The Cheapside Corpse (32 page)

The upholder conducted her up the back stairs – while he was eager to win her good graces, even he dared not take her on a route where they might meet the Earl – and into the Great Parlour. It was a room of impressive proportion, complete with marble pillars and a fabulously ornate ceiling. Chaloner was not surprised that his employer wanted the remaining curtains, as they really did go very well with his expensive rugs.

‘Yes, those are mine,’ said Temperance, giving the drapery a brief inspection. ‘And if you want proof, there is a burn on one where it met Buckingham’s pipe, and a brown stain on another where there was a mishap involving a fricassee.’

Neve rummaged through the material to reveal first one mark and then the other. ‘What a pity,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘The Earl will be mortified.’

Chaloner was sure he would. He returned Temperance to the kitchen and left her in the solicitous care of three admiring footmen, two valets and a butler, then took the upholder aside.

‘How much did Baron charge for them?’ he asked.

Neve’s expression turned shifty. ‘Three thousand pounds.’

‘His ledger read two thousand nine hundred, and he had no reason to set it down wrongly. You have effectively stolen a hundred pounds from our employer.’

Neve opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but Chaloner fixed him with a steely glare, and the upholder’s indignation dissolved into bleating excuses. ‘I am in debt, which you of all people should understand. Besides, it was a good price, even with my commission. No other linen-draper charges so little.’

‘And now we know why: what he sells does not belong to him. It was not a good price, anyway – Temperance paid two thousand pounds for seven pairs, but you gave two thousand nine hundred for nine. You let Baron cheat you, and you cheated the Earl.’

Neve looked ready to cry. ‘I
had
to! I borrowed heavily to start my upholding business, but it has never been as profitable as I hoped. Backwell’s rates were good, but he sold my debt to Taylor … And Clarendon nags me incessantly about the last curtains. My life has been a living hell for weeks.’

‘He never stopped my pay, did he?’ said Chaloner coldly. ‘That was a lie, designed to make me confront Baron more quickly, so that the Earl would stop pestering you.’

Neve had the grace to blush. ‘I was desperate. And my commission was only a hundred pounds anyway. The Earl spends twice that amount every day on fripperies. He will not miss it.’

‘It is not about the money.’ Chaloner was exasperated. ‘Do you not know what will happen if word gets out that Clarendon House is furnished with stolen goods? His enemies will use it to impeach him, and he will lose his post as Lord Chancellor – or worse.’

‘Nonsense! He will just deny knowing that they came from the club. I certainly had no idea.’

‘But you must have guessed their provenance was dubious,’ persisted Chaloner, ‘given Baron’s reputation as a felon.’

Neve rubbed a weary hand over his eyes, and much of the defensive bluster went out of him. ‘Will you tell him?’

‘That the curtains are stolen? Yes, of course, so he can decide what to do about them.’

‘And my commission?’

‘He is likely to find out anyway, so I recommend that you confess. It will not be pleasant, but at least you will have a chance to explain yourself. He admires your work, so perhaps he will overlook the matter.’

‘I cannot own up to such a thing!’ cried Neve, appalled. ‘He will tell everyone that I am dishonest, and no client would ever trust me again.’

‘But you
are
dishonest.’

‘That is not the point. I would rather resign.’

‘Then resign. You have until tomorrow to do it, because that is when I will tell him what has happened. And do not glower at me. It is your own fault that you are in this predicament.’

Feeling soiled by the encounter, Chaloner went to My Lord’s Lobby. The Earl was at his costly Venetian desk, surrounded by papers of state, although he must have been distracted by the workmen who were noisily installing his latest acquisitions in the hallway outside.

‘What is wrong with your voice?’ demanded the Earl suspiciously. ‘Have you been in any plaguey areas? I thought I told you to stay away from them.’

‘Too much pipe smoke,’ lied Chaloner, unwilling to admit to a cold lest the Earl caught one and held him accountable.

‘So what is the news about my curtains?’

‘Not good, I am afraid, sir. The ones hanging in your house belong to the gentlemen’s club on Hercules’ Pillars Alley. They were stolen specifically so that Baron could sell them to you.’

The Earl regarded him in horror. ‘
Stolen?
No! I have bills of receipt from the linen-draper that Baron commissioned to make them for me. His name and place of business are written on the bottom.’ He rummaged about on his desk. ‘Here they are.’

