The Book of Air and Shadows

ancient document is my property.”
    I said that I certainly would and requested that he do the same. “Naturally,” he said, “and any other papers of same type, of course.”
    “What do you mean by other papers?”
    “I have some information that when the Bracegirdle manuscript was found there were other historic papers that the people who sold to Bulstrode did not deliver. This is not standard business practice, I think. Tell me, Mr. Mishkin, have you these papers?”
    “I do not.”
    “Should you come across them sometime, you will recall that they are also my property.”
    “I will recall your claim, certainly,” I said, and realized that this was the real reason he had agreed to meet me, the possibility that I had the damned ciphers. I immediately discounted everything he had said.
    “Thank you. I believe that concludes our business. A pleasure.”
    We shook and he extracted a thick roll of currency from his pocket, dropped a twenty on the table. “For the girl,” he said. “For the rest there will be no charge, my treat.” Then he stared at me, his head cocked and eyes narrowed, as we do when comparing something in our sight with a mental image, and the next thing he said almost knocked me off my chair.
    “You know, it is amazing how much you resemble your father.”
    “You know my
father
?”
    “Of course. We have done some investments together, and so forth. In state of Israel.” He stood up and added, “The next time you see him, please offer my sincere regards.”
    He walked out, leaving me gaping.
    T HE F OURTH C IPHERED L ETTER
    My Lord my best obedience to y’r lordship & hartie comendaciouns to you & all youre howse. Tis now long sence I had anie letter from you my lord nor Mr Piggott neither; but you doutlesse hath greater affayres to tend. My newes is that W.S. hath the play finished, that is of Mary Quene of Scotland & hym having told me soe I begged him let me reade it most instant. First hee saith nay let me fayre-copie it mayhap there shalbe correctiones as he oft doth make but I beyng further importunate hee yieldeth. Soe I read hys foule papers. My lord I thinke we hath mistooke oure man: unlese I judge wronglie hee hath not made what wee comanded hym. But you shall see for I have heere wrote down from memorie its burthen & the matter of som speches; for hee would not lett me copie of it even a line.
    First comes a prologue that saith this play treateth two grete queenes in contentioun wherein the fate not alone of kingdomes is at hazard but of sowles: with strifes of church oure Englishe state is done/Yet as you pitie her who lost so also pitie her who won. Or some thinge lyke. So has he don. We fancied he would shew Elizabeth arbitrary & tyrannous & he doth; yet sighing for her barren womb & that another woman’s sonne shal have her kingdome, that verie woman that she must slay & he cryes pitie for her lonlynesse who must from policie kill the onlie human creature fit to be her friende.
    We fancied he would shew Mary as a goode Christian lady to stir oure anger at her fate & he doth; yet as a lustie recklesse self-destroyer too. She goes into the plot that ruines her with open eies; for (as he tells it) she sees Babbington is a foole, she knows well her messages are reade by Walsingham yet proceeds with the matter all the same. And for why? She despaires of rescue & cares no longer if she be Quene of England or Scotland or anie where if she can but breathe free aire and ride. From her window she espies a gentlewoman a-hawking & wishes to change place with her, trade all her titles for a little breze &c. She repentes her wickedness of former tymes yet thinkes her she is forgiven it by her popish superstitiones. Though a prisoner she vauntes herselfe & despiseth Elizabeth the Quene for her shriveled womb & haveing no venerie & saith Grete Bess thy mayden-hoodee a faster prison be than these my bars. Boastes too she hath hadde love where the Quene of England hath naught but the shewe of it. Further he saith of Quene Mary that the evidence brought gainst her be false in parte; for he saith Mary ne’er plotted the death of Elizabeth but onle wish’d to scape her power & be free. Soe Walsingham sheweth herein as a perjured knave.
    On religion: he hath a parte for Mary’s chaplain onne Du Preau who hath contention upon the right faith of Christianes with Sir Amyas & I thinke doth gain the daie if but by a little. He putteth in low clownes, one a Puritan & t’ other a Papist