The Princess of Denmark (26 page)

‘They deserved it, Master Rooker.’

Rooker was scornful. ‘If everyone got their deserts, sir,’ he said, ‘then the Queen’s Head would fall down around your miserable ears. My business with you ends here and I have never been so glad to rid myself of a client.’

Pursued by Marwood’s wild imprecations, he went out of the yard and vanished into Gracechurch Street. The landlord stamped his foot then took another despairing look at the deserted building site. Grinding his teeth, he scuttled off to the taproom to unpack his woes to his wife, knowing that he was more likely to get reproach than sympathy but needing to tell someone of his cruel rebuff. Expecting to find Sybil in her usual icy and unforgiving mood, he was astounded to hear her
laughing gaily as she talked to Nicholas Bracewell.

‘Come in, come in, Alexander,’ she cooed, beckoning him over to her. ‘Nicholas has returned from Denmark with good news.’

‘It’s bad news that Westfield’s Men have returned at all.’

‘My husband jests,’ she said, shooting him a glare that made his blood run cold. ‘He was saying only this morning how much he missed the company.’

‘As I miss the plague,’ said Marwood under his breath.

‘Your wife has been telling me about a contract you signed,’ said Nicholas. ‘On the condition that we never played here again, Will Dunmow’s father undertook to pay for the rebuilding of the inn.’

‘An iniquitous contract,’ said Sybil with disdain. ‘I tried hard to stop Alexander from signing it. Fortunately,’ she added, riding over the objection that sprang to her husband’s lips, ‘it no longer exists. Isaac Dunmow was murdered here in London.’

‘I know,’ said Nicholas. ‘Owen Elias and I had the privilege of handing over the killer to the magistrates – after Owen had exchanged a few words with the fellow, that is. So, it would seem that your contract is null and void.’

‘Yes, Master Bracewell,’ said the landlord.

‘Do you regret that?’

‘Very much.’

‘Alexander!’ chided his wife.

‘I do, Sybil. It was like manna from heaven.’

‘It was a dreadful mistake and we must be honest enough to admit it. I think that a personal apology is needed to Lord Westfield.’ She quelled Marwood’s attempted protest with
another glare. ‘How misled we have been in our judgement of him! He is a fount of true benevolence.’

‘What are you talking about, woman?’ said Marwood.

‘Allow me to explain,’ said Nicholas. ‘Our visit to Denmark was not without its perils and we were able to save our patron from being tricked into something that he would regret for the remainder of his life. In token of his regret – and on one single condition – Lord Westfield has offered to pay for the rest of the repairs here so that the Queen’s Head can return to its former glory.’

‘This is true manna from heaven,’ declared Sybil, clapping her hands girlishly together. ‘Say something, Alexander. Accept the offer.’

Marwood was cautious. ‘You mention a condition.’

‘Just one,’ said Nicholas.

‘What is it?’

‘That Westfield’s Men can play here again in perpetuity.’

‘My husband agrees,’ said Sybil over Marwood’s groan of pain. ‘Have the contract and he will sign it if I have to hold his hand while he does it. Is that not so, Alexander?’

The landlord looked into her eyes and saw such a compound of threat, malice, entreaty, demand and, incredibly, sexual allure, that he lost all power to resist. While he was still under her spell, the door of the taproom opened and Lawrence Firethorn led in the whole troupe.

‘Nick, dear heart,’ he said. ‘Do we have our playhouse?’

‘I still await a reply,’ said Nicholas.

Everyone turned to their hated landlord, knowing that he would rather drink hemlock than invite them back to the Queen’s Head. Only the generosity of Lord Westfield could win him over. Marwood glanced first at his wife. The spectre of allure was still there. He summoned up a crooked smile.

‘Welcome home, gentlemen,’ he said with forced geniality. ‘Sybil and I have pined for your return. I have repeated the same thing day after day. The Queen’s Head is nothing without Westfield’s Men.’

They gave him a rousing cheer.

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E
DWARD
M
ARSTON
was born and brought up in South Wales. A full-time writer for over forty years, he has worked in radio, film, television and the theatre and is a former chairman of the Crime Writers’ Association. Prolific and highly successful, he is equally at home writing children’s books or literary criticism, plays or biographies.

www.edwardmarston.com

T
HE
B
RACEWELL
M
YSTERIES

The Queen’s Head • The Merry Devils • The Trip to Jerusalem

The Nine Giants • The Mad Courtesan • The Silent Woman

The Roaring Boy • The Laughing Hangman • The Fair Maid of Bohemia

The Wanton Angel • The Devil’s Apprentice • The Bawdy Basket

The Vagabond Clown • The Counterfeit Crank • The Malevolent Comedy

The Princess of Denmark

T
HE
R
AILWAY
D
ETECTIVE SERIES

The Railway Detective • The Excursion Train

The Railway Viaduct • The Iron Horse

Murder on the Brighton Express • The Silver Locomotive Mystery

Railway to the Grave • Blood on the Line

The Stationmaster’s Farewell • Peril on the Royal Train

A Ticket to Oblivion

Inspector Colbeck’s Casebook
Thirteen Takes from the Railway Detective

The Railway Detective Omnibus:
The Railway Detective, The Excursion Train, The Railway Viaduct

T
HE
C
APTAIN
R
AWSON SERIES

Soldier of Fortune • Drums of War • Fire and Sword

Under Siege • A Very Murdering Battle

T
HE
R
ESTORATION SERIES

The King’s Evil • The Amorous Nightingale • The Repentant Rake

The Frost Fair • The Parliament House • The Painted Lady

T
HE
H
OME
F
RONT
D
ETECTIVE SERIES

A Bespoke Murder • Instrument of Slaughter

Five Dead Canaries

If you liked
The Princess of Denmark
,
try Edward Marston’s other series…