Death in St James's Park (44 page)

‘No,’ agreed O’Neill smugly. ‘You will not.’

Chaloner regarded the Controller sharply. Was it just pleasure at seeing an old adversary defeated that gave him his mien of haughty triumph? Or was it delight because Bishop was continuing to provide the perfect foil for the Devill’s Worke?

‘Discredit O’Neill?’ echoed Bishop in mock surprise. ‘I assure you, he is quite capable of doing that for himself – with his natural ineptitude.’

Chaloner turned back to the Earl. ‘We need to learn what Fry and Oxenbridge are—’

‘You arrogant bastard!’ spat O’Neill, taking several steps towards Bishop. ‘How dare you accuse me of ineptitude when
you
were dismissed because you were corrupt and indolent? At least everyone knows that I am honest.’

‘Are you?’ Bishop smiled lazily as he addressed Clarendon. ‘Check the Post Office accounts, My Lord. You will find wild discrepancies between what is produced in the official record and what is really in the coffers – and between what O’Neill says he earns and what he actually takes home. It was a dreadful mistake to appoint him and—’

‘Your hatred has blinded
you to reason, Bishop,’ interrupted the Earl. ‘Has it not occurred to you that your accomplices will tell the truth once they know the alternative is the gibbet?’

‘They will,’ gushed Morland, sidling up to him. ‘And I can remember most of the figures on that vital document they burned a short while ago. I shall write them down for you.’

‘There is no need.’ Chaloner pulled the page from his pocket. Morland shot him a venomous glare, and there were groans from the clerks. ‘But this is not important now, sir. We must—’

The Earl snatched it from him, scanning it with the eye of a man who was used to heady figures. Meanwhile, Bishop’s dog had decided that Gery was a worthy target for its fangs, and was busying itself around the marshal’s legs, barking all the while. The Earl raised a hand to his head.

‘Can no one silence that damned beast? I cannot think while it is carrying on.’

‘She is not a “damned beast”,’ objected Bishop, brushing a soldier aside contemptuously as he went to retrieve his pet. ‘She is just appalled at the wickedness perpetrated here by O’Neill.’

O’Neill replied in kind and then a spat was under way, raised voices driving the dog into an even greater paroxysm of snaps and yips. Chaloner tried again to reason with the Earl, but could not make himself heard over the hubbub. Then Morland pulled him to one side, an expression on his face that Chaloner did not like at all.

‘We both emerged unscathed,’ the secretary said silkily. ‘Well, you sound like a rusty saw, but that will pass in a day or two. We should thank God for such a successful outcome.’

‘You were part of their plot, Morland. Not
even your sly tongue will see you slither out of this, because I shall stand witness against you.’

‘I was working undercover,’ objected Morland indignantly. ‘Pretending to be part of Bishop’s scheme in order to catch him. You must have done similar things during your life of espionage.’

‘Not nearly so convincingly.’

Morland bowed. ‘I shall take that as a compliment. But you know I am telling the truth, because not once did I urge anyone to kill you – which I would have done, had I really been one of them. I told them to take you prisoner, at which point I would have helped you escape.’

‘As you helped me escape from White Hall last night?’

‘You survived, did you not? And I have tried constantly to keep you out of danger. How many times did you hear me urge Gery to arrest you? That was to keep you safely locked away.’

‘Knight was not very safe when he was locked away.’

‘No,’ acknowledged Morland. ‘And that is a pity. But never mind him. How could you imagine that I would defraud the Post Office? What do you think I am?’

Chaloner would have told him, but the Earl approached at that point and he disliked bad language. ‘You accepted bribes,’ he said instead.

‘Prove it,’ challenged Morland.

Chaloner grabbed his coat and shook it, so that the coins jangled in his pocket. Rage flashed briefly across Morland’s face, but it was so quickly suppressed that Chaloner wondered if he had imagined it. With cool aplomb, Morland presented the purse to the Earl.

‘I almost forgot,’ he said with a serene smile. ‘Take it, My Lord. It is yours.’

The Earl’s eyes gleamed. He
liked money and was always claiming that he did not have enough of it. Chaloner’s heart sank, suspecting the gesture was enough to ‘prove’ Morland’s loyalty, and might even serve to protect him from awkward questions.

‘You treacherous snake, Morland,’ shouted Lamb, struggling furiously as Gery’s soldiers hustled him away. ‘You were always one of us. Indeed, some of the ideas were yours, such as how to forge Bishop-Marks and the machine that opens letters.’

