Chapter Fourteen

The sight of Seven Rivers Road was a welcome one. How oft had I traveled this road with Will at my side, going to or returning from the fleshpots of London? We had not a care in the world then. As we passed Holy Trinity Church, I realized with a start that my old friend lay there, already decaying. I remembered something he had written once about sullied flesh resolving into a dew, and the memory sparked a shiver down my back.

The bridge into Stratford was just as I remembered it. With a start, I realized that it had been but ten days since I left. It seemed so much longer. On the morrow, Will’s killer would either be revealed or I would be dead. I should have seen it from the first; I could have saved all of us much pain and sorrow.

“Malcolm, I would have you stop at my house as my guest.”

He shook his head. “No, I will stay at Perrott’s and gauge the mood of the town. I can learn more by listening to gossip if considered an outsider than a friend of yours. People will be guarded if they believe that I am allied with you. If I am a foreigner, they will be more willing to talk amongst themselves.”

With that, Malcolm went his way to Perrott’s and I turned towards Henley Street and my family. I opened the door, and all was quiet within. Mary was not chattering away. Margaret was not scolding her. I heard no sounds at all. I wandered through each room, but all were empty.

“Peg! I am home!”

The words echoed through the empty house.

“Simon.”

I turned and there, standing alone in the doorway, was my cousin Hamnet, the corners of his mouth turned down in sadness. “Hamnet, where is my family?”

“They are at my house, Simon. Mary has taken ill, and we brought her there so she could be better cared for. As soon as I heard you had returned, I came straightaway.”

———

Not five minutes later, I rushed into Hamnet’s house to find my darling baby lying listless, nearly lifeless it seemed, in Hamnet’s best bed, the one reserved for guests. Peg, Margaret and John Hall hovered over her still form.

“What has happened here?” I cried.

Peg turned to see me enter, and I gathered her up in my arms and held her tightly to my chest. The act sparked a cry of surprise from her, and she pushed me away, but just a bit. “Simon?”

I looked down at her. “We have no time for explanations now. Tell me what has happened here, John.” Later would come the time to hear his story of how Will had died; now, I cared only for Mary’s life.

John, looking pale and shaky, shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of defeat. “I do not understand it, Simon. She was fine yesterday, and today she is near death. It makes no sense, but she exhibits the same symptoms as Will Shakespeare did.”

A perplexed innocence coloured his words, something that I noted but had no time to pursue. All that mattered to me at that moment was my baby girl.

“Father,” I heard Margaret say. “You have changed!” The wonderment in her voice was pleasing to hear, but did nothing to dispel my panic over Mary.

I released Peg and went to little Mary’s side. I took her hand in mine, her tiny, tiny hand, and squeezed it gently. Mary’s eyes fluttered open and she attempted a smile. “My stomach hurts, Papa.”

“I know, child,” I said to comfort her but with no conviction in my voice. “Cousin John will help you.”

Releasing her hand, I gestured with my head for John to follow me into the next chamber. I took a moment to study him. Wilkins or whoever had been sent to steal the book had done a pretty piece of work on him. Both eyes were still blackened, though the bruises were beginning to lighten. He still wore a bandage about his forehead.

“John,” I began. “I have your casebook, the one that detailed Will’s treatment, the one stolen from you when you were assaulted.”

Shock and disbelief spread across his face. “Simon! If you were involved in this…”

But I stopped him with a raised hand. “I was not, John. But I know who was and I cannot tell you. Let me simply say that there was a reason behind it. Perhaps not a good one, and certainly not one that demanded that you be so savagely beaten. I can tell you that I have exacted at least a measure of revenge for your treatment. But the words you wrote in your casebook have caused me to reach some conclusions on the death of Will Shakespeare.”

John narrowed his eyes. “Speak plainly, Simon. You have never hedged your words before. Do not start at this late hour.”

I waited an extra second. “Very well. Just before Will’s final decline, you gave him a purgative to cleanse his system. Immediately after, he fell into a coma and never awakened.”

