Susanna Gregory: The Westminster Poisoner

Greene smiled. ‘He will be here soon, and you can see for yourself. He always comes when I kill, probably to make sure I do not weaken and show mercy.’

But the last pieces of the puzzle had snapped into place, and Chaloner knew exactly who Greene’s master was. ‘My belief in your innocence was based on the fact that I was watching your house when Vine was killed, but now I see what happened. Your master told you to leave by another door when you went to commit the crime. And he suggested you hide your wet coat and shoes, too.’

Greene inclined his head. ‘He has a mind for details.’

‘And he was on hand to advise me to look for damp clothing when I returned from Westmister. He chose his victims because they were men who pretended to be upright but were flawed — Chetwynd’s corruption, Langston’s venality, Vine’s liking for blackmail. Earlier, in the Earl’s office, Haddon said he had a gift for detecting wickedness.’

‘He told me the same. He said hypocrisy is endemic at Westminster and White Hall, and that it was necessary to take a stand against it. But here he is now.’

The door opened and the Lord Chancellor’s steward walked in. He was not alone, because the train-band were with him, led by Doling and Payne.

While Greene’s attention was taken by the new arrivals, Chaloner darted towards him. Startled, Greene raised the gun and jerked the trigger, but the weapon flashed in the pan. Chaloner snatched it from him and hurled it through a window. Perhaps someone would hear the smashing glass and send for the palace guards. Regardless, he felt better once it was no longer in Greene’s unsteady grip.

He whipped around when the soldiers started to stride towards him, weapons drawn. Their message was unmistakeable: there would be no escape this time. He glanced at Haddon. The walk through the snow had warmed the steward, and he had loosened his collar. There was a faint scar on his throat, like the one the Wapping vicar had described. Chaloner also noticed he was wearing a ruby ring on a string around his neck. Haddon saw him looking at it.

‘Vine ripped it off me in his death throes,’ he explained, tucking it back inside his coat. ‘It belonged to my wife, and I did not want to lose it. Payne retrieved it for me, although I understand you got it first.’

Chaloner gazed at him. ‘I thought you were a gentle man, but you are responsible for four murders: Chetwynd, Vine, Langston and Lea.’

‘I did what was necessary. And I am sorry it must end like this — I had hoped to spare you. My plan was to kill Turner, and have you continue to assert Greene’s innocence, but that is no longer a viable option. Lay hold of him, Doling.’

Chaloner drew his sword as Doling approached, and they exchanged a series of vicious ripostes. But Payne circled behind them, sword jabbing at the spy’s back. When Chaloner spun around to tackle him, Doling knocked the weapon from his hand, enabling the others to seize him. He struggled when he was searched for knives, but it was a token effort, and he knew he was well and truly their prisoner. He did manage to kick Payne on the shin, though, causing the man to leap away with a howl of pain.

‘Do not harm him,’ shouted Haddon urgently, when Payne prepared to exact revenge. ‘We need him unmarked if my plan is to work — Wiseman will notice any suspicious wounds.’

‘He will,’ agreed Chaloner. ‘And he will know I am not the kind of man to swallow poison-’

‘You will drink it,’ interrupted Payne with grim determination. ‘We will make you.’

Chaloner bucked, aiming to free a hand and grab a dagger from one of his captors, but they were too professional to fall for such a trick, and all he did was encourage them to hold him more tightly.

‘You cannot escape from us,’ Payne jeered, clearly delighted to have the troublesome spy at his mercy at last. His grip was hard enough to hurt. ‘Not this time.’

Chaloner was beginning to believe he might be right. But he was not going to go without some sort of fight, and he had two weapons left to him: his tongue and his wits. He would just have to keep Haddon and his cronies talking until he could devise a solution to his predicament. Of course, his wits were like mud, and he could barely put together sensible sentences, let alone formulate a plan that might save his life. But he had to rise to the challenge, because he was determined not to give Payne the satisfaction of defeating him.

‘You are Reeve the corn-chandler,’ he said, trying to force his exhausted mind to function. ‘You disguised yourself to attend the coffee-house meetings, because you wanted to monitor the activities of your victims-’

‘He actually wanted one of us to go,’ interrupted Payne. ‘But Doling refused to be in company with such low villains, while I am not very good at subterfuge. He decided to watch them himself.’

Haddon said nothing, and for a moment there was silence. Chaloner flailed about for something else to say. ‘Why did you use Greene to kill, when you have a train-band at your disposal?’

‘Because it suited me,’ replied Haddon shortly. He turned to Doling. ‘I do not anticipate many clerks will arrive for work this morning, but we should hurry regardless. Besides, I do not want to leave my dogs alone for too long. I am sure I saw Bulteel lurking in Cannon Row when I went there just now.’

Doling did not answer, and his dour face was cold and hard as he watched the steward remove two bottles from a satchel and begin to mix them. The aroma of brandywine began to pervade the hall. It made Chaloner queasy. Payne noticed his reaction and grinned nastily.

‘Matthias Lea declined our concoction at first,’ Payne said. ‘But he drank it in the end. He was a vile creature — he betrayed his old colleagues in order to get a post with the Royalist government. So did his brother, who will shoot himself this evening, wracked by grief over the loss of his kinsman.’

‘You told me Greene was innocent when we met near your lair,’ said Chaloner, supposing he would have to keep Payne talking, given that Doling and Haddon were disinclined to be communicative. Of course, chatting would do him scant good if his wits failed to keep their side of the bargain. ‘Why?’

Payne shrugged. ‘On the off-chance that you might escape. Haddon was not quite finished with him and your belief in his innocence was staying the Earl’s hand — keeping him free to continue our work. It does not matter now, though. We have more villains to dispatch, but we shall use other means.’

‘What other means?’ asked Chaloner. Haddon seemed to be having trouble with his potion, because he was frowning in a way that said he was dissatisfied with it. Greene stepped forward to help.

‘Accidental drownings come next,’ replied Payne gleefully. ‘And after that, mishaps with speeding carriages. Eventually, evil will be eradicated.’

‘Drownings,’ pounced Chaloner. ‘Like Jones. He happened across your domain, so you pushed him in the river.’

‘Actually, he came hurtling down the alley so fast, he could not stop — he sank like a stone. Then you came along. You jumped in the water rather than fight us, then surfaced screeching for rescue.’

‘Jones was a thief,’ said Doling grimly. ‘ His death I do not regret. He stole from the bank that now employs me — the news is all over London.’

‘Do you know why Jones was in the alley?’ asked Chaloner. He could see from the bemused expressions on the soldiers’ faces that they had not thought to ask. ‘Because he was chasing one of Williamson’s spies — a man who subsequently escaped.’

‘Our boat!’ exclaimed Payne. ‘We thought it had been swept away by the tide, but Williamson’s man must have climbed into it and rowed away.’