{"id":127,"date":"2016-08-10T22:04:06","date_gmt":"2016-08-10T22:04:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/?p=127"},"modified":"2016-08-10T22:07:02","modified_gmt":"2016-08-10T22:07:02","slug":"broken-instrument-chapter-10-helmsley-a-dogs-breakfast","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/a-broken-instrument\/broken-instrument-chapter-10-helmsley-a-dogs-breakfast\/","title":{"rendered":"(Broken Instrument) CHAPTER 10: HELMSLEY: A DOG\u2019S BREAKFAST"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"It's<\/a>
It’s awful when you get fish guts on your second favorite doublet.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

His (Hugh Owen\u2019s) reports from England included not merely verbatim reports from courtrooms but even letters from privy councilors. Spanish and English espionage was mainly directed to gathering information on movements of troops and shipping. Owen\u2019s services were chiefly valued for his work in this field.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

The First Earl of Salisbury\u2019s Pursuit of Hugh Owen<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Francis Edwards<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cFuck!\u201d The hard-flung potato left Helmsley\u2019s ear stinging. \u201cDamnation!\u201d Before he could dodge, fish guts smeared his doublet. It wasn\u2019t his favorite doublet, he wasn\u2019t a complete fool, wearing something precious to possible violence, but the red velvet with the black side buttons had sentimental value. And now it was ruined. Almost as ruined as his plans. Desperate, he slid around a midget doing something perverted to someone supine on the market\u2019s besmirched cobbles. He strove to catch a glimpse of the far side of the market. There! Not a bad trick, exchanging his hat for a hood, but the whoreson\u2019s bulky shape was unmistakable. \u201cJean!\u201d He pointed across the brawl that just moments before had been a weekly market. \u201cThere!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

At the yell of his name, Jean looked around. He saw where Helmsley was pointing and dropped the man he had just headbutted. Bulling his way through the rioting crowd, he made much better progress than his master, and reached the far side of the market several moments before Helmsley. <\/span><\/p>\n

Helmsley dodged around three market provosts who were liberally applying peace and quiet with their staves and headed towards Jean who was standing just inside an alley. As he was about to reach Jean, a man burst out of the alley, stumbling, tying up his codpiece. Helmsley noted with a sinking heart the blood splashed on the man\u2019s shoes. He realized his sinking heart was well justified when he came up beside Jean and beheld the scene in the alley. <\/span><\/p>\n

Helmsley felt the last bit of hope in him flutter and die as he beheld the scene in the alley. There was Malverny, one of his men that he had sent after Nick, known to him for several years now, a fellow English Catholic, Malverny lying unconscious and bleeding in the muddy alley, his blood mixing into the dank puddles. A whore got to her feet, the fresh stains at the knees of her dress mingling with the older stains, and tucked a loose breast back into her dress. And most important of all, there was an absence. A distinct lack of that fat heretic false-face, Nick Applethorpe. \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, this is a dog\u2019s breakfast. He\u2019s a wounded fat man. Why is it that we fail at such an easy task?\u201d Helmsley turned to the whore. \u201cThe man who did this, which way did he go from the alley? Left or right.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She spat milky white on the bloody mud. \u201cNo fucking clue. I was minding my own business.\u201d She looked at the two men. \u201cSpeaking of business, either of you fancy a turn?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Helmsley moved in close and let his frustration show. \u201cI have no intention of going anywhere near the poxed hole that you call your quim. Now pay attention to my question and think well upon it. Which way did he go, the fat man? Left? Right?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWho the fuck are you to threaten me? My man gets here, he\u2019ll chop you into pig food, you stuck up asshole!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

And suiting wishes to words, her pimp entered the alley. \u201cWhat the fuck, Gretel? How many fucking times have I told you, don\u2019t kill the trick!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Helmsley nodded towards the pimp. \u201cJean.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The pimp tried to go for a blade but Jean was much faster. He slammed the pimp against the alley wall with his shoulder and kept him pinned there while his cleaver appeared in his free hand. The pimp stopped struggling and cursing the minute that Jean rested the edge of his cleaver on the bridge of his nose.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNow. I asked you a question.\u201d Helmsley leaned closed to the whore and dug his fingers into her shoulder. With an effort, he kept his tone low and even. \u201cThe fat man who killed this man. Which way did he go out of the alley?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She kept her eyes low and any trace of pain off her face. \u201cI swear by the Mother Mary that I don\u2019t know. I saw the fight start out of the corner of my eye. The fat man came into my alley and was grappled with by a man following. That\u2019s all I saw. I \u00a0paid close attention to my business and naught else. I wasn\u2019t done until after the fight finished and the fat man left.\u201d Her voice remained low and quick throughout her account. Helmsley could tell that she didn\u2019t expect to be believed. \u201cI swear that\u2019s all I saw. I swear on the Mother.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Even though she was probably telling the truth, Helmsley had to struggle with the urge to take his frustrations out on her face. He conquered his feelings and released her. \u201cGo. Get on out of here\u201d He turned to Jean. \u201cLet him go. Stay here and take care of Malverny.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The minute that Jean removed his knife from his face, the pimp scuttled away. He roughly grabbed the whore\u2019s arm and dragged her out of the alley, <\/span><\/p>\n

