A Dagger to the Heart (Monday Afternoon Jan. 2)- Xmas 1677

[Charles Whitehurst]

It would surprise no one to see Charles Whitehurst dressed in his uniform this day, let alone any day.   He had asked his closest confidante, Lieutenant Sam Gillis, to accompany him along with another trooper, mostly to guard against foul play.  He was off to see a certain weapon smith about a certain dagger.

The dagger in question was hidden inside the breast of his tunic for safekeeping.  This day would require a combination of bluff and bluster to accomplish his ends.  By the stern look on his face, he was prepared to succeed.  Upon entering the familiar shop, Langdon looked to rid the place of any customers before stationing his troopers at the door to prevent unwanted company.  He looked for the familiar proprietor, now armed with warnings from a ghost.

[Aria]

There were no other customers in the shop. A bell chimed as Charles entered and a few minutes later, the old weaponsmith shuffled out of the back room. He recognized Lord Langdon and wondered if he still had the dagger or if he had given it back to the lady who owned it. Noticing the guards at the door, Percival remembered the soldier's last visit, when some idiots had robbed a lady around back. Was he just being cautious, or was there a criminal on the loose nearby? He did look quite serious.

 

“Good morning, my lord,” he said. Glancing toward door, he asked: “Is there trouble out on the street?” If so, it wouldn't be the first time, or the last.

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

"Good morning," the Earl replied politely.  No need to dispense with decorum even though some serious business was planned. His favorite interrogation techniques were a combination of bluff and threat.

 "The trouble is not in the street today.  I brought along a couple soldiers in case I might need to make an arrest." He pulled forth the dagger in question to display it to the weaponsmith again.  "There is a story I need tell you sir," Charles began officially.  "On New Year's Eve I was set upon but a couple of men.  These men were so brazen as to attempt a crime in the very palace of the King and amongst the finest soldiers in England that were at my command.."  He paused to study the face of the older man as he spoke, looking for signs of fear that might signal his complicity.

"Imagine my surprise when the ruffians wanted this dagger.  One is dead and one is rotting in the dungeons beneath the palace."  That part was true -- was not the Lion both dead and rotting in the dungeons?  "I heard quite the tale from the one.  It seems no one knew I had the dagger except you, myself, one lady, and the employer of these men.  Your name came up and your involvement was made plain to me.  I am a man slow to anger master smith.  The one thing I cannot abide are weasels that lie to my face.  I have no remorse in arresting such men and leaving them to rot in cells, never to see the light of day again.  The man in question gave me false information initially and I did not forgive it, even when he told me the truth later to save his hide.  It was too late.  You have one chance to tell me the truth about the importance of this dagger and the person to whom you revealed your information.  I will know if you are lying and you will get no second chance.  You will be arrested for conspiracy to commit murder upon an officer of the King.  You will not likely ever see the outside of prison unless it is to see the hangman.  If, however, you tell me all that you know about the dagger and confirm the name of the person that ordered the attack, then I will take my vengeance on him instead of you.  His capture means freedom for you.  If not ..." he looked around the shop, "you stand to lose everything.  I give you this one chance and one chance only to do the right thing.  If you need more time, I will give you the rest of your life in Fleet prison to think about it."  Langdon tried to keep a cold and serious stare at the old man, as if weighing just choking the truth out of him.

[Aria]

An arrest? There was nobody else in the shop. Maybe Lord Langdon was expecting someone to bring in a stolen weapon, hoping to sell it quickly. Or did he know more than Percival thought he did?

 

The old man listened to the tale the Earl wove. It sounded preposterous, but there could be some truth to it. As to his own involvement, he had been … and still was … innocent of ill intentions. He had simply done what he had been asked to do, unaware that the man who wanted the information would resort to violence. He didn't believe that the gentleman who had asked for his assistance would be stupid enough to reveal Percival's name to hired thugs, especially inept ones.

 

The polite smile remained on his face and it was curiosity rather than fear that shown in his eyes. “Men will say anything to save their skin. If you mentioned my name, of course they would blame me whether they knew me or not. Are you absolutely certain that the thieves were telling the truth? They don't sound very smart, attacking you in the palace.” He looked pointedly at Charles' uniform. “I'm surprised they even got past the King's guards.”

 

The wrinkles on his ancient face crinkled as his smile broadened. Had the young lord known there were so many holes in his story? The wisdom of Percival's venerable age made detecting such things easy. “Would you like to tell me what really happened? I will be honest with you whether you do or not, but I hope that you show me the same courtesy."

