The Gallows Murders

gold!' I exclaimed.
    There was a second sack made of very thick leather, tied securely at the top. I cut this. Inside were two seals: one the size of a tennis ball, the Great Seal of King Edward V, the other his Privy Seal. I took these under the light and examined them. They were pristine, fresh, as if carved yesterday.
    'Keep them, Roger' Benjamin drew his dagger and pressed its point into the fleshy part of Kemble's neck. ‘You killed Sakker in that lonely corner of the Tower: you placed that viper in our chamber. You are as evil as Satan, but you shall pay for your crimes and your mistakes.' He pushed Kemble out of the door.
    I stopped to douse the candles and torchlights. I took one last, lingering look at that dreadful bed, and closed the secret door. I pushed the wainscoting back until it fell into place with a click, and followed my master along the gallery, down the stairs to the Tower Green.
    Ah well, the rest is bits and pieces. Vetch was summoned. Benjamin ordered Mallow's release, the chief hangman joined us in the gatehouse where Benjamin was ordering astonished guards to place chains on Kemble's wrists and ankles. The chief hangman shuffled his feet with pleasure as Benjamin promised him more gold, as well as a letter of pardon for any offences he may have committed. Mallow was also instructed to inform the others, Benjamin promising that more silver would be left for them to celebrate. He turned to Vetch, who stood like a man pole-axed, and once again explained how he had trapped Kemble.
    The Tower is yours, Vetch. Master Shallot here needs ten good guards, the best you have. The prisoner is to be taken immediately to Windsor. I have other business in the city.'
    I must admit I was surprised as anyone by that, and the old demon jealousy returned: I realised Benjamin was going to the Pelleters to celebrate with the marvellous Miranda. Oh well, that's old Shallot's luck! Night had fallen, but Benjamin insisted the prisoner be taken, so I had no choice. Whilst Benjamin went to bask in Miranda's golden smile, ten of the strongest rogues the Tower could muster rowed a silently weeping Kemble to his judgement at Windsor.
    The night journey was long and cold, and by the time I arrived at Court, I was drunk from the wineskin I carried. The Great Beast and his familiar, the silk-garbed Cardinal, were waiting. With Kemble kneeling before me, I simply described what had happened and how we had trapped him. Oh yes, I was angry at Benjamin, so I emphasised my role even more. The King did not waste words on Kemble. He stepped down from his throne and kicked him in the face, and smiled as the guards took him away.
    Within the week Kemble had been hanged, drawn and quartered. One part of his body was displayed on Windsor' Castle, another at York, one quarter at Winchester, whilst the rest, with his head, were impaled above the Lion Gatehouse at the Tower. I spent days at Windsor being fawned on by Henry as if I were his pet dog. Purses of gold, silk jackets, velveteen boots, the swiftest horse in the stables, the right to draw rents from certain tenements in Suffolk. He patted my hair, and those piggy eyes would glare at me as he tweaked my cheek.
    'Good dog, Shallot,' he growled. 'Sharp as a lurcher. Would you like to go hunting, Roger?'
    Of course, I declined the offer, and the Great Beast bellowed with laughter. (Oh, by the way, he took the gold and destroyed the seals. As for that secret chamber and its grisly contents, he said it was the Princes' grave and so it should remain.) The Cardinal was more reserved. One night at supper I caught him watching me with those black, cunning eyes; it was then that he decided to become my friend and not just my patron. The following day he took me for a walk in the castle gardens, pointed out how the roses always reached full bloom in early autumn, whilst the small apple and pear trees, their branches now bowed, promised a succulent harvest. He talked about affairs of State and the death of Pope Adrian VI and, for the first time ever, I plotted as well as the rest. No one could hear. Dr Agrippa was God knows where, and I, Roger Shallot, the most base-born of rogues, became Wolsey's confidant. Two days later I left Windsor for London. I found Benjamin in the Tower, busy studying a book on alchemy he'd found in the library. I told him about my reception at Windsor, the King's applause and munificence. Benjamin smiled and hugged me. 'And dearest Uncle?' he asked.
    I drew from