The physician nodded. “If my notes say so. I hoped that it might serve to flush his body of the illness, a forlorn hope, but a method that has worked in the past.”

“Were you aware that Sir Thomas Overbury died in a very similar way to Will, and that it is now proven that the purge used on him was poisoned? The Somersets, husband and wife, go on trial in a few days to answer for this crime.”

“I had heard such, aye. What is this about, Simon?”

“I believe that you poisoned the solution in the purgative to kill Will.”

The surprise could hardly have been written more clearly on John’s face. “But why would I wish him dead? What possible reason would I have to do such a thing?”

“You and Susanna inherited New Place, did you not?”

John Hall stepped back and straightened his shoulders with indignation. “I am a man of medicine, Simon. Life is sacred to me. Besides, I liked Will. We got along well. I repeat: I had no reason to kill him.”

Malcolm Gray joined us. I did not ask whence he came; I was merely grateful to have him with me.

Turning back to John, I gave voice to my accusation. “I have the casebook, John. I know that you gave Will a purgative immediately before his final decline. I know that Sir Thomas Overbury was murdered in the same way. The earl and countess of Somerset will be tried in the next days for that murder.” A thought struck me. “Perhaps you were coerced into helping when the initial attempt to poison Will did not succeed quickly. Will knew things, John, that were a danger to certain powerful men. They were frantic to kill anyone that could endanger them. Perhaps that is the reason that you were so passionately trying to warn me away. Perhaps that is even the reason you were so horribly attacked. You became yet another man who knew things that he should not. I arrest you, John Hall, for the murder of William Shakespeare.”

My old friend stepped back, again aghast. “You cannot be serious, Simon! You have no proof.”

“I have enough to hold you as I gather more.”

“But what of your daughter?”

I struggled with my answer, torn between duty and Mary. But if I left John free, he might well flee the town, and then Mary would be in just as bad a condition. My daughter won. “You have always been an honourable man, John, though recent events would argue otherwise. I will trust you not to attempt to flee. I will set Malcolm upon you if you do.”

John glanced up and down at my giant friend. “Have we met before?” he asked.

“Not that I am aware of, Master Hall.”

Malcolm turned toward the door. “I will wait out here, Simon, if you should need me.”

I returned to Mary’s bedside. Peg grasped my hand as I sat down.

“What has caused this sudden change in you?” she asked.

I hesitated before answering. Something deep within was troubling me, but I could not fathom exactly what it was. “I saw many things in London, Peg, many things that caused me to look at life differently.” I paused. “Let me just say that I peeked beyond the curtain at the world that made Will what he became. And I understand it better now.”

“I am glad,” she answered, but there was still much scepticism in her eyes. Only time could dispel those clouds.

But, at that moment, my mind was still wrapped around the matter of Will’s death. I could not see how I could be wrong. The coincidence was just too much to ignore. Just as with Overbury, Will was given a purgative and then began his fatal decline. And, after Will died, John was the next man to fall victim to a horrible assault. And, as I had pointed out, it was John who first and most insistently tried to persuade me to abandon the enquiry. Everything pointed towards John. I did not like it, but I could not avoid it.

Poor Susanna, I thought. She would be devastated that her husband had a hand in her father’s death. Anne Shakespeare would not care. Her passion for Will had cooled many years ago. She might even think that John had done her a boon.

Yet when I looked at him, caring so fervently for Mary, I could not reconcile the man to the deed. “Peg, will you fetch some water?”

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious as to my purpose, but she went to the door, only to be nearly bowled over by a panic-stricken Henry Smythe, Stratford bailiff.

“Simon! What have you done?” he exclaimed, pausing long enough to bend over and prop his hands on his knees, so out of breath was he.

“What do you mean, Henry?” But I knew what he meant.

“You…and that…behemoth…from London. Arresting…John Hall! How dare you?”

Peg, who had crossed the room to my side, now drew back, shock writing a frown across her face. “Simon? Why would you arrest John?”