[Charles Whitehurst]

Charles far preferred to threaten and arrest.  It took a great deal of self restraint to not place the old man under arrest.  The Major surmised that the old man would tell him everything after a day or two in a dungeon.  He supposed he could still do that ... after he gave the man an opportunity.

"The men got far further than they should have in the palace.  In fact, they became a risk to the King's safety.  So, master smith, I will tell you what is really happening.  What is really happening is that someone will stop at nothing to get this dagger.  I do not know why and I am not sure who.  It is a nice dagger surely, but there should be no reason why someone would attempt murder to retrieve it.  It cannot be that valuable.  All I know is that the attacks began when I brought you the dagger.  No one knew of it but you, so it is obvious that you told the villain or you are the villain yourself.  Perhaps you would care to enlighten me."

[Aria]

The old weaponsmith didn't expect Lord Langdon to admit that the story about the attack had been a lie. Perhaps it had not been, but he doubted that his own name had come up. Nor did the young lord insist that it had. Instead, he told him what Percival believed was the truth, that somebody wanted the dagger enough to kill for it. This he did not understand. If his contact's master had wanted it so badly, why had he not instructed him to keep it when he was restoring it, and say that it had been stolen? Something much more sinister must be going on, and the smith was glad he was no longer a part of it.

 

He hobbled out from behind the counter and over to the display case where he had first shown Charles the dagger that was similar to his. The place where it had been was now empty. “Two years ago, a man came into my shop with a sketch of your dagger and said that his master wished for me to make a replica to display in my store. He said that his master was looking for a specific dagger that had belonged to one of his ancestors and that he was hoping if my customers saw the replica, they would recall seeing others like it. He told me that I would be able to identify the dagger he was looking for by the initials 'T H” on the bottom of one of the guards.

 

“When I saw yours, I knew that it was the one he sought. The servant told me to contact him if I found it, and that was what I did. I told him that you had come in with it and that it belonged to a lady. I thought that the master would offer to buy it, but when that young lady was robbed out back, I wondered if he was resorting to more nefarious means to obtain it. He might have thought that she was the one who owned the dagger. But I couldn't be sure, so I said nothing.

 

“The servant came in a few weeks later, picked up the replica, and said that my services were no longer needed by his master, who had already left court, but that he himself would have some weapons for me to repair in the spring. He never told me his name or the name of his master, but if you have a message for him, you can leave it with me and I will give it to him when he comes in again. He will probably know how to get in touch with his master, even if he no longer works for him.”

 

Percival shuffled back behind the counter. “I doubt that your dagger belonged to the ancestor of the man who wants it. If it did, he would try to buy it and not hire thugs to steal it from you.”

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

If the smith was the villain, he would have kept the dagger and come up with an excuse for losing it.  As such, Langdon was willing to believe that the smith was merely an accomplice, or an innocent party.

"Where was this man staying?  Where did you send the note about my dagger?"  Perhaps he could learn more from the lodgings of this servant.  "Describe what he looks like," the Earl instructed.  "Did he have a Scottish, Irish, or Welsh accent?  Was he well dressed and educated like a gentleman, or was he clearly a servant?"

[Aria]

“I don't know where he was staying. I only saw him when he came into the shop. He told me to give the note to a boy who stopped by and stood by the door for a few minutes twice a week. It was a different boy each time, around the ages of ten to twelve.

 

“The man was tall and always finely dressed. He had dark hair and brown eyes and spoke in a cultured voice, just like all the other toffs who visit my shop. He had no specific accent. Because he spoke of his master, I thought of him as a servant, but he looked and acted as noble as you."

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

"Is it not curious that this man went to such efforts to hide his actions?" Langdon asked rhetorically.  "Does a man about legitimate business go to such lengths?"

The villain had covered his tracks well, confounding the investigation, if the smith was to be believed.  Blazing Cannons!  The Earl needed more.  "How old is this man?"  It was one of the few remaining unasked questions that might be of assistance in finding the culprit.  "Would you recognize any of the boys if you were to see them again?  I need to learn where they delivered the message.  You would recognize the man surely?"  Charles had a thought of bringing the smith to court to watch for the man.  If the villain was a lord, he might be identified privately.

