Susanna Gregory - The Butcher Of Smithfield

Lincoln’s Inn’s new astrological device had been bent during one particularly fierce downfall, so it would never track the movements of the stars accurately again, but the foundation was otherwise intact. Chaloner knocked on the door to Chamber XIII, and was admitted by Leybourn. The surveyor had still not gone home, despite his brother sending word that all signs of the explosion — and Mary — had been eradicated.

Thurloe suggested a walk in the garden. The sun was shining, a weak, watery orb in a misty sky, and birds sang in trees that dripped. The ground squelched underfoot, a morass of mud and sodden leaves. Gardeners were out in force, gathering fallen branches and sweeping paths. One sang a song about love, and Leybourn snorted his derision.

‘So, you have answers to all your questions, Tom,’ said Thurloe, to distract Leybourn from bitter thoughts. ‘Brome and Joanna — but mostly Joanna — conceived the notion of listening in coffee houses for details of valuable horses and the movements of their owners. This information was converted into a code in music, and was sent to Ireton and the Hectors.’

‘The Hectors stole the horses,’ said Chaloner. ‘And most victims bought notices in the newsbooks. Some nags were returned and the rewards claimed; others were sold.’

‘Why did they sell some of them?’ asked Leybourn. ‘Why not return them all?’

‘Because that would have aroused suspicion,’ explained Chaloner. ‘In fact, at one point, Joanna thought they were returning too many, and wrote a note telling Ireton to hold back. Somehow Finch got hold of it, probably through Newburne. Anyway, the horse thefts fulfilled two functions.’

‘First, making money from the rewards or the sale of these stolen horses,’ said Thurloe. ‘And second, making money for the newsbooks. Those advertisements cost five shillings a time.’

‘Three functions, then,’ said Chaloner. ‘They also made the newsbooks popular, which meant an increased circulation — more copies printed and more sold.’

‘ Four functions,’ said Thurloe with a smile. ‘An increased circulation means the government has better control of the news — and therefore of the hearts and minds of the people. Everyone believed that tale about the vicar of Wollaston’s soiled prayer-book, but it was almost pure fabrication. Apparently, the book was accidentally left open when a bird flew past, but L’Estrange reported it in his own inimical way to make a point about religious phanatiques.’

‘Because L’Estrange is something of a phanatique himself, Williamson does not trust his judgement,’ Chaloner went on. ‘He recruited Newburne and Brome to spy on him.’

Leybourn gave the ghost of a smile. ‘Williamson is almost as stupid as his lumbering Hickes. He chose two men who were deeply involved in the horse business and with the Hectors.’

‘Joanna and Brome killed Newburne when he tried to cheat them,’ said Thurloe. ‘They killed Finch because he was interested in the coded music. They killed Colonel Beauclair, because he caught the horse thieves in the act. And they killed the two sedan-chairmen, because they carried Beauclair’s body to White Hall.’

‘Meanwhile, Smegergill decided he wanted to inherit his best friend’s property sooner, rather than later,’ said Chaloner. ‘But first, he wanted to add to it. He worked Maylord into a fury of indignation over Newburne’s dishonesty with the profits from the costermongery, and devised a plan to steal the solicitor’s jewels. It entailed Maylord teaching Newburne the flageolet.’

Thurloe took up the tale. ‘Unfortunately for everyone concerned, Maylord learned about the horse thefts when he happened across some of the odd music in Newburne’s house. The knowledge that he had unearthed Hector business terrified him.’

Chaloner frowned. Here was something that did not quite ring true. ‘Did it? I thought we had agreed that he was stronger than that.’

Thurloe shook his head. ‘Going to the authorities with what he knew was equal to signing his own death warrant. Of course he was afraid.’

‘Was Smegergill involved in the thefts?’ asked Leybourn.

Chaloner nodded. ‘Yes, but I am not sure whether he demanded a piece of the action after Maylord made his discovery, or whether he was in it from the start. However, I know he was presented with some stolen horses for his services, because Greeting told me so.’

‘And he was prepared to go to considerable lengths to retrieve the incriminating “documents” from Maylord’s room,’ added Thurloe. ‘I suspect Ireton involved him long before Maylord stumbled across the secret.’

‘I imagine you are right,’ said Leybourn. ‘Everything I have heard about him indicates he was not a man to let a lucrative opportunity pass. And he and Ireton were friends, after all.’

‘So, poor Maylord had to be silenced before he could reveal what the Hectors were doing,’ said Thurloe. ‘Ireton was quite happy to oblige, and Smegergill helped. Foolishly, though, neither of them thought to ask where Maylord had hidden the music before they smothered him.’

‘Or the key to Newburne’s box,’ said Chaloner. ‘The second of the pair that he thought — wrongly, I imagine — would allow him to claim Newburne’s jewels. Smegergill was doubtless delighted that his friend’s riches would soon be his, but was concerned about how Maylord’s death would look, too.’

‘Because he would be the obvious suspect for the murder?’ asked Leybourn.

Thurloe nodded. ‘So he and Ireton left a cucumber at the scene, to conceal what had really happened. He would have knocked you over the head as soon as you had provided him with what he wanted, Thomas. You felt guilty about his death, but he brought it on himself.’

‘What about Dury?’ asked Leybourn. ‘Who killed him?’

‘One of the Hectors, on Joanna’s orders,’ said Chaloner. ‘He was investigating them too, and was coming close to the truth. He was lured to Smithfield and strangled in Hodgkinson’s print-shop. Hodgkinson was probably complicit in the affair, although his role is a murky one. I have no idea who owned his real allegiance.’

‘I am sorry about your cat,’ said Leybourn, after they had walked in silence for a few minutes. ‘It survived the flood and made its way back to your room, but I heard it died in the explosion that took place there.’

‘What explosion?’ demanded Thurloe, shocked. ‘You have not mentioned this before.’

‘I forgot,’ said Chaloner.

‘You forgot an explosion?’ asked Thurloe incredulously.

‘Secretive,’ said Leybourn to the ex-Spymaster. ‘I told you, he is secretive. But I shall tell you about it. It was set by Brome and Joanna. After using Hodgkinson to find out what Tom had learned about his operation, Brome tried to shoot him, but missed. Brome killed Hodgkinson, though, then fled, because he had no more ammunition for his gun and knew he could not defeat Tom in a sword fight. However, he had already set the trap in Tom’s room — he must have done it early, because otherwise the bridges would have been closed, and he would not have been able to get there.’

‘Fortunately, the powder was damp,’ said Chaloner, wanting an end to the tale. ‘The “explosion” was reduced to a very loud hiss, according to my landlord.’

‘What was he doing in your rooms?’ asked Thurloe curiously.

‘He went to let the cat in. The device was set to ignite when the fire was lit, which my landlord did to dry off the cat.’

‘But the landlord survived,’ said Thurloe. ‘Does this mean the cat did, too?’

‘It hissed back, apparently. It is alive and well, and making the most of London’s rats.’