The Gallows Murders

someone was waiting for me here, how would they know ‘I’d come? I was sure no one had followed me from Ragusa's hovel. Had someone been listening at the door? I walked slowly back to where the sound had come from. Lying on the sand was a pure silver coin of far better quality than the one I had given the old hag. Now, you know old Shallot: even now my coat of arms includes a jackdaw, because if something glitters, I always look. I snatched up the coin, thick and freshly minted. I saw another one, and hurried to do the same. There was a third just near the rim of the pit and, like a fool, I fell into the trap. The oldest coney-catching device in London: put something precious on the floor and it will always attract the greedy eye and fingers.
    I hurried to the rim of the pit. I bent down to pick it up and, as I did so and was half rising, a blow in the small of my back pitched me forward. Now old Shallot is quick of wit with even faster legs, but that blow sent me staggering. I tried to stop myself. I was heading towards the pit, then I was over and falling, my hands flailing the air. I would have gone to the bottom if my fingers had not grasped and held the thick hempen rope which hung there. I hung on for dear life, gibbering with fright. I glanced down. The old wolf hadn't stirred but just stared up curiously. I am sure that, if it could, it would have jumped up and licked my legs. I grasped the rope even tighter, and noticed there was another rope also hanging a few feet away, probably used to lower foodstuffs into the pit. I tried to grab it, hoping I could swing myself up, when I heard a terrible chilling howl. There was another wolf hidden in the cavern running off the pit.

Chapter 6
    I stared down in horror. The newcomer was no mangy animal but a great, grey wolf in all its prime, sharp in ferocity and, from the way it was glaring up at me, mad with hunger. One of those magnificent loping beasts from my blackest nightmare. The great ruff on its shoulders stood up. Its jaws were open, lips curled, tongue slavering at the prospect of a piece of Old Shallot for dinner. I screamed and tried to climb even as the wolf sprang, its teeth narrowly missing the heel of my boot. God knows how I did it. The rope burnt my hands, and it seemed like an age as I pulled myself up towards the rim. Again I glimpsed a flurry, a grey shape jumping up almost beside me, snaking its head, its jaws lashing at me. I screamed and climbed faster, ignoring the burning pain in the palms of my hands. The rope was beginning to fray where it hung over the rim of the pit. I heard a snap as strands began to break. The wolf howled and so did I. It lunged again; this time its teeth scored my boot. I closed my eyes and quietly vowed: no more claret, no more wenches, a life of prayer and fasting! The top of the pit seemed as far off as ever. I was terrified I would slip. I screamed and yelled. Suddenly Benjamin was leaning over and, with Agrippa's help, pulled me out. For a while I just crouched on the ground, sobbing for breath. I vomited out of sheer terror. I crawled back to the rim of the pit and shook my fist at the wolf which stood slavering up at me. ‘’You bastard!'
    I fumbled for the hilt of my dagger but Benjamin pulled me away. "Roger, Roger, for the love of God, it's a dumb animal!' 'It will be a dead dumb animal!' I snarled.
    Agrippa came forward. He kicked a long pole which lay near the door of an outhouse, and I realised by what means I'd been pushed into the pit. He thrust a wineskin at me.
    ‘You’ll not die here, Roger,' he whispered. Drink the wine. Go on,' he urged. 'It's Falernian, the wine of ancient emperors. Pilate drank it when he condemned Christ.'
    I lifted the wineskin and let the fragrant juice lap into my mouth. I gave it back, smiled and promptly fainted.
    When I revived, I was not in the Tower but in a small ale-house on a corner of an alleyway near Thames Street. Agrippa was pushing a piece of burnt cork under my nose. "Faugh!' I cursed, and drove it away. I blinked up at my master who was staring at me anxiously. 'Are you well, Roger?' he asked.
    'Oh yes.' I straightened up and glared round the small taproom. 'It's not every day you are thrown to the wolves!' I tried to get up but my legs felt a little unsteady. ‘How did I get here?' I asked.
    'Agrippa and I helped you down to the Lion Gate. We begged a ride from a carter and brought you here.' Benjamin leaned back against the wall. "Have something to