The Book of Air and Shadows

on the rest of the Crosettis, at least for a while, as well as turning up the heat on various Russian mobsters. But that was only a temporary solution, as he pointed out. The tale of the treasure would spread in the underworld, and before long, some other fiend would take a crack at it.
    Crosetti at last said, “Okay, let’s say I agree. What am I supposed to do? Wander around England indefinitely? With what for money?”
    “You have savings, don’t you?” asked Mary Peg.
    “Oh, right! I worked like a dog for that money. It’s for school and I’m damned if I’m going to blow it on some crazy idea.”
    “I could cash in some of the IRA,” she suggested.
    “What, and live on the pension? That’s nuts! You barely get by as it is.”
    “Money is not a problem,” I said, and they all looked at me as if I had declared the Earth flat. “No, seriously,” I said. “I’m loaded. And I would be glad to take Albert to England as my guest.”
    T HE S IXTH C IPHERED L ETTER (F RAGMENT 1)
    wherefore I should have anie favour of you? For I have gone against my Kinge but I sweare my Lord on anie thinge you shall name that I knew it not and was betrayed and made traitour by the wiles of my Lord Dunbarton as I have told.
    Now shall I relate how came it I was myself betrayed and so to throw myselfe upon yr. Lordship’s mercie. Twas in the winter now passed some days after Candelmas I thinke when I did spie Mr Piggott walking on Fenchurch Street. I made to greet him but he signed me privilie that I should not and he walketh on. Yet I was not to be uzed so for I had been many weekes without word from my Lord D. or indeed Mr Piggott and it vexed me sore that they should slight me thus as I had been to much trouble for theyre plottinges. I followed him and he turned him toward the river at St. Clements Lane and he enters a publicke house called The Lamb, a low dirty dark place and I found me a sweeper lad and gave him a tester and bade him go in and buy him ale and mete with it and sit him as near as he could by Mr Piggott, who I described as well as I could and come out & tell what he had heard and who the man met with if any & if he did well he should have another 6d.
    Soe wait I in shadowes under eaves & after a time out cometh the lad and he tells me my man met with Harry Crabbe and John Simpson & they spake low but he heard money passed in a purse. We wait in shadowes & soone out comes Mr Piggott & in a litel comes two ill-favoured men, one with his nose cut off & wore a leather one in its playce & the other a verie beare, black of face but trumperie dressed with a longe yellow plume to his hat. The lad pointeth now privilie, telling these be the men he met with. And what manner of men are these, I asked him, and he replies, Crabbe (he of the false nose) is well-named for he loveth the crabs so much he feedes them on men & this Simpson is called John the Baptist heerabouts, for he baptises in Thames water & better than a bischop too, for those he baptiseth sin no more in this world; by which he meant he drowneth them. Quoth I: did you then heere nothynge of theyre plots? He saith: yea, I heard that the playere must die & Simpson saith ten angels maketh but one angel & must give ten more if you want yon lad Richard in the river bye him & your man agreeth but with bad grace and giveth over more & may you my master, be generous as he. Soe I payde him and left that street much afeared & knowing not where to turn for aide.
    With my harte thus confuzed I got me over river to the Globe & set to my taskes there, but verie melancholie & otheres of that company saw & sence there be no company lyke a company of plaieres for gossip I was butt of verie much bayting that day, one saith hee is in love, another nay, he hath learnt he hath the pox, yet another nay, he hath lost all at cartes & shall pawn his cloake & hanger at the Jewes: til I threw a stool at Saml. Gilbourne, and soon thereafter Thos. Pope & I were at daggeres nearlie, when Mr Burbadge and some otheres bade us stop upon feare of ducking, yet we would not & were thrown in the river for oure owen goode.
    Then we had the tragedie of Hamlet that after-noone & I was set to plaie a lord attendant on the King & come out with them alle in Actus Primus, scena ii, but when I look out at the groundlings in the penny-places my harte near stopps in my breast for there at the fore stood those two villains from the Lamb & I sware I could not move more than a painted man on a