A sour ball of dissatisfaction began rise in Helmsley\u2019s stomach as he left the alley. He cursed himself for his failure. He should have had his men grab Nick the minute that they saw him leave the widow\u2019s. Waiting to get him a secluded place was an idiot\u2019s decision. He should have snatched him right there in public, the authorities be damned. A commotion caught his eye across the marketplace. Hugh Owen was hurrying towards him and his two bodyguards were not letting anyone get in his way. Morgan and Griffin were Owen\u2019s closest and most trusted fellows. Welsh as Owen, their families had served his for several generations back in Caernarfon. As he took in Owen\u2019s gait and the set of shoulders, Helmsley\u2019s heart dropped even further.<\/span><\/p>\n

Owen\u2019s voice was ice. \u201cDid you get him?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Helmsley removed his cap. \u201cI\u2019m afraid not. He knocked Malverny unconscious and\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve always judged that your memory is good, Helmsley.\u201d The lack of his first name was a very bad sign. \u201cSo surely you cannot have forgotten the conversation that we had such a short time before. The Spanish have their eyes on us and their trust is wavering because we had nurtured this viper unseen for so long. So it is of utmost importance that Nick be captured. Is your memory refreshed?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI had not forgotten. He had compatriots who\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now I am here with news that makes his capture even the more to be desired. Broussard is dead. At Nick\u2019s hand. The packet is missing. Even you should be able to understand what that means.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI do.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo I come here with the wild hope that you have not failed and that this treacherous heretic whoreson is in our hands. False hope. The worst kind.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFrom this area, his closest choices of escape are the Old Gate to the east or the canal.\u201d The best way to regain favor would be to show that he was not overcome by his defeat and was soldiering on. He kept his voice steady and businesslike, hiding the fact that his frustration had been replaced by fear. \u201cI judge that the canal is the most likely because it empties into the Rupel, which puts him just a short distance upriver from Antwerp. If he is planning on crossing into the United Provinces or across the Channel to England, he will do so at Antwerp. However, he may not wish to be so obvious and thus make for the gate and head east for a time. I will immediately have men see if they can pick up his trail in either direction.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAt least your mind is beginning to work again. Those are adequate ideas but unnecessary. There is one person who undoubtedly knows where that bastard is fleeing to.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe Widow.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIndeed. She is a woman and therefore weak and her business is unlawful as well. She will be amenable to telling us all that she knows.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd her protectors?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The glance that Owen threw at Helmsley was swift and vicious. \u201cDamn them to the lowest sulphur pits of Hell. I give not one good Goddamn what any of those pieces of shit say. This is too important.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Helmsley kept his gaze in the middle distance and his tone even. \u201cDo you wish me to attend upon you during your visit to the Widow Cornieliuszoon?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I will see her alone. You have disappointed me quite enough this day. \u00a0You will wait outside her house with a few men whose wits you trust. Watch and see if any depart while I am there with warnings to Nick or anyone else. Do you think that you can manage to do that, at least?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Though shame clotted his throat, Helmsley managed to keep his voice from shaking. \u201cI swear that I will not disappoint you a second time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Owen gave him no forgiveness. \u201cSee that you don\u2019t.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

His (Hugh Owen\u2019s) reports from England included not merely verbatim reports from courtrooms but even letters from privy councilors. Spanish and English espionage was mainly directed to gathering information on movements of troops and shipping. Owen\u2019s services were chiefly valued for his work in this field. The First Earl of Salisbury\u2019s Pursuit of Hugh Owen […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[5],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/127"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=127"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/127\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":132,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/127\/revisions\/132"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=127"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=127"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jasonbrezinski.com\/novels\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=127"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}