‘Will they be hanged, sir?’ asked Morland, contemptuously turning his back on him. ‘It seems your safest option.’

‘No,’ replied the Earl. ‘I shall ship them to Jamaica. We do not want the general public to lose faith in the Post Office by executing this many felonious officials.’

O’Neill offered to help the soldiers escort Bishop and his clerks to Newgate, and as it was an odd thing for a Controller to do, Chaloner started to follow, but the Earl called him back.

‘We have not finished here yet,’ he said softly. ‘You cannot leave.’

Chaloner watched them go, hoping Gery’s men would be equal to keeping hold of their prisoners – and equal to protecting them, too, should O’Neill decide that it might be better for him if they never reached their destination. Then he turned his mind to more important matters. ‘The Devill’s Worke is—’

‘The Devill’s Worke!’ sneered Morland. ‘He does not know what he is talking about, sir. Allow me to explain what is really going on.’

Chaloner chafed with growing
agitation as Morland gave a highly subjective, rambling and largely untrue account of what had happened, punctuated by irrelevant asides from Gery, who was eager not to lose too much glory to his self-serving underling. It was a shocking waste of valuable time, but Chaloner could not speak loudly enough to contradict them. Eventually, the Earl silenced Morland with a flap of his hand and turned questioning eyes on his intelligencer.

‘Lamb overheard Rea talking yesterday, sir,’ croaked Chaloner. ‘The Devill’s Worke will—’

‘He is overwrought,’ interrupted Morland, patting Chaloner’s arm patronisingly, but desisting hastily when he saw the dark expression on the spy’s face. ‘Lamb and Harper came close to killing him, and it has affected his judgement. Nothing bad will happen today.’

‘It was your own fault that rescue was delayed, Chaloner,’ added Gery with a spiteful grin. Chaloner supposed he should not be surprised that the marshal still considered him an enemy, given what had happened on the banks of the Thames. ‘I went to the Crown first, because that is where you said this great crisis would be. We lost God knows how many precious minutes before the Earl told us to come here instead.’

‘Was Dorislaus waiting to brief you?’ Chaloner could only hope that the Earl would remember enough of their earlier conversation to distil truth from all the lies that were being spun.

‘Who is Dorislaus?’ asked the Earl.

Chaloner’s throat hurt too much to explain. ‘Where is Williamson?’

‘I sent for him, but he never
responded,’ replied the Earl. ‘Perhaps he is away from home. I rounded up as many of his men as I could find, but they were pitifully few, so I was obliged to use Gery’s soldiers, too. However, I thought they rose to the occasion ably enough. Where is Thurloe?’

Chaloner shook his head to say he did not know. He was now sure something was wrong, because the ex-Spymaster would have come had he been able.

‘You did well, Chaloner,’ said the Earl, poring over the paper snatched at such cost.

‘We all did, sir,’ said Morland smoothly. ‘I confess there were times when I thought Bishop might best me, but you arrived to save the day. It is over now, and we can all go home.’

‘It is not over and—’ Chaloner tried to speak more loudly when Morland interrupted again, but only succeeded in making himself cough.

‘Who would have thought that the Post Office would harbour so many villains?’ the secretary sighed. ‘Thank God we have rooted them all out. We can sleep easy in our beds tonight.’

‘No, we cannot,’ said the Earl sharply. ‘Chaloner is right – this business is far from over. And Freer is fetching someone who may be able to help us decide what to do next. Ah. Here he is now.’

Chaloner turned to see Freer walking through the door. Behind him were the Major and his two yeomen. The Major was ashen-faced and frightened, an expression that intensified tenfold when he saw Harper’s body.

‘Christ God!’ he breathed. ‘What is going on? Why have you brought me here?’

‘We owe you an apology,’ said the Earl briskly. ‘Something catastrophic is about to happen, and Gery was wrong to insist that we ignore vital parts of your intelligence.’

Gery opened his mouth to argue, but the
Earl glowered so fiercely that he shut it again without speaking. Chaloner sagged with relief that his master was finally standing up to the man.

‘Tell us about this Devill’s Worke, Major,’ the Earl ordered.

‘But it is probably too late to do anything about it now,’ cried the Major, distressed. ‘And why should I believe this sudden change of heart after so many weeks?’

‘Because it will be treason to do otherwise,’ replied the Earl coolly.

