The Shadow of William Quest by John Bainbridge

Author:John Bainbridge [Bainbridge, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-03-30T23:00:00+00:00

~

Bell was drunk.

Drunk and sorrowful.

Drunk and in a reminiscent mood.

Anders liked them like that. Just drunk enough to be talkative. Just drunk enough to be indiscreet. He hoped that the newspaper proprietor and printer might be very indiscreet. Mind, the man was fat and could probably hold a lot of drink. Bell was, perhaps, sixty years old, almost as broad as he was tall, with a ragged beard, untidy hair and printers ink splattered over his clothing.

‘Good of you…’ the printer said. ‘To give money in this way. Your health!’ he raised the tankard. ‘And you could not have known dear Marshall and his boys?’

Anders shook his head.

‘A good man,’ Bell continued. ‘A fine man. A champion of the poor. No, not just the poor. All in distress. And well connected. Well thought on across the land. They say those Bartram swines killed him. Well, I can see why they would. They tried to kill a great many…’

‘Did you know William Marshall for a long time?’ asked Anders.

‘Aye, a very long time. Through trouble and sorrow we fought…’ he almost sang the words. ‘Nor shall we be defeated…’

‘Marshall had three sons? The youngest may have survived.’

‘Young Billy? A brave lad, though he struggled as an infant. His poor mother died when he was but two. A shock to all!’

‘We think he is alive,’ Gurney remarked. ‘Would you know of his whereabouts?’

Bell poured more drink down his throat and sank back into the printer’s chair.

‘Unlikely,’ he said. ‘Where would he be? Mind, I have not been in communication with any of our friends outside Norwich for many years. Others may know of him elsewhere…’

‘Others?’ said Anders.

‘I think it likely that young Billy Marshall is dead. If he were alive why would he not have returned to Norwich?’

‘Who are these others?’ Anders persisted.

‘His father had friends in London. In political circles. They might possibly help you in your quest.’

Bell closed his eyes against the sunlight that streamed in through the window. His head nodded forward and he gave a grunt that was somewhere between a sigh and a snore.

‘What others?’ Anders asked in a gentle voice.

‘Marshall had many champions. Not just in the days of Swing but before and after. He corresponded with fierce old Cobbett and they struck up a great friendship. Did you know that? And radical members of Parliament such as Chapman and Quest and Roebuck. Ah, if only people had listened. If only people had stuck together.’

Bell fell asleep as the two detectives left his office.

‘I’m not sure that that was helpful at all,’ said Gurney as they walked to the railway station. ‘Old names from the past. William Cobbett is dead! No help there.’

‘We have very little else,’ Anders replied. ‘Roebuck sits in the Commons. I can talk to him. I know nothing of Chapman and Quest. I will make inquiries in London. When is the funeral to be?’

‘Two weeks tomorrow.’

‘Then I will return to Norwich for that. It is just possible that young Billy Marshall might make an appearance.

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