“Why indeed?” John echoed.

No matter how much I would have wished another time and place for this, I had to answer her, and Henry Smythe too. “The evidence indicates that John participated in Will’s death. While I believe that he was not the only one involved, he is the one that I have the most evidence against. Given enough time, I believe he will lead us to his fellow conspirators.”

“What evidence?” But it was not Henry who challenged me; rather it was Peg.

“It is best that I not talk about it now. There will be time enough when he appears before the justice of the peace.”

“Which is me,” Henry reminded me. “So, stop this nonsense and tell me.”

I certainly did not want to explain my actions in Susanna’s presence. I took Henry by the elbow and led, or rather dragged him from the room.

“Simon, I have sent for Sir Walter. If you are going to continue this nonsense, he will have to be involved. Now, tell me why you think John Hall killed his father-in-law.”

I began to outline the basic elements that I had drawn together. I could not tell him all. But I was willing to tell him as much as possible.

But then the door burst open and Susanna Hall strode into the room, sparks flashing from her eyes. She walked right up to me and struck me with her open hand.

“How dare you!” she screamed as I reeled back, the sting of her hand radiating throughout my face. “John Hall is your friend, and he loved my father. Your bitterness has finally stolen your common sense. No wonder Peg took up with my father,” she spat at me. “You are a madman.”

I took a step towards her, for what purpose I do not know. I do not think that I would have struck her.

Whatever my purpose, what happened next surprised all of us. Peg moved like lightning and planted herself between Susanna and me.

“Do not speak about what you do not know,” Peg retorted. “Simon Saddler is a good man. Even you, Susanna Hall, should know that Simon has excellent reason to suspect John or he would not make such an accusation.” She stopped and swallowed hard. “I cannot see that John would have done this thing, but I know my husband.”

For a moment, it seemed that Peg was going to strike Susanna, but then an even more amazing thing happened.

Henry Smythe bounded into our midst. “Stop this right now!” Our bailiff was finally taking charge. “Susanna, you will desist. Simon was duly approved in this investigation. He even sought the approval of Sir Walter Devereux, which was given. While his enquiry has been somewhat unorthodox, he has been successful in these matters far more often than he has failed. If he believes that he has reason to suspect John, then I have no choice but to bow to his wishes.” I smiled at his reversal.

“But Master Smythe,” Susanna began.

“No, Susanna,” John ventured. “Henry is correct. The only way that my name can be truly cleared is through an official hearing.” He turned to me. “You realize, Simon, that having my name connected to such a deed could end my work as a physician.”

I nodded. “I do not do this lightly, John.” Every word he spoke went to the logic of his position. But the casebook told the tale. Still, if John did not kill Shakespeare, I truly had failed.

Henry stopped Susanna’s coming protest with a raised hand. “I am sorry, Susanna. Coming so soon after your father’s death, I know that this is difficult for you. But Simon brings with him a man, Malcolm Gray, in the service of Sir Edward Coke, the Lord Chief Justice. I just asked Master Gray if he concurred with Simon’s actions. He said that he had seen the evidence and that he did, in fact, concur. I cannot overrule Simon, despite the fact that I believe he is completely wrong. As much as I regret it, we must wait until Sir Walter arrives to resolve this.”

Susanna’s mouth flattened into a straight, angry line. “He had best resolve this. My husband is a good man, who would never participate in such a plot.” And with that, she stormed from Hamnet’s house.

Henry left as well, and John returned to caring for Mary.

My cousin stood, stunned, in the middle of his own house. “Simon, if you are wrong, you will have done great damage to our families.”

“Hamnet, if I am wrong, I will be all the happier. The roots to Will’s death are underneath a tree far greater than any we have in Warwickshire. Much of it can never be told, but the evidence against John is persuasive. I was astonished, but when I considered all that I knew, the way pointed clearly. I care not about my reputation, only justice for Will.”

Hamnet opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then spoke. “A fortnight ago, you would have been the obvious suspect in Will’s murder. And now you cry of justice for him? What did you learn in London, Simon?”