‘Forgeries, sir,’ said Chaloner, although he had to admit that they were very good ones. ‘Jan Meer at Sign of the Swan in Bread Street is a Dutch porcelain-seller, not a linen-draper.’

The Earl was ashen. ‘Lord! And they were pilfered from a brothel? Tell Neve to take them down at once! Christ God! What shall I do if the whores find out and assume that
I
am the thief?’

‘They will not, sir.’ Then Chaloner reconsidered. Temperance did not like the Earl, and would love a tale that showed him in a less than favourable light. For her, it would be a joke, but it would do the Earl immeasurable harm. He supposed he would have to beg her discretion. ‘I shall arrange for Baron’s arrest today.’

‘No!’ squeaked the Earl. ‘That would entail me being called as a witness in a criminal case, and then the whole story would come out. There is only one way to ensure he is not in a position to harm me – by proving he killed Wheler. How are you proceeding with that?’

‘Spymaster Williamson also thinks he is responsible,’ hedged Chaloner, unwilling to admit that he had made no headway on that front.

‘Yes!’ hissed the Earl, his face hardening. ‘Work with Williamson, and see about putting a noose around Baron’s neck as soon as you can.’

‘Williamson wants my help with another matter, too. There are rumours that something will happen on Cheapside this Tuesday, and he fears that it might precipitate a run on the banks.’

‘Then help him stop it!’ cried the Earl, aghast. ‘We cannot risk fiscal chaos when we need money for the war. And speaking of the war, what have you learned about my would-be spy, other than the fact that he died of the plague?’

‘Just that his idea of intelligence-gathering was to shove a hook through the windows of Dutchmen and see what he could snag.’ As the Earl clearly thought this was a perfectly reasonable thing to do, Chaloner hastened to explain. ‘Good spies do not leave sensitive documents lying around in the open, so DuPont could never have supplied you with anything useful.’

‘Oh,’ said the Earl deflated. ‘I suppose not.’

‘I spoke to one of his targets, but it was a case of mistaken identity, and I suspect we will find the same is true of the others, too. I have someone looking for them as we speak.’ Assuming Silas was doing what he promised, of course.

‘Do you think DuPont took the plague to Cheapside?’

‘I am not sure the plague
is
on Cheapside. It probably killed the Howard family, but the other “cases” are likely to be something else. Unfortunately, houses are being shut up anyway – unless their occupants can afford to bribe the searchers.’

‘I was afraid that might happen. I shall raise the matter with the Privy Council, although I cannot see sensible solutions emerging from that direction. My colleagues’ main concern about an outbreak is whether the Court will have more fun in Oxford or Salisbury.’

‘What will you do, sir? Stay or go?’

‘I do not want to leave my lovely house,’ said the Earl, looking around fondly. ‘But I shall have to follow the King. I cannot have my detractors running the country without me. They would have us declaring war on more innocent nations.’

The interview over, Chaloner went to collect Temperance. She was surrounded by manly admirers, and was reluctant to leave.

‘Will you not present me to the Earl, Tom?’ she simpered, to a chorus of amused titters.

‘You will have a better time with us,’ she was assured fervently by Kipps.

‘I know it is a liberty,’ said Chaloner, once he and Temperance were in her coach, clattering back along Piccadilly, ‘but would you mind not telling anyone that your curtains are currently hanging in the Earl’s Great Parlour?’

‘Yes, I would,’ said Temperance, pulling out her pipe and beginning to create another anti-plague miasma. ‘It will make a tremendous tale to tell my patrons. They will love it.’

‘They will,’ acknowledged Chaloner. ‘But it will do him terrible harm.’

‘So what? If the shoe were on the other foot, would he spare me?’

It was a valid point, because the Earl would not hesitate to condemn a woman who had followed Temperance’s career choices. ‘But if he falls, I will lose my post. And I have debts…’

‘You presume too much on our friendship, Thomas!’ cried Temperance angrily. ‘First, you beg me to take some ancient page because you cannot afford to keep him. Then you drag me to the home of a man I despise. And now you demand my silence on a matter that will afford my customers a good deal of innocent amusement. Is there anything else you want of me?’