"There must be more that you can tell me.  The life of a lady is in peril.  I care not for mine.  Tell me more of these daggers then.  There must be something very special about my dagger and those initials.  Tell me all that you know.  There must be a reason why this blade is so important."

[Aria]

Percival shrugged. “I see all types come into my shop. I have long ceased to wonder about their motives. Many of my customers don't tell me their names. Sending boys to collect messages seemed a bit odd, but I figured he was too busy to come by himself."

 

The old man thought for a moment when Charles asked how old his contact was.  “He was about my son's age, late thirties or early forties. And yes, I would recognize him if I saw him again. I know nothing else about the dagger or whose initials are on it. I do remember one of the urchins who came in here recently. He wasn't the one I gave the message to, but he might be able to tell you more. He stood out from the others because he had a little girl with him, probably his sister.  Both of them had blazing red hair. In fact, I saw the two of them just this morning as I was walking to the shop. They were begging on the strand and might still be there.”

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

At first the Earl began to suspect that his own little Frances might have been the urchin at issue.  Fortunately, she had no red hair, nor the boys that ran with her.  "How many blocks away from here?"  He sought directions to where they had been.  "I shall return in time," he pledged as he took his leave.

Once in the streets, Charles had Sam and the trooper circle around the brother and sister pair when he located them.  As sure as the winter wind blows, the air would run from a soldier approaching.  With luck, they would run straight into the arms of his waiting troopers.

[Aria]

The weaponsmith told them he had last seen the two children begging near the candy store. And sure enough, they were still there, stopping passersby and asking them for money. The boy was about eleven or twelve years old and his bright hair, inexpertly cut, stuck out around his head in uneven lengths. The girl was much younger, only about five or six, with a mop of long flaming curls. Both children were very thin and their clothes were worn and patched. The girl's shoes were several sizes too big for her. Neither of them had much protection from the cold, which could be why they were constantly moving, running up to any well-dressed person who walked by.

 

The girl noticed Charles first, and he would be able to see her pointing him out to the boy. Instead of running, the boy turned toward him and grinned. They had not been picking pockets, so there was nothing to be afraid of. Besides, soldiers had money. Maybe this one could be persuaded to part with some of it. His sister hid behind him, peeking up at Charles with big blue eyes.

 

“Can ya spare a few coins, sir?” he asked. There was a cocky air about him. “Me an' me sister ain't ate fer two days. Our papa was a soldier just like you, but he died in a battle an' our mum's real sick.”

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

It was refreshing to find a pair of urchins, or a wayward ward, that did not flee from him upon approach.  The boy had a certain charm, just like the men that offered cure all tonics from town to town.

"Good day young man," Charles greeted as he peered down at the lad.  "Good day young woman.  A Happy New Year to you both.  Any children of a soldier are good in my book.  Rather than charity, I'm thinking I might hire the pair of you and give you enough coin to eat for a week.  What do you say?  It involves a memory game and a search for someone playing hide and seek.  Interested?"

The Earl might feel more pity for the pair but the city was full of paupers and it was easy to become accustomed to the chaffe of humanity that flooded the streets.  Still, this boy showed promise.

[Aria]

The soldier was more polite than the children had expected. Nobody had ever wished them a happy new year before. To the poor, one year passed much the same as the next. The Christmas season was notable because people felt more charitable. Now that it was over, funds were hard to come by for children who lived on the street. “I'm gonna be a soldier when I grow up,” the boy said proudly, standing up a bit straighter.

 

“Me too,” said the girl, reaching up to scratch her scalp.

 

“Girls can't be soldiers, Trijntje.”

 

The little girl rolled her eyes. “I ain't gonna be a girl soldier, Joos. I'm gonna be a boy soldier.”

 

“Ya can't turn into a boy,” Joos said.

 

Trijntje looked at him as if he was daft.

 

The boy considered Charles' offer, studying him with wary eyes. “How do we know yer really gonna pay us? You gonna give us something in advance?”

 

“I like hide and seek,” his sister said quietly.

 

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

"Soldiering is a noble profession," Charles replied.  "If you become a good one I might enlist you into my very own regiment that protects London."  He already had one female officer pretending to be a male officer, so he understood Trijntje's thoughts.  "You might be able to join too," he offered her hopefully.  "But I want only the best.  The best soldier notice things around them.  They can recognize a face or even a brick out of place.

"Every farthing must be earned," the Earn replied to the boy, "but I will start with something easy to give you a quick coin.  "If there was a man older than me that paid you to carry a note to the weaponsmith yonder, you would remember him would you not?" 