The Major gulped, but remained defiant. ‘What will you do? Lock me in the Tower?’

‘Oh, I think I can devise something a little more colourful than that,’ said the Earl in a softly menacing voice that Chaloner had never heard him use before. ‘I have been blind, thinking about my son, but my eyes are open now, and they are looking for felons who harm my country.’

The Major nodded slowly. ‘Well, as you seem to be taking me seriously at last, I shall tell you what I suspect, and pray to God that you are in time to act. I have heard whispers about Palmer and the book he is to publish. It is on an unpopular subject by a man London hates – they see him as responsible for his wife’s peccadilloes.’

Understanding flashed in Chaloner’s mind. ‘The assassination? It will be him?’

‘I cannot say for certain, but it makes sense,’ replied the Major. ‘I have been afraid that I might be the target, but on reflection, I do not think I am sufficiently important. Not any more. I might have been eighteen months ago, but I am nothing now.’

‘True,’ agreed the Earl baldly. ‘Chaloner, go and tell Palmer to stay at home until further notice. Take Gery and Freer with you. Palmer is a decent man, and I will not see his blood spilled.’

‘He will probably be at
Speed’s shop on Fleet Street,’ said Chaloner, although he had no idea of the time. ‘His book will be sold for the first time today.’

‘Well, go there, then,’ said the Earl irritably. ‘And Morland will walk to Newgate, to ensure that Bishop and his creatures are properly secured.’

‘I will go with Morland,’ offered Freer quickly, making Chaloner suspect that he was not the only one who distrusted the slippery secretary. ‘While Chaloner and Gery save Palmer.’

‘You will go where I say,’ barked the Earl. ‘Well? What are you waiting for?’

‘Even an assassination is not the worst you should expect today, sir,’ rasped Chaloner, risking a reprimand by not immediately scrambling to obey like the others, Morland smirking gloatingly at Freer as he went. ‘There is still John Fry.’

‘I know,’ said the Earl shortly. ‘But unless you have learned something new, we have no idea how to go about apprehending him. However, we
can
save Palmer. And while you do, the Major and I will sit here and review all he has learned. Perhaps we can find answers between us.’

Chaloner was alarmed. ‘You cannot stay here! O’Neill may return.’

‘He will not. He is enjoying himself too much crowing over Bishop. But why should it matter if he comes back anyway?’

Chaloner did not want to level accusations when he had no solid evidence. Besides, there were more pressing matters to address before he left. ‘Thurloe,’ he rasped to the Major. ‘Last night …’

The Major looked away. ‘I was a
coward, and refused to tell him what he wanted to know. I am sorry, but I was frightened. I still am.’

‘Was Dorislaus with him?’

‘Yes, although he kept his distance. They left together, but I do not know where they went. Why?’

‘Ask this later,’ said the Earl warningly. ‘You are wasting time and Palmer’s life is at stake.’

‘Just one more thing,’ said the Major, catching Chaloner’s arm as he turned to leave. ‘I cannot vouch for its truth, but I heard a whisper in the Antwerp that the assassins may be two veterans from the New Model Army. I believe their names are Stokes and Cliffe.’

Chaloner’s heart sank. He did not want to challenge soldiers who had fought bravely for their country and were disillusioned with what they had spilled blood to achieve.

‘Parliamentarians,’ said the Earl with pursed lips. ‘I might have known.’

Outside the Post Office, Chaloner glanced towards Storey’s house, but there was no sign of Dorislaus. He faltered, his heart clamouring at him to forget Palmer and concentrate on finding Thurloe, but he knew he would be wasting his time – as Dorislaus had pointed out, he did not know where to start.

‘I was beginning to think you were not coming,’ said Gery, as Chaloner caught up with him and Freer on Dowgate Hill. ‘Are you frightened? Stay behind, then. We can manage without you.’

‘Ignore him, Tom,’ murmured Freer. ‘He is just vexed that it was you, not he, who exposed the corrupt clerks after all his efforts. But watch yourself – he is a vengeful enemy.’

Chaloner did not need to be told. He said
nothing, concentrating on reaching Fleet Street as quickly as possible. It was snowing, great white flakes settling in a thick carpet that made moving at speed difficult. As before, the roads were devoid of traders and carts, and most of those braving the bitter weather were men who had gathered on street corners or in gangs outside taverns and coffee houses. Many wore items of clothing that marked their affiliation to a particular guild, and the atmosphere was tense and strained.