‘Forgive the intrusion, ma’am. My name is Thomas Heyden. The Lord Chancellor asked me to convey his personal condolences for your loss.’
Silence’s small eyes gleamed with pleasure. ‘That is nice – he lives next door, you know.’
She adjusted her ample bosom, winked at Chaloner and patted the seat beside her, wanting him to sit closer than was seemly. He pretended not to notice and took a chair in the window.
Silence sighed irritably. ‘Do not perch where I cannot see you. I insist you come over here – but bring me a glass of wine before you come. No, not half a measure – fill it, man! You youngsters do not know the meaning of a “glass” of wine. Do you like my necklace? It is made of real emeralds.’
‘It is very pretty,’ said Chaloner, inspecting it politely. When he tried to move away, she grabbed his wrist and hauled him down next to her. From across the room, he heard Leybourn snigger.
‘Good, now we can talk properly,’ she said, resting her hand on his knee. He started to stand, but she gripped his coat in a way that would have made escape undignified. ‘You look familiar. Are you kin to that rascal Thomas Chaloner, the regicide? My Matthew used to clean his ditches in the old days, and he was always very generous with the ale afterwards.’
‘Your husband cleared ditches?’ asked Chaloner, deftly avoiding the question. ‘I thought he was a merchant.’
‘He found a purse of gold in one sewer, and wise investments set him on the road to wealth. Eventually, he was able to buy a ship, and his fortunes blossomed ever after. Poor Matthew. I am devastated by his death. What is Lord Clarendon going to do about it?’
‘The culprits have already been apprehended,’ said Leybourn. ‘And three men sentenced to hang.’
‘Three out of the nine who were named,’ she said with a pout. ‘Four were pardoned and two disappeared, never to be seen again. I believe they did kill Matthew – he was a strong man, and it would have taken nine felons to subdue him – but I also believe they did it on the orders of someone else. And that same someone then stepped forward and got six of them off.’
‘Who?’ asked Chaloner.
She sniffed and ate an almond. ‘Many men were jealous of my husband. Take Sir Richard Temple, for example. He pretended to be our friend, but he bitterly resented Matthew stealing his customers. Perhaps Matthew did poach them, but competition is the nature of mercantile business, is it not?’
Chaloner was thoughtful. Temple had been on Dillon’s list of suspects, too. Was the toothless politician involved in something untoward? ‘Who else?’
‘I do not like to say it, since Lord Clarendon has been kind enough to send me his personal condolences, but his cousin Brodrick took offence at my husband’s dislike of music. Then there is the Earl of Bristol – he owed Matthew money, and no man likes being in debt.’
‘How much money?’ asked Leybourn.
Silence addressed Chaloner. ‘Only common people talk about money. The Bishop of London told me so, when I asked him how much he earns. Suffice to say Bristol owed us a thousand pounds.’
‘Let’s not talk about money, though,’ murmured Leybourn. Chaloner fought the urge to laugh.
‘But Bristol needed more,’ Silence continued. ‘Matthew promised him – well, promised his broker, since an earl does not ask himself – another three hundred, which would have been paid today. Unfortunately for him, the lawyers have frozen Matthew’s accounts until the will is settled. Still, it will all be mine, so I am not worried.’
‘Webb was willing to lend him more?’ asked Chaloner, startled. ‘Even though Bristol already owed him a small fortune?’
‘Bristol’s broker said he was willing to pay a higher rate of interest for a further advance. However, all this was arranged before we were introduced to him at the Guinea Company dinner, and I learned what kind of man he is.’
‘Webb did not actually know Bristol?’ asked Leybourn, confused. ‘Yet he lent–’
‘All loans are arranged through brokers,’ interrupted Silence, still addressing Chaloner. ‘At least, that is how it works with us sophisticated types. Matthew had never met Bristol, and was looking forward to making his acquaintance at that dinner – he wanted to lend him more money, to secure his long-term friendship. But before they could talk, Bristol made a rude remark about my face patches. I was angry, I can tell you! I was going to tell Matthew to do no more business with him, but Matthew was brutally slain before I could speak to him about it.’
‘Are Temple, Brodrick and Bristol your only suspects?’ asked Chaloner encouragingly.
‘No. There is also Surgeon Wiseman. He took against Matthew for supporting the use of slaves in the production of sugar. He could have plunged a rapier into Matthew’s breast. He is a medical man, after all, and would know where to strike – and he does own a sword.’
‘Every gentleman owns a sword,’ said Chaloner.
Silence ran her fingers down his scabbard. ‘I know gentlemen do. Do you know how to use it?’
‘It is for display,’ said Chaloner, not wanting her to demand a demonstration. ‘Anyone else?’
‘Matthew took a dislike to poor Johan Behn, although Johan would never hurt anyone, so he will not be guilty. Then there is that sluttish Lady Castlemaine, who objected to Matthew calling her a whore – despite the fact that she is one. And he quarrelled with others, too, because he spoke the truth. I cannot name them all, because there are so many.’
‘Will you tell us what happened the night your husband died? I understand you went home early.’
‘I was tired of drunken men pawing me with their hot hands.’ Chaloner heard Leybourn snort his disbelief. ‘So I summoned the carriage, and Matthew said he would follow later. We have our own transport, you see, like all people of worth. The driver saw me inside the door, and he said he would go back for Matthew at midnight, when the dinner was due to finish.’
‘The following day, when you realised Matthew was dead, did you ask the driver whether he had done as he had promised?’
‘No. It was obvious he had not, or Matthew would not have been walking. I sent him a note – I wrote it myself – and put it on the table in his quarters to tell him he was dismissed. I have not seen him since, and good riddance. His laziness gave wicked men an opportunity to kill my Matthew.’
‘When was the funeral?’
‘Last Thursday. I do not approve of delays where corpses are concerned – not after smelling Henry Lawes – but three weeks was the quickest we could manage. I wanted it done properly, you see, with invitations issued to all the right people – people of quality.’
‘Did they come?’ asked Leybourn, a little maliciously.
She glared at him. ‘Most had prior engagements – I obviously chose a bad day. Matthew is in St Paul’s Cathedral now, with all those saints and bishops. We bought space in the vault when we first got rich, although we did not expect him to be in it quite so soon.’
They talked a while longer, but it was clear she knew nothing of relevance. She was bitter enough to make Chaloner wonder whether she had written the message to Bristol containing the nine names, but then he realised her list would have been a good deal longer. He left when her hand began to move up his thigh and Leybourn’s amusement became more difficult to control. Before they escaped from the house, he asked a servant where the driver had lived, and was directed to a room above the stable in the yard.