Read Online Much Ado About Murder by Simon Hawke - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Simon Hawke
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And that would profit no one." He took his knife away from Moll Cut-purse's throat and stood back, cautiously, keeping his blade ready.
Moll stepped away and turned around to face him, her hand instinctively going to her throat to feel for blood. There wasn't any. Smythe had been careful not to cut her. The other men started to close in, but she held her hand up, holding them off. They stopped at once.
"Would you have done it, then?" she asked, softly. "Would you have cut me throat?"
"To be honest, I truly do not know," Smythe replied.
" 'Tis an honest man who can admit his own uncertainties," she said. She came up close to him, so she could see him better. She gazed at him thoughtfully. "I have seen you before, methinks," she said.
"I stay at the Toad and Badger," Smythe said. "And I am a player with the Queen's Men. So now you know where you can find me, if you truly wish me dead."
"If that were so, then you would be dead already," she said with a smile. "A player, eh? You are a strapping big lad for a player. You have the look of a man who does honest labor for his living."
"I apprenticed as a smith and farrier," he said. "Though I am no journeyman, I still do some work for Liam Bailey now and then, what with the playhouses being closed."
"Liam Bailey's last apprentice had his head broke in a fight, I heard," she said. " 'Twould be a shame to deprive him of another. He's not getting any younger."
"I would not say that to his face," Smythe said. "His arm is still twice the size of mine, and I do not yet see him entering his dotage. Not without a fight."
"He's a cantankerous old kite, sure enough. But though 'tis pleasant to stand here and pass the time, we still have unfinished business, you and I. What were you doing following me tonight?"
"Well, 'twas not you I was following so much as Molly," Smythe replied.
"Molly, is it? Are you her lover, then?"
"What, I? Nay, nothing like," said Smythe, a bit taken aback. "In truth, I love another. But Molly… well, we all… that is, all the players… we are all quite fond of her, you know. And when I saw a strange man… well, what I
thought
was a man, anyway… approach her in the street tonight and then go off with her, well… I was curious and merely wanted to be sure that naught would go amiss."
"I see." Moll stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, that has the ring of truth to it, I suppose. And you did seem surprised when you learned I was woman. What is your name, laddie?"
"I am called Tuck Smythe."
She held out her hand. "Moll Cutpurse is me canting name," she said, as he took it. "Someday, if I should get to know you better, I may give you me Christian one. And then again, I may not. But I shall keep an eye on you, Tuck Smythe. For me own sake and for Molly's… just to make sure that naught will go amiss," she added, giving him his own words back with a smile.
She reached out her hand and one of her men returned her sword to her. As she put it back into its scabbard, another man picked up her hat and gave it back to her. She put it back on, touched her brim to Smythe, and then one by one, they all melted away into the darkness without a sound.
"Hmpf. Now I know why they call them 'footpads,' " Smythe said to himself. He looked around.
The streets were dark and foggy, and it was difficult to see much more than a few paces ahead. However, despite that, and despite the lateness of the hour, he was nevertheless struck by the fact that on a street crowded with buildings, in a part of the city where rooms were often shared by as many as a dozen people crowded in together and sleeping on the floor, apparently no one had even opened a window and looked out during his encounter with Moll Cutpurse and her men.
He was also struck by how quickly she had been able to summon those men. Surely, she could not have had the time to do so in the brief interval between leaving Molly at her doorstep and accosting him only a few blocks later.
She had known that
Moll stepped away and turned around to face him, her hand instinctively going to her throat to feel for blood. There wasn't any. Smythe had been careful not to cut her. The other men started to close in, but she held her hand up, holding them off. They stopped at once.
"Would you have done it, then?" she asked, softly. "Would you have cut me throat?"
"To be honest, I truly do not know," Smythe replied.
" 'Tis an honest man who can admit his own uncertainties," she said. She came up close to him, so she could see him better. She gazed at him thoughtfully. "I have seen you before, methinks," she said.
"I stay at the Toad and Badger," Smythe said. "And I am a player with the Queen's Men. So now you know where you can find me, if you truly wish me dead."
"If that were so, then you would be dead already," she said with a smile. "A player, eh? You are a strapping big lad for a player. You have the look of a man who does honest labor for his living."
"I apprenticed as a smith and farrier," he said. "Though I am no journeyman, I still do some work for Liam Bailey now and then, what with the playhouses being closed."
"Liam Bailey's last apprentice had his head broke in a fight, I heard," she said. " 'Twould be a shame to deprive him of another. He's not getting any younger."
"I would not say that to his face," Smythe said. "His arm is still twice the size of mine, and I do not yet see him entering his dotage. Not without a fight."
"He's a cantankerous old kite, sure enough. But though 'tis pleasant to stand here and pass the time, we still have unfinished business, you and I. What were you doing following me tonight?"
"Well, 'twas not you I was following so much as Molly," Smythe replied.
"Molly, is it? Are you her lover, then?"
"What, I? Nay, nothing like," said Smythe, a bit taken aback. "In truth, I love another. But Molly… well, we all… that is, all the players… we are all quite fond of her, you know. And when I saw a strange man… well, what I
thought
was a man, anyway… approach her in the street tonight and then go off with her, well… I was curious and merely wanted to be sure that naught would go amiss."
"I see." Moll stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, that has the ring of truth to it, I suppose. And you did seem surprised when you learned I was woman. What is your name, laddie?"
"I am called Tuck Smythe."
She held out her hand. "Moll Cutpurse is me canting name," she said, as he took it. "Someday, if I should get to know you better, I may give you me Christian one. And then again, I may not. But I shall keep an eye on you, Tuck Smythe. For me own sake and for Molly's… just to make sure that naught will go amiss," she added, giving him his own words back with a smile.
She reached out her hand and one of her men returned her sword to her. As she put it back into its scabbard, another man picked up her hat and gave it back to her. She put it back on, touched her brim to Smythe, and then one by one, they all melted away into the darkness without a sound.
"Hmpf. Now I know why they call them 'footpads,' " Smythe said to himself. He looked around.
The streets were dark and foggy, and it was difficult to see much more than a few paces ahead. However, despite that, and despite the lateness of the hour, he was nevertheless struck by the fact that on a street crowded with buildings, in a part of the city where rooms were often shared by as many as a dozen people crowded in together and sleeping on the floor, apparently no one had even opened a window and looked out during his encounter with Moll Cutpurse and her men.
He was also struck by how quickly she had been able to summon those men. Surely, she could not have had the time to do so in the brief interval between leaving Molly at her doorstep and accosting him only a few blocks later.
She had known that
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