Marbeck and the Double Dealer Read Online Free PDF Page B

his head. ‘I thank you for the lesson,
signor
.’
    He walked to the bench where he had left his belongings. There he sheathed his sword and busied himself putting on his doublet. After a moment the fencing master took a few steps towards him. His manner had changed.
    â€˜I think I know you now,’ he said quietly.
    Marbeck buckled on his sword belt, but said nothing.
    â€˜I do not wish to fight you again,’ Ottone added.
    â€˜No?’ Marbeck raised his eyebrows. ‘I think what you mean is it’s I who shouldn’t fight you again. For I might get hurt . . . if the stop should fall off your weapon, perhaps. I’m sure you’d be filled with remorse if that happened.’
    The other gave a thin smile. ‘We understand each other,
signor
,’ he murmured.
    â€˜I wouldn’t be too certain of that,’ Marbeck said.
    At the door he looked back to see Ottone gazing at him, rapier still in his mailed hand. The fencing master raised the weapon in salute, then made him an ironic little bow before turning once again to berate his pupils.
    Later that day, after mulling things over, Marbeck went looking for Nicholas Prout.
    Having failed to find him in places he expected, he was about to go and take some supper when, on impulse, he decided to walk to Aldgate Street, to the church of St Andrew Undershaft. The bell was tolling, and among those gathering for evening service he found Cecil’s messenger in a sombre suit of grey. Prout saw him at the same moment and made as if to hurry into the church, but he wasn’t quick enough. Marbeck waylaid him by the door, and bent close.
    â€˜A word with you, please.’
    â€˜Not now – not here,’ Prout said with a frown. ‘I’ll come to the Dolphin as before.’
    â€˜There’s no need: I want a location, nothing else. Give it me and I’ll be gone.’
    â€˜Whose?’
    â€˜Joseph Gifford’s.’
    The messenger hesitated. ‘I like it not,’ he said after a moment. ‘There’s bad blood between you and he . . . I sense a settling of scores.’
    â€˜Now, I thought you knew me better.’
    â€˜Do I?’ The other met Marbeck’s eye. People moved past them into the church. Overhead, the bell still clanged.
    â€˜To the devil with your punctilious ways, Prout,’ Marbeck said. It had been a long day, he was hungry and his temper was short. ‘I want to see him – it’s important.’
    â€˜It always is, isn’t it?’ The messenger sighed. ‘I’ll give you known whereabouts, but in the morning I’ll be making report of it. No offence, I’m—’
    â€˜You’re arming yourself,’ Marbeck finished. ‘God forbid that anyone should hold you to account if the man was found with his throat cut – or even with a black eye. Is that it?’
    Prout bristled. ‘You’ll not use God’s name in that manner, Marbeck,’ he said. ‘Not here, at my church—’
    â€˜Then tell me where to find Gifford, and I’ll be gone.’
    A pause, then: ‘You’ll have a long walk ahead of you, I fear: he’s in Dover. Try Mother Sewell’s house, near the castle. Now – can I go to worship?’
    Morning found Marbeck stepping out of the back door of the Dolphin Inn and walking to the stable. It was barely dawn, but the ostler was already up. When the door creaked open, he gazed in surprise at the man who entered, carrying a light pack.
    â€˜Master Sands – d’you want me to fetch Cobb?’
    â€˜I’ll do it, Zachary,’ Marbeck said. ‘Though if you’ll look out a bag of feed for him, one I can tie on my saddle, there’s a two-penny piece for you.’
    Zachary peered through rheumy eyes. ‘You going far?’
    â€˜Middlesex, on business.’
    The old man shuffled away to do his bidding, while Marbeck went to the stalls. Soon he had loosed a fine