Thurloe was not so rash as to go to a public place without a disguise, partly because he still had enemies who wanted him dead, but also because crowds had a habit of turning into mobs, and once-powerful Parliamentarian spymasters made for tempting targets. He wore the drab uniform of a chancery clerk, and his face was half hidden by the kind of bandage worn by those who had toothache. A wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes meant very little of him could be seen.
‘How is Will?’ asked Chaloner, hoping the surveyor had been left in a safe place.
‘Prynne and I carried him to my quarters after the explosion. He is currently sound asleep.’
‘You will not try to cure him with one of your remedies, will you?’ asked Chaloner uneasily. Leybourn might awake too befuddled to refuse, and he did not want him made worse. He saw Thurloe was offended that he was perceived as a menace to helpless drunks so added, ‘Who knows what Yates might have done to them?’
‘The first thing my servant did when he returned was pour them all down the drain. Temple will be disappointed if he thinks his creature might still succeed in harming me.’
‘Does Prynne believe the destruction of his wall was due to heavenly fury?’ Chaloner asked to change the subject. He hoped he had not done so much damage that the old lawyer was suspicious.
‘He says he cannot be sure, but the other benchers say they know a Divine Sign when they see one, and they are more willing to oppose him – and the King – now they think God is on their side.’
‘Will it save your trees?’
Thurloe smiled. ‘I believe it might. We cannot leave a gaping hole in our defences, and Prynne has already been forced to hire masons to begin repairs. He is dismayed by the additional expense, and I think he can be persuaded to work the remaining trees into his grand design. I have lost a portion of my orchard, and he will have a reduced expanse of grass, but we can both live with that.’
‘I dislike these occasions,’ said Chaloner, reacting sharply when he felt a hand slip into his pocket. The thief reeled away clutching a bleeding arm, and Chaloner returned the dagger to his sleeve. ‘There must be ten thousand spectators here, enough for a riot of enormous proportion.’
‘I would sooner be at home, too, but I want to know the identity of Dillon’s master, and I do not trust anyone but myself to deduce the right answer from what occurs. Come with me. I have hired a cartwheel for us to stand on – we will not see a thing otherwise. There are simply too many people.’
A great cheer went up from the distant city, and Chaloner supposed the cart carrying the convicts had started its journey from Newgate. He followed Thurloe to a place where a number of semi-permanent structures had been rented to spectators over the years. There were several large wheels, all with spokes arranged like ladders, along with a stand of crudely stepped planks, where people could sit but still be high enough to enjoy the view. These cost a good deal of money, so only the wealthy could afford them – especially for an occasion like the execution of a man who thought he was going to be rescued. Chaloner was not surprised to see Temple perched on the highest tier, his mouth almost disappearing under his nose as he devoured something with his toothless jaws. And nor was he surprised to see Alice, thinking uncharitably that a hanging was exactly the kind of entertainment that would appeal to her bitter soul.
He was surprised to see Eaffrey however, because he thought she had more taste. She was with Behn, who looked as though he was thoroughly enjoying himself. He had bought oranges from a fruit-seller, and was sharing them with Temple and Alice. Eaffrey declined, and Chaloner thought she looked pale. He waited until the seat-vendor was looking the other way, then slipped past him to join the chattering party on the top rung. Behn grimaced in annoyance when Chaloner insinuated himself between him and Eaffrey, and Alice pointedly looked the other way.
‘I expected Silence Webb to invite me to join her party,’ said Temple, as if to explain why he had not secured himself a better place. ‘She has been allocated a spot at the front, because Dillon is the rogue who killed her husband. Unfortunately, the surgeons got there first. Damned vultures! You can see them with her now – but only because they want to make sure they get the body.’
Chaloner looked towards the gallows, and saw a number of barber-surgeons forming a solicitous circle around Silence. Lisle had a fatherly hand on her shoulder, although she did not seem particularly distressed by the occasion. On the contrary, she was revelling in the attention; her eyes sparkled, and so did the jewels at her throat. Johnson and Reynell stood next to a coffin. Both carried unsheathed swords, and Reynell appeared to be terrified. With them was a gaggle of apprentices, blades flashing as they kept the crowd at bay. Chaloner could hear Johnson’s braying voice informing anyone who happened to be listening that oranges rotted the bladder, because they were caustic.
‘Silence may have neglected you, but she invited me,’ said Behn to Temple. Then he shot Eaffrey a false and wholly unconvincing smile. ‘I declined, because I prefer to be with my sweet lady.’
‘Johan and I have quarrelled,’ said Eaffrey in a low, sad voice to Chaloner, when Behn and Temple began to discuss the pros and cons of standing too near the scaffold when a man was hanged. ‘He thinks you and I are lovers, and he finds himself jealous.’
‘Good,’ said Chaloner. ‘It might make him appreciate you more, and forgo the pleasures offered by Silence and Maude.’
‘And Adrian May’s mother,’ added Eaffrey with a rueful smile. ‘Johan seems to like crones, so perhaps he will leave me alone once we are married. I will not complain. He is a bit of an ape.’
‘An ape with deep pockets.’
She smiled wanly. ‘I sincerely hope so. I understand William told you our plan? Do not be too harsh on us, Tom. It is not as if Johan is kind or decent.’
Suddenly, Behn lurched violently to one side, rocking the structure hard with the obvious intention of making Chaloner lose his balance and fall. Unfortunately for him, it was not the spy who took a tumble off the back, but Temple. Alice gave a shriek of horror and tried to clamber towards her beau, but her skirts snagged in the rough wood, and the more she struggled, the more firmly she became ensnared. Behn’s fumbling attempts to free her made matters worse, and so did Temple’s increasingly agitated demands for help; he had landed in a morass of rotten fruit peelings left from previous executions, and the midden was too slippery for an escape under his own power.
‘Have you seen William, Tom?’ asked Eaffrey, studiously ignoring the melee. ‘He was supposed to visit last night, but he failed to arrive. It is unlike him to miss an assignation without sending word, and I have looked everywhere for him. I even visited Thurloe, and since relations between those two have been strained since William changed sides during the collapse of the Commonwealth, you can tell how desperate I am.’
‘I have not seen him since Thursday – two days ago – but he knows how to look after himself.’
‘I found a body yesterday,’ she whispered. Chaloner glanced at her in shock, and saw the deep unhappiness in her eyes. ‘In Johan’s office. I think he killed the man.’
Chaloner was alarmed. ‘Then you cannot go home with Behn today, and if Scot was here, he would say the same thing. Stay with me – or I will take you to Scot’s rooms in the Chequer.’
She smiled wanly. ‘No, I shall foist myself on Alice. William told her that he and I are close, so she will not refuse me sanctuary. Johan might try to kill you or Scot for taking me away from him, but he would never harm her, because she is a woman.’
‘Whose body did you find?’ asked Chaloner, hoping her assessment was right. He disliked Alice, but she was Scot’s sister, and he did not want to see her in danger.