Lamentation

Philip nodded. ‘And so she was advised. She said her son and daughter, who were around eleven and twelve then, were worried they would lose their inheritance. But she was set on marrying Master Cotterstoke. And she did. But Cotterstoke proved an honourable man. Deborah Cotterstoke, as she now was, came back to the lawyer a third time, some months later, together with her new husband, and Master Cotterstoke made a Will stating that if he should die before Deborah, the combined business — his own and the late Master Johnson’s — would pass to her. He sealed the matter by formally adopting Edward and Isabel; therefore even if Deborah were to die first they would still inherit their share. Deborah, apparently, was visibly pregnant at the time, and the couple thought it best to formalize arrangements.’

I scratched my cheek. ‘So Cotterstoke was a good stepfather to the children. And they kept his name, which they surely would not have done if they disliked him. Did this old fellow know anything of a quarrel within the family?’

‘Nothing,’ Coleswyn replied. ‘Only that shortly after, poor Master Cotterstoke drowned. That we knew, but I decided to look out for the coroner’s report.’ I sat up. ‘Apparently one Sunday, shortly after the children were adopted and the Will made, Master Cotterstoke walked from their home just beyond Aldgate, through the city and down to the docks, where a ship had just come in with some goods he had purchased abroad. He took the two children with him, and he also had two servants in attendance, a normal thing for a gentleman walking out. One was Patrick Vowell, which is the name of the old man who is taking care of the house now.’

‘Indeed?’ I asked, my interest growing.

‘Both servants testified that Master Cotterstoke seemed perfectly happy that day, as did the two children. He was looking forward to the arrival of his new child. The servants left him at the customs house; Master Cotterstoke said he did not know how long he would be and they should wait outside. The children went on to the docks with him.

‘It was quiet at the docks, being Sunday. A little time later, a labourer heard shouting and crying from the water. He thought it was gulls at first but it came again and he realized it was a human cry. He ran to the water and saw a man floating there. The tide was full and anyone who fell off the wharfside would plunge into deep water. He called for some of his colleagues to help him get the body ashore but it was too late. It was Master Cotterstoke, and his lungs were found to be full of water; he certainly drowned. And apparently it was a misty day in autumn; someone walking near the edge could easily make a misstep.’

‘True.’

‘Both children gave evidence at the inquest. They said their stepfather had visited the ship, and then said he wanted to take a walk to see what goods might be available on other ships that had come in, and they should go back to the servants, which they did. Not uncommon for a merchant to do on a Sunday, though apparently the wharves were not busy that day.’

‘Was this lawyer you met involved in the inquest?’

‘No. But he met Deborah Cotterstoke once more afterwards, when he visited the house to help with formalizing the documentation for probate after the funeral. He said he remembered her as being in a piteous state of grief, which was unsurprising in a woman who had lost two husbands in little over two years, and the children also appeared shocked and stunned.’

‘Did she ever come back to see him?’

Coleswyn shook his head. ‘He wrote to her asking if she wished to make a new Will, but she did not reply. He heard a little later that she had lost the child she had been carrying at that time, again not surprising, given her sad circumstances.’ Philip sighed. ‘He remembered seeing her and the children in the streets from time to time. Then she sold the business and her son, my client Edward, decided to seek a different trade.’

‘And she never married again?’

‘No. Apparently she made a point of wearing sober clothes for the rest of her life.’

I considered. ‘Are you saying a third party may have been involved in Master Cotterstoke’s death?’ I caught my breath. ‘Or even one of the children? The coroner would only have their word that their stepfather was alive when they returned to the servants.’ I frowned. ‘Or that old Mistress Cotterstoke held them both responsible for her husband’s death? All the evidence indicates she came to dislike both her children; we have said before that the wording of the Will looks like an attempt to set them against each other.’ I looked at Philip. ‘These are horrible thoughts.’

‘They are. But given the Will their stepfather made, the children and his wife Deborah had no reason to dislike or distrust him.’ He looked at me seriously. ‘But I have been struggling with my conscience as to whether I should go and speak to the old servant, Goodman Vowell. I have no authority from my client, but. .’

I smiled sadly. ‘You would pluck up the roots of this madness.’