I did not answer right away. I walked to a window and looked out into Henley Street. “I learned how the laws that I have spent most of my life enforcing are but words on parchment, how they only apply to those without money, preferment, or titles. I learned how Will became who he was. I learned finally that he was not totally to blame for his actions. The court, dear cousin, operates with its own set of rules, rules that bear little resemblance to those that we commoners must follow.”

Hamnet shook his head. “And this surprises you? Come, ­Simon, you are no freshling just out of the nest. You fought in the Low Countries. You have dealt with nobles throughout your life.”

“We harbour within each of us a need to believe that those who lead our country do so with the best motives,” I said. “I can tell you this, without hesitation, the one nobleman who treated me with respect and honesty was King James. The rest lied at every turn.”

My cousin’s eyes grew wide. “You dealt with the king?”

“It was a necessity, and at his request.”

And those same eyes narrowed with doubt. “At his request? Please, Simon. This is too much. Why should the king wish to speak with a simple constable from Stratford?”

“It is true,” came a booming voice from the chamber door. “And I will deal with any man that disputes it.” Malcolm Gray.

“And who is this, Simon?” Hamnet asked.

“This is Malcolm Gray, and he answers to only one man in England.”

“So, tell me, Malcolm Gray, what services do you provide the king?” A taunting tone colored Hamnet’s voice, unusual for him, but this entire affair was unusual.

But Malcolm just smiled. “The sort of services that he does not advertise. But be at ease, Master Saddler. I have been privy to the same information as Simon, and I agree with him that John Hall must have done this thing. The evidence only allows for one conclusion.”

I nodded, though doubt still rang in my head like a church bell.

Hamnet just shook his head. “I am not learned in these things. Simon has a good record of sorting out such affairs. But I would have wagered my house that John Hall does not have murder in him.”

Malcolm turned to me then. “Come, I will see you home. You will not be very popular in Stratford once word of this spreads.”

“No, I will stay here with my daughter. I could not sleep if I tried.”

“Then I will stay with you.”

Before I could protest, Malcolm snatched a chair and set it outside the chamber where Mary lay.

Hamnet grimaced, but made no comment.

I went back in and joined Peg, Margaret and John. Peg and I did not speak, but we held hands and watched our youngest daughter. Margaret sat on the floor before us, and occasionally would look up at us with a brief smile.

At one point she took the time to pat us on our shoulders. “She will be fine, Father. Just wait and see.” She squeezed my hand and Peg’s, still enmeshed. “You do not know how I have hoped for you to settle your differences.”

I wanted to be as certain as Margaret, but little Mary lay there, so pale, so ill, I could scarce give her sister credence.

We talked again, Peg and I, and Margaret, as we once had, as a family. There were yet things bothering me in this affair. Something nagged at me that I could not name. I reached into my leather bag and removed John’s casebook, that which had been stolen from him.

I heard a laugh behind me. Turning, I saw a bemused smile on John’s face.

“You have a good memory, Simon,” he said. “I am surprised that you remembered how to read my notes.”

And that was all it took. John’s words snatched me from a half-slumber and jerked me upright. I considered it from all perspectives. Suddenly, it all made sense. “Listen,” I said to Peg, Margaret and John. “There are things that I must tell you.”

They listened and I spoke, far into the night.

———

Later, after the midnight, I wondered idly if Malcolm had found sleep. But once I heard a booming laugh that could only have been him. Perhaps he and Hamnet had struck up a friendship. And before I realized it, dawn appeared.

“Simon?”

My cousin Hamnet.

I stretched, hoping to rid my bones of the stiffness gained from sleepless nights and long rides. “Yes?”

“A word with you.”

I cocked my head and looked at him with a question in my eye, but I squeezed Peg’s hand and went to see what Hamnet needed.

