The Witch Hunter's Tale(10)

“Lady Bridget, I must speak to you of your nephew Joseph,” he said.

“What is it?” I asked. “I have not seen him since Edward died.” I glanced at Will, unsure how much he had told George of our suspicions about Joseph’s true nature. The previous summer, a prisoner had died in York Castle. Though we could not prove it, we had good reason to think Joseph was behind the death.

“I believe that Joseph soon will make another attempt to drive all manner of sin and sinners out of the city. Last summer it was drunkenness and fornication; now it is witchcraft. It is all of a piece.”

“Will and I already discussed this,” I replied. “We shall have to be careful indeed.”

“As soon as Hester Jackson was arrested, Joseph asked the Council to hire Rebecca Hooke as the Searcher,” George continued as if I had not spoken.

I sighed impatiently. “Yes, yes,” I said. “We know all this.”

“There is more,” he said. “I had hoped that you would be a part of our defense against Joseph’s scheme. I had hoped you would play a role in the hunt for witches.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. I did not like where George’s fancy was taking him.

“When Joseph proposed hiring Rebecca, I thwarted him by telling the Council that you had agreed to act as our Searcher in this and all other cases that might arise.”

“You did what?” I cried. “You told them this without speaking with me first?”

George seemed surprised by my anger.

“I had no choice,” he complained. “I could not stand idly by and let Joseph Hodgson and Rebecca Hooke seize such power for themselves. If Hester Jackson is guilty, then let her be hanged. But Joseph and Rebecca have no interest in guilt or innocence, only in making the city their own. I thought my plan was quite brilliant. At least until I learned that you had chosen a woman in travail over the search of Hester Jackson’s body.”

I heard a note of reproach in his voice, as if I had somehow betrayed him by going to a labor. I would have none of it.

“You did not consult me beforehand, and you know I cannot abandon my clients.” I gave my anger free rein, for he had far overstepped his bounds. “I’ve done enough business with the city to expect such ill-treatment from most men, but I expect more from you. That kind of stupidity drives me mad.”

George hung his head for a moment in a show of contrition before continuing as if I’d said nothing of consequence. “My fear is that they have more ambitious plans than the hanging of one old woman. I think they are conspiring against me and others who are not zealous enough for Parliament.”

I nodded. “Again, that is no news. He means to make York his own, as he always has. He will use the law to rid York of its sinners, whether whores or witches, and once he’s done so he will turn it against his enemies. If a few old women are hanged along the way, so be it; you are right to be afraid.”

“The danger is imminent, and we cannot wait to act,” George said. “They say that Suffolk has hanged hundreds of witches. If Joseph were to make himself a Witch Finder…” We fell silent at the prospect of Joseph presiding over scores of hangings.

“Give me a writ to question Hester Jackson,” I said at last.

“What? Why?” George asked. “What good will that do? She is to be hanged.”

“If Rebecca and Joseph are scheming to see her executed, there must be a reason, and she may know what it is. If I speak to her, I might be able to discover their next move.” In truth, I was not convinced that such a strategy would work—Joseph and Rebecca were far too careful to tip their hand to a woman such as Hester Jackson—but it could do no harm.

George nodded. “She is to be hanged on Friday, so you will have to go tomorrow. I will send a letter to the Castle’s Warden ensuring that you are allowed to see her. Will your deputy accompany you?”

“If I am going as a spy, there is nobody I would rather have at my side,” I replied. George did not know of Martha’s past as a cutpurse and burglar, but the truth was that when our work drew us across the border between the lawful and the criminal, I was her deputy.

After that, I steered the evening’s conversation onto subjects more comfortable than witchcraft and executions, and we had a pleasant time of it. When I arrived at my home, I acquainted Martha with the task that lay before us. As I expected she warmed to the challenge, but she recognized that we could not enter the fray without some danger to ourselves.

“Mr. Hodgson and Mrs. Hooke will know that we’ve visited Hester Jackson,” she said, “and they’ll not be pleased.”