Free The Fate of Princes by Paul Doherty Page A

my evil suspicions but, at the time, I thought they might all be murderers.

Eight
    Richard began the meeting, giving a sharp, decisive description of the conspiracy in the south, expressing anxiety about how Buckingham not only refused to answer his letters but dismissed Richard’s messengers with total disdain. Haltingly, he began to talk about the Princes, sometimes making mistakes, calling them his true nephews, and then, as if remembering himself, his brother’s illegitimate issue. At length, as if tired of the subject, he lapsed into silence and waved a beringed hand at me.
    ‘Francis,’ he said, ‘perhaps you can give the clearest description of what is happening.’
    I told them what I knew. By the end of June, both Princes had been removed to the Tower. The King had visited the fortress on July 4th. On 17 July, Brackenbury had been appointed as Constable and immediately paid his respects to the Princes. The boys had been well, though the elder was morose and withdrawn, suffering from an infection of the jaw. On the 25th, Buckingham had visited them and on the 26th, Brackenbury had seen the Princes again. On the following day Sir James Tyrrell had visited the Tower to collect stores for the King. On the 29th, Brackenbury had discovered them gone and immediately despatched a letter to the King as well as visiting Bishop Russell, the Chancellor.
    As I talked, Richard sat slumped in his high-backedchair, toying with his sparkling ring, refusing to meet my eye. I looked down at the other councillors, their hard, closed faces, and I wondered once again if any of them had been involved in the Princes’ disappearance. They were all ruthless men, totally dedicated to Richard; like John Howard, Duke of Norfolk, they viewed the Princes as obstacles to their rise in power and a threat to their own status. I looked sideways at Richard. Was he suffering pangs of guilt? Guilt about murder? Or just guilt for deserting the sons of his own brother? He stirred, chewing his lip.
    ‘My Lords,’ he began. ‘This matter is no secret, but your advice is needed. What is said here cannot be discussed elsewhere. Whatever you feel or think should now be openly declared.’ His words were greeted by silence.
    ‘Sir James Tyrrell,’ I asked. ‘It is true you visited the Tower?’ The fellow nodded. ‘And you did not see the Princes?’
    ‘No, I did not.’
    ‘Why?’
    Tyrrell shrugged. ‘I saw them as of little import.’
    ‘And Brackenbury?’ I asked. ‘He was well?’ Tyrrell stretched out his hand as though examining his fingernails.
    ‘Sir Robert Brackenbury was his usual self. I saw and heard nothing amiss.’
    ‘It’s quite simple,’ Catesby broke in. ‘Surely? The Princes are gone. They have either escaped or been murdered.’ He turned towards the King. ‘Brackenbury would not commit such an act and certainly not without His Grace’s permission. That is so?’ Richard nodded. ‘Buckingham could not have murdered them,’ Catesby continued. ‘For they were seen alive after our noble Duke left. The culprit must either be someone we do not know or William Slaughter.’
    ‘But why?’ I interrupted. ‘Why should Slaughter killthe Princes? What had he to gain?’ Catesby smiled thinly.
    ‘If it was Slaughter,’ he murmured, ‘then a number of people could have bribed him and, once the act was done, his throat cut.’ The room grew quiet. I felt a prickle of sweat on my back. Catesby’s conclusions were the same as mine. The last person to have seen the Princes alive was Slaughter. He might well have carried out the dreadful deed but who was behind him? I recollected my conversation with the tavern wench. She had last seen Slaughter on the evening of August 1st. Was that when he had murdered the two boys? Possibly. But the real problem was who had paid him?
    Richard’s secretary, Kendall, now white-faced, listed the possibilities.
    ‘Your Grace,’ he began. ‘Slaughter may have been paid by Brackenbury, the