon this bedraggled ex-magistrate got himself outside, asked directions to the house of the Justice, and trudged through the bustling city in search of some better company. And within the half hour, to my immense satisfaction I was made welcome – and more, there was no need to find an inn. For a while at least I was to be the guest of Thomas March, in whom I found an ally and a fellow-sceptic.

***

March was shrewd, and generally known for his rough humour, but he could also be a man of hot temper: a former officer, who had seen hard service in the Low Countries. I had not seen him in years, yet he was unchanged: a hotspur, who was inclined to mete out harsh sentences to miscreants. When I told him my tale that evening over a good supper, he was both intrigued and indignant. With him, I had spared no details - and by the time I was done, he was looking outraged.

‘But this is treasonous,’ he exclaimed. ‘Mountford’s people are supplying ordnance to a foreign power without the King’s knowledge, let alone his license. Men are hung for less!’

I made no reply, for it was true. We were sitting at March’s large table, about which his brood of children had once crowded. Now they were grown and gone, while his wife was away for the summer. Over a cup of Hippocras, we pondered the matter at length before my host spoke again.

‘Hamburg… you’re certain the Dutchman was bound for there?’ He asked. And when I told him I had no reason to doubt the man who informed me, a frown appeared.

‘But it makes no sense. From what that foundry-master told you – Russell, was it? – the ordnance goes to the Grand Turk. He swore you to secrecy, in your guise as Pride the speculator, on pain of death – so what are we to think? Since the King’s peace, we’re not at war with any nation on the continent - especially the German States.’

‘I know,’ I replied. ‘And there’s more to be uncovered – to whit the Concord Men, of whom Russell claimed ignorance. To my mind it sounds like a syndicate, diverting Mountford cannons from their rightful destination for private profit. I’d wager there are powerful men involved, who first put up the money - which means I could be on dangerous ground.’

March sighed, took a drink and met my eye. ‘Men like you and I have rarely been short of enemies, have we?’

‘We have not,’ I agreed. ‘Even if I haven’t always been correct in distinguishing friend from foe.’ After a brief silence, I added: ‘Though there’s no difficulty when it comes to the prisoner Yakup. Indeed, I’m lucky to be alive.’

At that, the other frowned. ‘You and I should question him together,’ he said. And before I could speak, he lifted a hand. ‘I don’t trust Gwynne, nor do I like his methods.’ He put on a grim smile. ‘They say I’m a hard man, but I’ve always tried to be a fair one. The keeper of the gaol is a bitter fellow, who feels he’s worthy of higher things. And he’s not above taking a bribe, I’ve heard. If your Turk serves these powerful men you speak of, then…’

He broke off, his meaning plain. In truth, it had never occurred to me that Yakup was in a position to pose any sort of difficulty – but his orders clearly came from somewhere. Having turned the matter about, I gave a nod.

‘Well then, we must present ourselves at the castle by ten of the clock tomorrow, and face Master Gwynne together. Though I expect he’ll insist on being part of the interrogation.’

‘He can insist all he likes,’ March replied sharply. ‘But he knows I have the ear of the High Sheriff of Gloucestershire – Thomas Chester is a hawking man, like me.’ A grin appeared. ‘Whereas, if I recall correctly, fishing was always your sport. So – tomorrow we’ll do a little fishing, shall we?’

With that he raised his cup, and we drank together.

***

The morning dawned cloudy and windy, but Robert Belstrang had slept like a lamb: my first good night’s rest since leaving The Comfort at Lydney. In dry clothes, with a fresh shirt loaned by my host, I felt ready to face whatever the day brought – and more, for the first time I believed I might make some headway in this tangled affair. Having breakfasted, Justice March and I left the house and walked to the castle, prepared for a confrontation with the keeper. But on arrival, here was the first surprise of the day: the interrogation, it seemed, was already in progress – and had been for the best part of an hour.

‘What in God’s name do you mean, fellow?’

March was staring belligerently at the hapless guard who stood in our way. We were outside the keeper’s chamber - the door of which was wide open, showing that the room was empty.

‘Your pardon, Master Justice,’ the man answered, with growing unease. ‘Master Gwynne is not to be disturbed when