Black had grown up on his father’s estate hunting deer. Tracking them and tracking people turned out not to be so different. Instead of hiding behind trees or bushes, he used doorways and pillars. Nor was Abbott particularly careful to cover his steps. Black easily followed him through his circuitous route until he disappeared up the stairway to Daughters.
Black considered following him into the establishment, but thought better of it because he’d then be unable to see who came and went. He stationed himself across the street and waited.
Over the next hour, he saw only one person he knew go in—Mrs. Crankshaw, the woman who served food and made coffee in the Tower for guests favoured by the Warder of the Tower, which had never included Black, despite his having made a number of requests to be added to the list. She went up the steps, but despite Black waiting awhile for her, she didn’t come back down.
After waiting a moment or two longer, it occurred to him that there might be another exit. He walked around to an alley that ran behind the building, just in time to see Mrs. Crankshaw descend a back stairway that hugged the outside of the building. She departed down the alley in the opposite direction.
He went up the back stairway, opened the door and stepped into an empty room with a large table in the middle. He tried to open the door that clearly led into the coffee house itself, but it was locked. He rapped on it, and when no one came, he pounded on it. Rather quickly, a middle-aged gentleman opened it and said, in a fairly heavy Irish brogue, “May I help you? The entrance to the restaurant is around the front. If you would kindly go down the steps you came up and go around and come in proper, it would be vastly appreciated.”
“I am an officer in His Majesty’s Army investigating a possible crime, and I will come in this way.”
He brushed past the man, who said, “Well, Colonel, you’ve come to a pub where the Irish like to gather. I don’t suppose you’ll be too popular here, especially if you say who you are, but suit yourself.”
“Do you know a Mrs. Crankshaw?” Black asked.
“No, I don’t suppose I do.”
“I am told she comes here often.”
The man sighed. “This is a coffee house frequented by the people in the neighbourhood, by people coming and going to whatever they do to earn their daily bread, and by people from all around London because it is one of the finest in London.”
“Do you know if Mrs. Crankshaw was in the room behind me today?” Black asked.
“Since I don’t know her, I couldn’t say. A while ago, I was in there m’self doing the books for m’business and drinking coffee. Before that, two hours ago, there was a card game.”
“Do you know Ambassador Abbott?”
“The man who they say is trying to negotiate an end to the American war?”
“Yes, that one.”
The man laughed out loud. “Now, why would I know such a high-born person, Colonel?”
“Do you know him, or not?”
“Neither in person nor by sight.”
Black looked around the place, saw no one he knew and stomped out via the front stairway.
Perhaps tracking people was not so easy as tracking deer. At least he had added Mrs. Crankshaw to their list of suspects.
It was now clear to him that if he were to have any chance at all of foiling whatever escape plot might be under way, he would need assistance. He went immediately to 10 Downing to try to see Lord North, but did not succeed. Instead Hartleb greeted him and told him North was at his home in the countryside. He would pass on the request, but in the meantime Black should just go forward as best he could.
* * *
After he left Daughters, Abbott went to the home of Patience Lovell Wright. They had corresponded, but never met. She greeted him warmly at the door and offered him coffee. Abbott was surprised at her appearance. For some reason, he had expected a younger woman. Mrs. Wright instead turned out to be a woman in late middle age, to whose long face time had applied deep creases.
After they had exchanged greetings, Abbott said, “Lord North has agreed that you may have access to the Tower to complete your bust of Washington. But for one day only.”
“I would like to have more time, but I can complete it in a day.”
“Mrs. Wright, I am given to understand from a mutual acquaintance that you are a strong friend of our Revolution.”
“I am an American, born and bred. I came here less than ten years ago. Our country deserves its independence.”
“Are you willing to take a risk for your country?”
“I have taken many already. Some of which badly damaged my business. What is one more? What do you propose, Ambassador?”
“Is it true that your bust of General Washington is almost complete, but that you need one live sitting to finish it?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, please come to the Tower for His Excellency’s sitting two days before his scheduled execution. No earlier, no later.”
“Is the day already known?”
“Not yet. But when it is set, it will be announced publicly, I am sure.”
“Is that your only request?”
“No. I assume the busts you make are hollow. I need there to be, inside the bust of Washington, a small, hidden shelf on which something a half foot long can be stored.”
“I do not understand.”
“A shelf that dips down from a ridge so that whatever is on it cannot easily be seen when you look inside, but must be felt for.”
“Something that might hold a weapon?”
He shrugged. “Something that might hold something a half foot long.”
“I can do that. Do you want the bust delivered somewhere afterwards?”
“No. I want you to leave it in His Excellency’s cell, in a corner. If you are asked, you will say you need to do still more work on it. The guards will not know that you are limited to one day.”
“At what time on that day am I to arrive?”
“I will be in touch and let you know.”
“What if he is never executed?”
“The bust will be returned to you, and I will find a way to be sure that, should you return to America at war’s end, you can sculpt not only Washington, but Jefferson, Adams and perhaps even Franklin.” He had no idea how he would accomplish any of that, but he would try.
She smiled. “I have already sculpted Dr. Franklin, but I would be highly pleased to do a new one of him and to sculpt the others, as well.”
They spent almost an hour after that discussing news from “home,” as Mrs. Wright called it. She was of the opinion that the London papers did not report fully on the military successes of the American side in the Revolution.
As Abbott prepared to leave she said, “Ambassador, when times improve I would be pleased to sculpt you, as well. Without charge.”
“I would be pleased to accept,” Abbott said.
Abbott then returned to Mrs. Stevenson’s. There were other things to attend to if his plan was to succeed.