‘It will not be
innocent
amusement, Temperance. It is—’

‘I will do it,’ interrupted Temperance sullenly. ‘But the next time I want a favour, you had better be ready to oblige, no matter what it transpires to be.’

The Earl had given Chaloner some letters to deliver to White Hall, and Temperance insisted on dropping him there, not for his convenience, but for the delight of taking her personal carriage inside the palace. He was quick to alight and disappear, disliking the attention the vehicle immediately attracted. He handed his letters to the clerks, then went to the Queen’s apartments, to see whether Hannah had managed to sell their belongings and find them a cheaper place to live.

‘I sold the furniture and took the money to Taylor,’ she said, leading him to a small chamber where they could talk. ‘But he says we still owe him four thousand pounds, although I
swear
I only borrowed three from Backwell. The Duke thinks we will never pay it off, because Taylor will just keep raising the threshold.’

‘The Duke may be right,’ said Chaloner gloomily.

‘In desperation, I offered Taylor our Lely,’ she went on, ‘but he said it is virtually worthless, because it is only of me.’

Chaloner was stunned Taylor should have made such a hurtful remark. ‘That was ungentlemanly.’

‘Yes, it was. He might be Master of the Goldsmiths’ Company, but he has much to learn about manners. Anyway, I took the portrait back to Lely and asked if he would put someone else’s face on it instead. I think he was offended. Regardless, he refused.’ Hannah looked away and Chaloner saw the sparkle of tears. ‘Taylor declined the painting, but he accepted my pearls.’

Chaloner’s heart went out to her. ‘Perhaps we can buy them back one day.’

Hannah attempted a smile, although it was one without hope. ‘That would be nice. Yet my sorrow gained us one thing – the Queen saw me crying later, and wheedled the tale out of me. She has arranged for her equerry to take our house. We move out tomorrow.’

‘Good. And tell Gram to go to Temperance – she will give him work.’

‘She is a kind lady,’ sniffed Hannah. ‘Are you sure she cannot lend us some money? I would far rather be in her debt than Taylor’s. Or Shaw’s for that matter. At Silas’s soirée, he indelicately reminded me that I forgot to pay for that flageolet. I expect such vulgarity from bankers, but he is music-seller to the Court!’

‘But a banker once.’ Chaloner shot her a dour look. ‘And please do not tell him any more lies about the alum mines. It is unfair.’

‘I cannot help myself. He and Lettice are such ridiculous people.’ She saw Chaloner’s disapproving expression. ‘I will put matters straight when I next see them. Of course, that is unlikely to be very soon … However, I must go; I left the Queen with Brodrick, but her English has improved recently, so she understands a lot more of what people say to her.’

She hurried away before Chaloner could ask what manner of conversation the Earl’s rakish cousin liked to hold with Her Majesty. He walked back through the palace bowed down with worry. Buckingham was right: Taylor
would
keep raising the threshold of the debt, as that was how usurers worked, and he and Hannah might never be free of the man. His thoughts snapped back to the present when someone touched his shoulder. It was Williamson, who reared away in alarm when Chaloner whipped around with a dagger. Swaddell hastily stepped between them.

‘What have you decided about my offer?’ asked Williamson, once he had regained his composure.

Much as he disliked the notion of working for the Spymaster, Chaloner knew he had no choice. And if Williamson reneged or Taylor refused to relent? He pushed that possibility from his mind – he did not want even to consider it. ‘I will do as you ask,’ he said quietly.

Williamson’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘And your conditions?’

Chaloner had not expected to be allowed to stipulate any, so he hastened to list a few. ‘That you eliminate
all
Hannah’s debts, but especially the one with Taylor. Permanently.’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Williamson impatiently. ‘That is already understood. We have also made a start on that other business – one of my clerks recommended Baron to Lord Lauderdale, who has opened negotiations for a set of bed hangings. But is there anything else?’

Chaloner was tempted to ask for a post with the intelligence services – one that would see him sent overseas where he could return to the work at which he excelled – but there was always a danger that Williamson would avenge himself by giving him especially dangerous assignments. He settled for a more practical request instead.

‘That if anything happens to me, you will look after Hannah. She might need a protector.’

‘Done,’ said Williamson promptly. ‘And here are
my
terms. You will report to me and only to me. And you and Swaddell will combine forces to—’