[Aria]

“I'll be the very best soldier in the world!” Joos claimed and then quickly added: “But not as good as you,” He knew how to flatter to get what he wanted and since this toff had promised him enough money to eat for a week, he didn't want to make him mad. He thought the man was just being kind to Trijntje, because everyone knew that all soldiers were male. “I know every inch of London,” he bragged, “just the kind of soldier ya need.”

 

The boy frowned when Charles refused to give him a few coins in advance, but he promised to pay for the answer to an easy question. And it was quite simple. He remembered that man. “Yep, I'd remember him as good as if he were me own mum.” Boldly, he held out his hand.

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

"You sound like the soldier I need," the Earl agreed as he dug out his coin pouch and began fishing about for a coin or two.  "Now you just need to describe him to me," Langdon continued.  "If your description matches the Weaponsmith, you get your coin.  Then I would give you a task to bring me to the man and you would earn a pound for you and your sister."  That would feed them for a month, at least.

[Aria]

Joos beamed and his chest puffed out. “I am,” he said confidently. “I wish I was old enough to join now.”

 

When Charles reached into his pocket, Trijntje finally stepped from behind her brother, watching him with big blue eyes. Again, she reached up to scratch her scalp.

 

“He was old, much older than you,” Joos replied. He eyed Charles' coin purse with interest. A pound was much more than he had thought he would get off this soldier. “His hair was brown, tied back with a ribbon, and he was tall. He wore fancy clothes and he spoke like a toff.”

 

“Cuz he was a toff,” added Trijntje.

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

The Earl pulled out a shilling, guessing that a farthing would not be sufficient to capture their attention.  "Did he have a scar or some trait that would be easy to identify him?  A limp maybe?  Did he have a moustache or long sideburns?"  He tossed the coin to the lad.  "I need to find this man.  I have an important message for him," Charles explained.  It was mostly true. 

"Do you think you can find him for me?  Might you lead me to him now, by chance?"

[Aria]

Joos grinned at the solider as he caught the coin. A shilling. More than he had expected for an answer to a simple question. “Nope, no scars or facial hair,” he said.

 

“He had a nice smile,” Trijntje added.

 

Charles' next question was more difficult. The boy had no idea where the man lived, but he was clever and came up with a solution that might still earn him that pound. “I can take the message to him,” he offered. “He don't live in a good part of town. Ya don't wanna go there.”

 

“Ya don't know nothing, Joos,” his sister accused, placing her hands on her hips and rolling her eyes. “He lives in a fancy house. I seen it.”

[Charles Whitehurst]

The lad's answer was not satisfying, but the sister gave the Earl hope.  His attention turned to the girl.  "Young lady, do you think you could lead me to his house right now?  You could earn your pay this very day," he enticed.  If the girl was certain of the house, Charles could learn who lived there, giving him the upper hand for the first time.

[Aria]

“She's lyin,” her brother said.

 

Trijntje's hands went back to her hips. “No, I ain't. The coachmen let me hide under their seats for warmth and they put a blanket over me so nobody'll see me. That man who gave you the message hired a coach I was hiding in, and I seen where he lives.”

 

Joos had nothing to say to that.

 

“I can lead you to it,” she told Charles, “It be a long cold walk and you gotta buy me a coat first. And one for my brother too. Then we'll be ready to go.”

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

Charles found himself grinning as the girl provided an explanation to support her claim.  "Grand.  Coats you shall have.  No need to walk.  You can ride behind us on our horses.  Well get there quicker."  Somerset Palace was not far from where they were.  Perhaps the waifs would enjoy a ride.  It would give them better visibility to find the house.

There was no time to waste.  "Shall we go?'  He looked up and signaled his two other soldiers to approach.  There was still trepidation that the girl might be too young to find the house again; but, she was his best hope.

[Aria]

“An' we want the money you promised as well as coats,” Trijntje insisted. Though she had wanted the coats before she showed them the way to the man's house, she wasn't about to turn down the chance to ride a horse.

 

Joos looked excited about it as well. “We're ready.”

 

 

(OOC: Go ahead and get them on the horses and I'll take it from there).

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

"You will get your money, if you lead me to the correct house," the Earl pledged.  It would be worth the pound.  He was less sure where to acquire two small coats for the urchins, but he would let them lead him to the appropriate merchant.

