Dark Matter

“I must be gone,” said the Major stiffly. “I have no leisure to throw away on your conversation, Doctor Newton. You have had my answer, sir.”

“Before you go, Major,” said Newton, “would you like your belt buckle back?”

The Major reached for the buckle of his own sword belt and, finding it gone, gasped when he saw it held like a magician’s coin in Newton’s outstretched hand.

“Silver, is it not?” asked Newton.

“How did you come by that, sir?” he asked, collecting it from Newton’s hand.

“I found it on the outer rampire,” said Newton. “Close to the Brass Mount. I believe it fell from your belt when Sergeant Rohan struck you to the ground and then wrestled you to your feet again.”

“It is not possible we were observed,” whispered Major Mornay.

“Tell me, Major, is it common practice in the Army for sergeants to strike their officers with impunity?”

“I think you are mistaken, sir,” said Sergeant Rohan. “I struck no officer.”

“No more did you threaten him, I suppose.”

“It was a private matter,” said Mornay. “Between two gentlemen.”

“Nay, sir, between an officer and a sergeant. Tell me, Major, are you still carrying the letter the Sergeant gave you?”

“Letter?”

“And you, Sergeant. Are you still in possession of the Major’s guinea?”

“What manner of a man are you?” Rohan asked, much disturbed, as if he almost believed it to be some kind of witchcraft that Newton knew so much about their affairs.

“I am a man that sees much and understands more,” said Newton. “Think on that when next you and Major Mornay discourse your hidden matter. Was that what you argued about? The most secret of secrets?”

“I know not what you mean, sir,” answered Sergeant Rohan.

“I cannot imagine that you could mistake me. I was plain enough. Even for a Frenchman to understand.”

“I’ll give you no further account of my actions, sir,” said the Sergeant.

“There’s nothing but impudence can help you out now,” said Newton.

“Come, sir,” Rohan said to Mornay. “Let’s away, lest this gentleman be foolish enough to call me a liar to my face.” Whereupon the two soldiers walked away toward the Bloody Tower, leaving me almost as surprised as they were themselves.

Newton watched their retreat with something like delight, rubbing his hands together. “I think that I have put the bear in the pit, so to speak.”

“But was it wise, Doctor, to provoke them so?” I asked him. “With two murders done here or hereabouts?”

“Three,” said Newton. “Let us not forget Mister Macey.”

“And did you not counsel caution to me, for fear that it might hinder the recoinage? Or perhaps something worse?”

“It is too late for that, I fear. The damage is done. And it has been in my thoughts this past half an hour that some disruption to the recoinage was surely intended by this murderer.”

“When this gets out, it may be the Minters will be too afeared to come to the Tower.”

“Indeed that is so. I shall speak to Mister Hall, and advise him that the wages of the Minters should be increased to take account of their fears.”

Newton glanced back at the two retreating figures of Rohan and Mornay.

“But I think that those two should be provoked, for they are much too conspiratorial. Like Brutus and Cassius. Perhaps now they will reveal their design in some way, for it seems certain there is some great secret in this Tower.”

“But, Master, how ever did you know these things? Their argument. The buckle. The letter. I think that they must have suspected you of some sorcery.”

“It was only the sorcery of two polished copper plates,” said Newton. “The one convex, the other concave, and ground very true to one another.”

“The telescope,” I exclaimed. “Of course. You saw them from the north-east turret of the White Tower.”

“Just so,” admitted Newton. “I saw them as I said, arguing most violently, so that I was surprised to see them again, much reconciled. If one thing is clear to me in this dark matter it is that Sergeant Rohan knows something that holds Major Mornay in thrall to him, or else he should have been arrested and flogged for striking an officer. I must question them both again, and separately.”

“There was a moment when I swear I thought the Sergeant would strike you. I thought I should have to speak to him by way of my sword.”

“I’m right glad to have the both of you around,” offered Newton. “Especially in as cold and dark a place as this. Why, a man might think himself come down to hell. We must find out more about Sergeant Rohan and Major Mornay. It shall be your earliest concern.”

We walked back to the Mint, where we discovered that the night shift of Mint workers had already gathered in the Street outside the Warden’s Office, and now loudly declared themselves of the opinion that the Mint was not a safe place in which to work, and that, French War or not, the King’s Great Recoinage could be hanged.

“We’ll all of us be murdered if we stay here much longer,” said one. “What with Lord Lucas and his general provocations of us Minters, and now these horrible killings, this is no longer a fit place for God-fearing men to work.”