Page 35 of Murder in Blackfriars

“You know much about it,” I observed.

“I’ve read as much as I could about this area and asked those who’ve lived here.” Daniel shrugged. “Never hurts to prepare oneself.”

He held himself stiffly, which I’d come to know meant he was nervous. He and Mr. Fielding did not see eye to eye about many things, though they shared a common upbringing and foster parent.

Also, this journey was about Daniel’s origins. He was understandably tense about what we might discover.

Mr. Fielding had indicated he’d meet us at the west entrance, but at first we saw no sign of him. Daniel, growing more and more on edge, had just growled to me that we should investigate the house in West Street ourselves, when I caught sight of him.

Mr. Fielding strode around the corner of a hedge on a walk a little way beyond us, closer to the lake.

As he did so, two burly men sprang at him from behind the hedge, dragged Mr. Fielding off the path, and proceeded to beat him with their fists.

11

Daniel was off in a flash, sprinting down the slope toward the lake and the melee. I followed as quickly as I could.

Alas for his assailants, Mr. Fielding was not the docile man of the cloth he appeared to be. He spun from his attackers’ grips before bestowing swift and precise blows on the surprised toughs. They found his elbows in their faces, his handmade leather boots connecting with abdomens.

By the time Daniel arrived to assist, the assailants had thought better of their situation and took to their heels. They dashed back along the path that skirted the lake, then across a field toward a far fence.

Daniel and Mr. Fielding watched while the two men scaled the iron railings and disappeared back into the streets.

I reached Daniel, breathing hard with exertion. “Who on earth werethey?” I demanded. “Are you all right, Mr. Fielding?”

Mr. Fielding pulled a pristine handkerchief from his pocket and touched it to a bleeding cut above his lip. “I will be. As towho they were, I do not know. They followed me all the way from Shadwell. I thought I’d given them the slip at last, but apparently not. I apologize, dear lady, if they frightened you.”

“I am made of sterner stuff than that,” I assured him. “I am more worried for you. Why should two ruffians follow you about? I doubt they thought to rob you. It would be a lot of trouble for the few coins a vicar has to rub together.”

“I’m certain they had more on their minds than stealing.” Mr. Fielding removed the handkerchief from his lip and frowned at the scarlet stain on it. “They meant to incapacitate me, either to encourage me to stay out of their territory or to let me die of my wounds. I’m not certain.” The anger in Mr. Fielding’s tone did not bode well for the toughs.

“You believe it defense of their home ground?” Daniel asked. “A clergyman is no threat to them, unless they knew who you really were.”

“Hired, probably.” Mr. Fielding dabbed at his wound again, then folded the handkerchief back into his pocket. “What have you stirred up, Mrs. Holloway? I look into a deceased woman, long gone, and suddenly bullies are following me and attacking when they have the chance. Who was this lady? A spy for queen and country?”

“A woman someone wanted me to know about,” Daniel answered before I could. He studied the route the ruffians had taken to flee. “I’m not certain if it was from benevolence or to lure me into a place where I’d be unwanted and possibly a target.”

Mr. Fielding brushed dust from his jacket and righted his clerical collar, which had become twisted in the fight. “Well, it was me who bore the brunt this time. Tell me the truth, brother dear, before I relieve my pique on you, as I did when we were lads.”

“I remember.” Daniel rubbed his cheek as though recalling their scraps. “You were fast with your fists, but I was sturdier.” He switched his gaze to the gate through which we’d entered. “It is possible that this Mrs. Kerr had the keeping of me when I was a lad. Not that I remember anything about it.”

Mr. Fielding’s eyes went wide, and he swung to me in impatience. “Why the devil didn’t you say so? I would have asked more probing questions, uncovered everything there was to know about her.”

“Would you have?” Daniel asked, while I gazed back at Mr. Fielding, unwavering under his annoyance. “You and I have fallen out time and again over the years. You might have kept something of importance from me out of spite, or perhaps to gain some sort of control over me.”

Mr. Fielding stared at him, lips parted, then he snapped his mouth shut and gave both of us a fearsome scowl. “Dear God, the pair of you. I’d stomp away in righteous indignation if I wasn’t so curious.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Daniel said with conviction. “If you’re curious, then lead us to this house and satisfy your interest.”

I could see that Mr. Fielding was not as put out as he pretended, only miffed that I hadn’t confided all Daniel’s secrets to him. I noted that he hadn’t denied Daniel’s accusation that he’d withhold information for his own purposes, which told me he’d done so in the past.

Daniel told him the tale now as we walked back toward the gate, about Banks and how he’d tried to approach Daniel and had been murdered before he could reach him. I then related how I’d interviewed Mr. Ramsay in Mr. Banks’s rooms, and what he’d told me. Mr. Fielding listened with interest and growing concern.

“The two of you must indeed have stirred a hornet’s nest,”he said. “One man murdered, me followed and attacked. Well, let us see what we can find out.”

We exited through the gate and back across the small bridge over the canal.

The house in West Street Mr. Fielding guided us to was a small but tidy redbrick edifice. With two stories plus attic, it reposed in the middle of a row of equally tidy houses.