‘Then let us drink to Lisle’s success,’ said Scot, producing a flask of wine from under his coat. ‘God knows, I would like to see him score a victory over that treacherous Wiseman – a fellow I would not trust were he the last man on Earth. Why did you leave Eaffrey’s house so quickly yesterday, by the way? I know it was a grim evening, but it was unlike you to rush off without thanking your hosts.’
‘There was something I needed to do for the Webb investigation,’ Chaloner replied vaguely.
‘Webb,’ mused Scot. ‘I listened to Silence wax lyrical about her husband last night. Did you know he bought land cheaply in Ireland after the civil wars – land that had been confiscated from Royalists?’
Chaloner stared at him. ‘When the monarchy was restored, most of those estates were returned to their original owners, and the people who had bought them were ousted.’
‘Quite. So Webb had a good reason for hoping the Castle Plot would succeed. It would have meant the return of his farms.’
‘So he may have taken part, after all.’ Chaloner frowned. ‘But this makes no sense. Bristol’s letter stated that Webb had betrayed the Castle Plot, and Dillon and the others killed him for doing it. Why would Webb betray something that would have seen his lands given back to him?’
‘Perhaps Webb did nothing of the kind,’ suggested Scot. ‘Are you sure Dillon was a rebel? No, you are not. All you know is that he was in Ireland at the salient time, and that he said his name was O’Brien. Perhaps Webb did want the revolt to succeed, and Dillon killed him for a traitor. You do not know who Dillon works for, so you cannot know what side he was on in Ireland. Oh, and Eaffrey asked me to tell you that she saw Dillon go into Clarendon’s house once, at midnight.’
Chaloner was bemused. ‘Clarendon is the mysterious master who will snatch Dillon from the jaws of death? If so, then Dillon is going to be disappointed: my Earl is not a dramatic sort of man, and if he wanted Dillon pardoned, he would have done it by now. How long has Eaffrey known about this?’
‘Ever since a recent drive past Worcester House prompted a half-forgotten memory of a man in an odd hat silhouetted in an upstairs window. She planned to tell you yesterday, but there was no time.’
‘She found time to tell you, though,’ observed Chaloner.
Scot glanced sharply at him, then smiled. ‘I conclude from that ambiguous remark that you saw us together. You did not slink off the moment an escape route presented itself, but lingered, waiting for everyone else to leave. I should have known you were not far away.’
‘Have you been lovers for long?’ It was none of Chaloner’s business, but they were friends, and he was curious by nature and training.
‘More than a year. We wanted to tell you, but it is difficult to find a quiet moment these days. She is going to have my child.’
‘Behn will be surprised. I imagine he is under the impression that she wants to marry him, given the looks of simmering adoration she throws in his direction. Does she intend to have you both, then?’
Scot laughed. ‘Marriage and love are hardly the same thing. Yes, she will marry Behn, but it is not a partnership that will last. He is already unfaithful, and makes regular visits to Silence Webb, among others. We hope Eaffrey will be a wealthy woman once she offers to leave him in return for a settlement.’
‘You are encouraging her to marry Behn with the express purpose of acquiring an alimony? That is sordid!’
Scot was unrepentant. ‘The government confiscated my father’s estates after his execution, and I do not want our child to grow up poor. Do you really disapprove? I thought you disliked slavery – and the victim of our “deception” is one of its greatest proponents.’
‘Could you not just sabotage his new ship instead?’
‘God, no!’ exclaimed Scot with a shudder. ‘I shall have to travel to Surinam by boat, and I am superstitious about that kind of thing. However, Behn is a wicked villain behind that courtly veneer–’
‘What courtly veneer?’
Scot was lost in a world of his own. ‘I had a good look around his private office yesterday, when I was waiting for him to tire of Eaffrey and go to Silence. He has documents written in cipher. Now why would a merchant use cipher?’
‘To protect himself against men like you, presumably. Could you decode them?’
‘I could not – not in the time I had. I tell you, Chaloner, the man is no angel. These messages are probably reports from criminals, telling him dirty secrets about his rivals. I know for a fact that he consorts with low types, because I have seen him with them – in particular a thickset fellow with a scarred neck, who always visits after dark. Do you really object to us defrauding a man like that?’
Chaloner shrugged. ‘It is none of my affair.’
Scot regarded him thoughtfully. ‘Do you remember the letter sent anonymously to Bristol – the one that saw me placed in an awkward position and Dillon convicted of Webb’s murder? Well, it occurs to me that Behn might have sent it.’
‘Why? He has nothing to do with–’
‘He receives coded letters,’ snapped Scot. ‘So do not tell me he is innocent in the world of spying. I imagine he would love our intelligence services to be thrown into disarray, because it would allow him greater freedom to do whatever it is he does.’ He sighed impatiently. ‘You do not believe me.’
‘It is easier to cheat a man you despise than one you like – you are trying to convince yourself that he is unsavoury, not me. How can you bear him to touch Eaffrey, if she is your wife in all but name?’
Scot was surprised by the question. ‘My previous wife slept with all manner of men to provide me with the secrets necessary for my work. If you were married, your woman would do the same.’
‘No,’ said Chaloner firmly. ‘She would not.’
‘When you are my age, you may think differently.’
‘The Guinea Company feast,’ said Chaloner suddenly. ‘You left early – or “too early to know what happened” in the discussion between Temple and Webb, to quote your own words. You said it was because the lice in Terrell’s wig were bothering you. Was it really to see Eaffrey?’
Scot grinned ruefully. ‘It was a perfect opportunity. Behn is an influential member of the Guinea Company – there is a move afoot to make him Master – so we knew he would be there all night. I stayed at African House long enough to be noticed, then spent the rest of the night in Eaffrey’s arms, content in the knowledge that Behn had promised to use the other bedroom when he finally returned, so as not to wake her. Such occasions are rare, so must be seized with alacrity when they arise.’
‘I imagine his visits to Silence might provide you with a few.’
Scot’s smile widened. ‘But not as many as we would like.’
Friday dawned warm and clear. The sky was veiled with a thin gauze of cloud that soon burned away, and the sun shone on the chaos of spires and chimneys that was London. Chaloner walked to Ludgate, acutely aware that time was running out for Dillon. He cut through several alleys, emerging near the scruffy patch of land designated as the graveyard to St Bride’s Church, then picked his way along a path that ran parallel to the foetid sludge of the Fleet river. Kites and hawks pecked through the flotsam that had cast up upon its stinking banks, and rats scavenged in the deeper shadows. The stench of urine was powerful enough to sear the back of Chaloner’s throat, and it made his eyes water.