Williamson nodded. ‘Personally, I am suspicious of Dugdale and Edgeman. The Adventurers comprise many of their employer’s enemies, and I never did understand why they joined.’
‘I think it might be Leighton,’ said Chaloner softly. ‘He lives in Queenhithe, and he does sinister business with the gunsmiths in St Martin’s Lane.’
‘Leighton is high on my list of suspects, too,’ agreed Williamson. ‘He is too smug by half.’
Thurloe suddenly addressed Lester. ‘Do you know the latitude of Tangier?’
Lester blinked. ‘Of course. It is thirty-five degrees and forty-eight minutes. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason,’ replied Thurloe, although he glanced at Chaloner and there was a world of meaning in the look. Lester saw it.
‘Or is it forty-five degrees and thirty-eight minutes? It has been a while since I sailed there.’
It was not long before something began to happen. Secretary Leighton appeared, wearing a thick cloak, but identifiable by his scuttling gait. He approached Katherine silently, and stood staring at her for a moment, a sinister figure in the swirling mist. Then he clapped his hands and suddenly the quay was alive with activity.
Servants hurried from Katherine bringing torches, some of which they held aloft, while others were set into sconces along the walls. These formed bubbles of yellow light, which did little to illuminate matters, and a good deal to reflect the fog. Then a veritable cavalcade arrived, a chaos of prancing horses and rattling hooves. Within moments, the hitherto silent wharf was transformed into a riot of movement and noise. Lights began to burn in the nearby houses, as residents roused themselves from their slumbers to see what was happening.
‘The Adventurers,’ whispered Williamson, although Chaloner and Thurloe did not need to be told. ‘They are early, damn it! Is there nothing that will not conspire against us today? I was hoping for more time, to give my men a chance to return.’
‘No hope of that,’ said Lester grimly. ‘As you said, we are on our own.’
Chaloner watched helplessly as half the Court disgorged from the coaches and aimed for Katherine’s gangway. Leighton scurried forward to greet O’Brien and Kitty, who were both clearly looking forward to what promised to be an unusual occasion. Brodrick was there, too, although there was no sign of Hyde. After them came Grey, Dugdale, Edgeman, Buckingham, Lady Castlemaine and other wealthy and influential people. They assembled in a noisy, chattering throng before being assisted aboard by men in uniforms. The escorts’ unsteadiness on the gangway said they were not sailors, but White Hall servants dressed to emulate them.
‘Was Jane here when you arrived?’ Chaloner asked Williamson. There was no answer, and he looked to see the Spymaster transfixed by the sight of his friend’s wife.
‘Should I go to her?’ the Spymaster asked in a whisper, more to himself than the others. ‘Warn her that mischief is afoot, and that she should leave without delay?’
‘Yes,’ replied Chaloner. ‘And tell her to take everyone else with her.’
‘Tom is right,’ said Thurloe, after a moment. ‘I know it is not for mere spymasters to cancel such occasions — I faced similar restrictions when I held your post — but this is too grave a matter to take chances with. Go to Leighton, explain your concerns.’
‘And what if he is the master?’ asked Williamson wretchedly. ‘It will tell him that we are suspicious, and we will have lost our only advantage — the element of surprise.’
‘True,’ nodded Lester. ‘So we had better hold off until we have a clearer idea of their plans.’
‘What about Tom’s question?’ asked Thurloe, giving the captain a glance full of dark suspicion. ‘Was Jane here when you arrived?’
‘Yes,’ replied Lester. ‘I went aboard briefly, but she was deserted.’
‘Surely that is odd?’ asked Chaloner. ‘I would not leave a ship without a guard in Queenhithe.’
‘Neither would I,’ said Lester. ‘Perhaps the crew had wind of the Adventurers’ attack, and decided to scarper. I do not blame them — I would not give my life protecting a wreck like Jane.’
‘Maybe we are worrying over nothing,’ said Williamson in sudden hope. ‘The Adventurers will not attack her now — not while they are enjoying themselves on the boat next door.’
‘True,’ acknowledged Thurloe. ‘However, the Piccadilly Company’s plan is still set to unfold, and that has always promised to be the more deadly.’
‘Perhaps not even that will happen if Fitzgerald’s master fails to kill Pratt,’ persisted Williamson. ‘You say you sent a man to warn Pratt — that may be enough to retard the entire scheme.’
It was a pleasant thought, but Chaloner did not believe it. He took a deep breath in an effort to summon some energy. ‘Regardless, we are doing no good in here. We need to go aboard Katherine and find out what is happening.’
‘I will come with you,’ offered Lester immediately.
‘No,’ said Thurloe sharply. ‘He does not need your help.’
‘He does,’ countered Lester sharply. ‘I know my way around ships. He does not.’
‘Quite,’ murmured Thurloe in Chaloner’s ear. ‘He will have an unfair advantage.’
‘Perhaps we should all go,’ suggested Williamson worriedly. ‘Two of you will not be able to do much, but four …’
‘You should stay here and be ready to deploy your men, should they return,’ said Lester practically. ‘Besides, it is only a reconnaissance mission. We do not intend to do anything.’
‘Very well,’ said Williamson. ‘But be careful.’
‘Yes,’ said Thurloe pointedly, his eyes boring into Chaloner’s. ‘Be very careful.’
Chaloner followed Lester towards the ships, acutely aware of being watched by Thurloe and Williamson. Or was it other eyes that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, as it always did when he was in danger? Fitzgerald, perhaps, or his master? Because whatever Lester said, Chaloner was certain the pirate would not have left Jane unprotected, especially given that a heavily armed warship containing a lot of Adventurers was moored next to her.
There were two gangways attached to Katherine. The one the Adventurers had used boasted streamers and carpets, and led to the aft end of the upper gun deck. The other was a narrow service entry through a gunport at the bow, intended for crew. A footman had been stationed at the top of the former to deter gatecrashers, and when his back was turned, Chaloner aimed for the second.
‘There is something odd about Jane’s trim,’ said Lester, pausing halfway up the plank to study her. Chaloner grabbed his arm and pulled him on, horrified that he should dawdle when they might be being watched. ‘She is strangely heavy in the bows.’
‘Perhaps only the back half of her has been unloaded.’
Lester smirked at this lack of nautical knowledge. ‘It is more likely that she is taking on water.’
‘The Adventurers will be pleased, then,’ said Chaloner, squeezing through the gunport. ‘If she sinks, they will not have to worry about burning her.’
Once on board, he paused to gain his bearings. Katherine was rich with the scent of new wood and tar, and he was immediately aware of the rhythmic creak of her timbers as she rocked on the ebbing tide. The guests were in the stern, and there was already a lot of noise — the clink of goblets, the plummy laughter of men who were well pleased with themselves, and the banter of lively conversation. Lester caught Chaloner’s arm.
‘They will be in the Great Cabin — that is the big room at the other end of the ship. It is the only space large enough for a party their size. Go there, and see what is happening.’