He wasted no time in telling me. “Your man, Matthew, just sent word. Some rogues from London are trying to enter your wool shop. He has held them off so far, and Malcolm went immediately to his aid. You should go. I will keep vigil with Peg, and if there is any change, we will send for you straightaway.”

Rogues from London? Only one name sprang to mind.

———

And I was correct. The gang of four men was headed by George Wilkins. Matthew stood before the door to our shop, his sword drawn, daring them to move against him. I glanced around quickly, and just as quickly found what I was seeking. Malcolm’s great bulk was in a doorway, in the shadows. I had no doubt that were Wilkins to charge at Matthew, Malcolm would make short work of them.

“George Wilkins!” I shouted as I appeared in the street. “What business have you here?”

Wilkins turned, saw me, and sneered. “The earl of Southampton sends his regards. He sent us to collect damages for the harm you did him.”

“He should have come himself. I would have added yet more to my account.”

“Get this hired boy out of our way. We have no quarrel with him.”

Matthew bristled at the description. “Any quarrel you have with Simon includes me as well.”

“And me,” came a surprising voice.

Ben Jonson.

I could not be certain, but I suspected that Ben had ridden in with Wilkins. To this day, I do not know why I immediately thought the worst of Ben. But he cured me of that with his next action.

“George Wilkins, leave this town and take your scum with you. Southampton deserved what Simon gave him.”

Wilkins backed up a step, uncertain suddenly of the odds. I was fairly sure that he had not yet detected Malcolm in the shadows. With the sun nearly up, people were beginning to venture into the streets. We were attracting an audience, and I was confident that that was not to Wilkins’s liking.

Ben moved to join me. “I stand with you, Simon. In this and in everything.” He faced Wilkins, now with a dagger in his hand.

“You are a fool, Jonson. Southampton will withdraw his support of your pension.”

“Let Southampton do what he wishes, George. If he was so brave, he would be here himself instead of sending a scoundrel like you. Come, it is four to three now. When we finish with your companions, we will draw and quarter you. Simon and I know exactly how to do it.”

I winced. We did indeed, in the Low Countries, and it was not a memory that I wished revived.

“Step aside,” came a voice I was coming to know well. “I will deal with them by myself.” Malcolm Gray emerged from the shadows onto Henley Street.

Malcolm dwarfed even Ben Jonson. Wilkins’s companions looked to each other, then threw down their swords and ran.

“Cowards!” Wilkins spat after them. He turned back to Malcolm. “Another time,” he said. “Keep looking over your shoulder, Saddler. If not me, then someone else will be on your trail. Nobles have long memories.” With that, he was gone.

Ben turned to me then. “He’s right, Simon. Southampton will not forget.”

“Am I to be arrested when I am next in London?”

“No. I am told that the king laughed heartily when he heard how you had dealt with Southampton. Of all of his courtiers, Wriothesley is one that fawns perhaps too much. Even the king’s patience has limits.”

“Why did you come to Stratford?”

Ben shrugged. “Wilkins, who thinks that I’m merely one of Southampton’s minions, told me that he had been instructed to settle scores with you. I decided that I needed some fresh country air.”

“Ben, I still believe that you played a role in Will’s death.”

He brushed my comment aside. “You should look elsewhere for Will’s murderer.”

“I have,” I answered. “But I hesitate to speak of it yet. Sir Walter Devereux, sheriff of Warwickshire, is on his way here to assist our justice of the peace in sorting through this affair.”

Ben’s eyebrows nearly jumped from his face. “You have discovered the murderer? Who? Who is it?”

Firmly, I shook my head. “I will say nothing more until Sir Walter arrives.”

“Still as stubborn as always,” Ben said, sardonically.

“But not for much longer.” I knew that if Ben stayed in Stratford, he would hear about John Hall virtually within minutes. I just chose not to be the man to enlighten him.

Matthew appeared at my elbow. “Should you ever need me, Simon, I will be there.”

“Of that,” I replied, “I have no doubt. Now go see to our shop. Hopefully, we have seen all the trouble we are going to on this day.”

But such was a forlorn thought.