The Last Confession of Thomas Hawkins - [29]

She smiled. ‘I was curious to see if Mr Howard’s threats were genuine. So we fixed his wife to a hook and dangled her in front of him. Fleet’s brother ensured that Howard learned of the meeting. I must say we did not expect events to turn quite so violent. Poor Budge lost a tooth. And he had such a charming face.’

Budge gave a lopsided grin.

‘I have grown tired of Mr Howard’s insolence. Samuel Fleet would have resolved the matter in a heartbeat.’

I thought of the deal I’d made with James Fleet – his promise of one simple meeting, a chance to earn my own money. He had known all along that Charles Howard would attack Henrietta’s carriage. Had known too that I was being tested to replace his late brother as the queen’s private spy.

‘I am not Samuel Fleet, Your Majesty.’

‘No indeed,’ she laughed. ‘Let us be kind and call Mr Fleet an eccentric.’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘And a little too clever. You, Mr Hawkins, are just clever enough.’

It was not the finest compliment I had ever received. But under the circumstances, I had to agree with her. If anything, she was being generous.

The queen picked up a sheet of paper. ‘Mr Howard must be stopped. Here is a list of his favourite taverns. Gaming houses. Brothels.’ She handed the list to Budge, who handed it to me.

A hollow feeling grew in my chest. ‘Your Majesty. I cannot… I am not an assassin…’

The queen looked astonished. ‘For shame, sir! I am not asking you to murder the man – what an extraordinary notion. He’s the brother of the Earl of Suffolk. You must befriendhim, Mr Hawkins.’

Befriend him? I thought of Howard tearing at my throat, snarling in fury. Upon reflection, perhaps murdering him was preferable.

‘Once you are on friendly terms, he may let down his guard. You must learn his secrets. Some weakness we might use against him. Seek him out, Mr Hawkins. Apologise for your encounter in the park. Earn his trust. Encourage him in his most bestial behaviour. He knows you are a violent man – he’ll appreciate that.’

‘Your Majesty, I am not in the least violent.’

She plucked another letter from the pile. ‘From Sir Philip Meadows. You stayed at his lodge last autumn, I believe. He says you were a charming guest… until you broke a man’s nose.’

I gritted my teeth. ‘I was provoked, Your Majesty.’

The queen’s eyes glittered. ‘And were you provoked when you shot a man dead, out in Snows Fields?’

She held my gaze. There was a dark, almost eager smile on her lips. The smile of a woman who has just slid a blade between a man’s ribs – softly and with great precision.

‘That… I was forced to defend myself.’

‘The first shot saved your life, of course. But the second?’ She tapped the spot between her brows. Where Kitty had aimed and fired. ‘What do you think, Budge?’

‘He must have stood over him, Your Majesty. Reloaded his pistol. Shot him right between the eyes.’

‘Murder, then.’

Budge threw me an apologetic glance. ‘Your Majesty.’

The blood was pounding in my ears. I stayed silent, breathing hard. I couldn’t trust myself to speak. Any word could be a betrayal.

The queen leaned forward. ‘Do you deny this story? That you shot and killed a man last autumn, out on Snows Fields?’ Her voice was soft – almost tender.

I swallowed, mouth dry. The fire crackled and sparked. On the mantelpiece, a gilded clock struck the quarter hour. ‘No, Your Majesty. I do not deny it.’

There was a long, heavy pause. And then she smiled. Somehow – miraculously – I had given the right answer. The queen studied me closely, as if I were some new addition to the royal zoo. Then she lifted a final paper from the pile – a short note clearly written in haste. ‘Budge has been gathering information on you for some time. This message came to us two hours ago. There is a warrant planned for your arrest at dawn tomorrow, for murder. There is a witness. A disreputable one,’ she conceded. ‘But your neighbour swears he heard you confess to it.’

Burden. ‘Damn him!’ I cried, forgetting myself. ‘That is a lie!’

‘I should hope so,’ the queen replied, amused by my outburst. ‘I should hope you are a good deal more discreet than that, Mr Hawkins. We shall send word to the magistrate to destroy the warrant; Budge will arrange that tonight.’

I bowed deeply. ‘Your Majesty. I am in your debt.’

‘You are indeed.’ The queen pinched her lips. ‘Be sure to repay it, Mr Hawkins. His Majesty is vexed by this tiresome business. And when my husband is vexed we all suffer. You will find something for us, to stop Mr Howard’s threats. Within the week.’

I bowed again in understanding. She did not say it, but the implication was perfectly clear. If I did not solve the king’s vexing problem in the next few days, I could expect no further protection from Gonson and his arrest warrants. There was just one thing I couldn’t fathom. I hesitated, afraid I would cause offense. ‘Your Majesty. Mrs Howard…’

‘You wish to know why I go to this trouble to protect her? Why not let her vile husband drag her from the palace by her fine chestnut hair, hmm?’ She looked away towards the fire. In profile she was suddenly more striking, with her long neck and strong features. I could see it now, how beautiful she had once been. ‘I have grown accustomed…’ she began. Paused. ‘It is a