In time they found their way back to Somerset Palace where they kept their horses.  Some soup would be offered to the pair. The children would see the regiment training in the open courtyard.  His three soldiers mounted and Charles pulled the girl up behind him while Joos mounted Sam's horse.   "Lead on," he beckoned as he lead his horse upon the street. 

[Aria]

The urchins eagerly followed the three soldiers to a huge building that they had often passed before. It was a treat to go inside and they devoured every drop of the soup that they were given, even going so far as to lick the residue from the bowls. The last time they had eaten was yesterday when they had stolen some apples from a fruit stall.

 

Joos watched the men training in the courtyard with interest, imagining himself as one of them. If only he could be grown up now and join them. He was tall for his age but at eleven years old, he could never pass for an adult. He wanted to be able to make money so he and Trijntje wouldn't have to live on the streets anymore. Vaguely, he remembered residing in a big house when he was younger and having all the food he wanted. Then there had been a much smaller house and eventually, no house at all.

 

Soon they were riding horses with the soldiers, looking at the world from what seemed to them to be a bird's eye view. Having never been on the back of a horse, Trijntje clung tightly to Charles and called out directions. After a lot of turns down various roads, they came to a well-kept neighborhood with rows of moderately sized two-story houses lining each side of the street. “There it is!” the girl exclaimed, pointing to one that was painted white and had sapphire blue shutters. “He lives in that one.”

 

Unfortunately, the windows were boarded up and it looked abandoned, as if the owner had temporarily left town.

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

The waifs took particular interest in the palace grounds.  The Earl imagined if he needed to keep the two around for further evidence gathering and proof, he would need to keep them close at hand.  As such, he could give the two a place to sleep in the stable and they could help with the horses and helping tidy the yard and stables.

When they arrived at the house, Charles noted the street and the address as best he could.  He instructed the other trooper to dismount and inquire of the neighbors to see if he could learn the name and description of the gentleman that had been residing in the house.  Charles made sure to not linger in front of the house, which might draw undue attention.  So, the trio rode to the next street and waited for the trooper to return.

[Aria]

The trooper returned in about fifteen minutes. Only three of the residents had opened their doors. They all confirmed that the description of the house's owner matched the descriptions given by the weaponsmith and the children. They said he liked to keep to himself and had never spoken a single word to them.

 

One of them mentioned that every day of the season, he was picked up by a hired coach and returned home at the same time each evening.

 

Another had a bit more information. She said that he had visitors on some evenings, mostly other men. Once, she had overheard two of them saying that Lewin was devoted to his master as they were walking by her house. She had since been referring to the man as Lewin, though she wasn't certain if the men had been talking about her neighbor or somebody else.

 

Maybe what the trooper had uncovered wasn't as much as Charles had hoped for, but at least he now had a name and he knew where the man lived.

 

Trijntje fidgeted behind Charles.  "Can we go back to your house and have some more soup?" she asked.  "And we want our coats and money too."

 

[Charles Whitehurst]

They had a name.  Lewin.  It was not a common name but it was little to go upon.

"Visit the sheriff and the land records office," the Earl instructed the returning trooper.  "If we learn the name of the property owner, we can learn who he rented the house to.  Let us see if we can get permission to enter and discover if there are any clues to where the tenant may have gone."  It was doubtful that the man had left letters behind, but who was to know unless one was to check.

"Come, let us return to Somerset Palace.  You will get your money and your coats," Charles pledged.  A gentleman always kept his word.

As they rode back, Charles explained that the siblings could stay in the stable if they made themselves useful around the stable and the yard.  There would be soup in it for them each day.  With the pound, they would have a nice nest egg to see them through the winter, if not the rest of the year.  He would need them to help identify the mysterious nemesis next season when the man returned.

 

~OOC  We can wind up if you wish.

[Aria]

The trooper was glad that he was tasked with looking into the matter. He liked investigative work and was sure that he could find the information that his superior needed, maybe even more than he hoped for.

 

Joos and Trijntje were thrilled with Charles' offer to stay in the stable through the winter. They both loved horses and promised him that they would work hard and never complain at all. It had been a long time since they'd had a warm place to sleep and enough food to eat every day. They would also get to watch the soldiers training, which interested them both.

 

They didn't realize that Charles wanted to keep them around so that they could identify the man whose house they had led him to. It wouldn't have mattered one way or another. All they cared about was no longer being perpetually cold and hungry anymore.