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‘How did she know about the gold in the first place?’ asked Chaloner sceptically.

‘She was in the service of Sir John Barkstead,’ replied Evett. ‘Do you remember who Barkstead was?’

‘He fled abroad after the collapse of the Commonwealth,’ replied Chaloner, becoming even more uneasy. ‘And he was one of the men Downing brought home to be executed last March.’

‘Yes, he was a regicide,’ said the Earl, looking at Chaloner as if to remind him of the secret they shared. ‘And as such, he did well for himself during the Protectorate. One of the posts he held was Lieutenant of the Tower.’

Evett took up the tale. ‘And that means he had access to all parts of the castle. Mother Pinchon says that the night before he was ousted, he and she packed this seven thousand pounds – all his moveable money – into butter firkins.’

Chaloner nodded, thinking about his uncle’s hoard. It was not only Parliamentarians who had hidden what they could, and there were tales of Royalists returning to the country they had abandoned after the wars and setting out with spades. Some had found their caches undisturbed, but many had not, and accusations were rife.

‘When they had finished, and all the containers were sealed, Barkstead told her where he planned to bury them,’ said Evett.

‘Why?’ demanded Chaloner. ‘If he hid his money, he obviously thought he would have an opportunity to collect it in the future. Why would he share such a secret with a servant?’

‘Good,’ said the Earl, nodding vigorously. ‘Your questions show an enquiring mind. But the answer is simple: he was fond of this woman. He said that if he could not retrieve it himself, then she should have it instead. She waited eight months to the day from his execution, then approached Wade.’

‘Who is Wade?’

‘The Tower’s victualling commissioner,’ said the Earl. ‘He was the perfect fellow for this woman to see – not so mighty as to refuse her an interview, but well enough connected to ensure her request was acted upon. So, she told Wade her tale, and Wade came to us. I mentioned it to the King–’

‘Who happened to be entertaining the Earl of Sandwich,’ interrupted Evett. He sounded disapproving. ‘His Majesty and Sandwich were deep in their cups, and they reached an agreement I am sure the King regretted the following day.’

‘That Wade should have two thousand pounds as a finder’s fee; Sandwich should have two thousand because he is a good fellow; and the King should have the remaining three,’ explained the Earl. ‘It was a simple division. Philip went to the Tower with Wade the very next day.’

‘Did you find it?’ asked Chaloner, intrigued despite his reservations.

‘Obviously, they were obliged to visit Sir John Robinson first,’ said the Earl. ‘Do you know Robinson? Thurloe tells me your knowledge of city’s officials is sadly lacking.’

‘The Lord Mayor of London,’ replied Chaloner, rather defiantly.

‘He is also Lieutenant of the Tower,’ added Captain Evett. ‘He took over Barkstead’s old post.’

‘We needed his agreement to dig up the cellars, you see,’ explained the Earl. ‘Once we had it, the captain, Wade and Sandwich’s clerk … what is his name, Philip? A fat-cheeked, obsequious little fellow, who says one thing and thinks another. You can see the truth in his calculating eyes.’

‘Samuel Pepys, sir.’

‘Yes, Pepys,’ said the Earl, nodding. ‘Sandwich commissioned Pepys to represent his interests. Meanwhile, Philip stood for the King, and Wade was there for himself and Mother Pinchon.’

‘Wade had clear directions from Pinchon, so he knew exactly where to look,’ Evett went on. ‘He located the arch she described with no trouble, and we dug all afternoon. But we found nothing.’

‘Mother Pinchon was not with you?’ asked Chaloner, surprised. ‘Surely, it would have been best for her to point out where the hoard lies, rather than rely on her spoken instructions?’

‘They were very good instructions,’ said Evett defensively. ‘And we had every expectation of finding the treasure that day. But we did not.’

‘So, next you asked Pinchon to come to the Tower, and say exactly where–’ surmised Chaloner.

‘She refused,’ interrupted Evett. ‘She had served a regicide for twenty years, and Wade could not persuade her to set foot in the Tower again. Since she comes to Wade, and he does not know where she lives, her expertise was unavailable to us.’

‘It was very disappointing when they were unsuccessful the first day,’ said the Earl. ‘But, undaunted, they returned the following morning to try again.’

‘Because it was such a huge sum, we felt we should not give up too soon, so we excavated half the cellar,’ said Evett. ‘By this time, I confess I was beginning to be sceptical. We arranged a third dig for the following week, but were unlucky again. Then Wade suggested we try near the old Coldharbour Gate, since it has an arch that vaguely matched Pinchon’s description, but we still found nothing.’

‘Not even an empty butter firkin?’ asked Chaloner.

‘Nothing. Pepys thinks Barkstead lied to Pinchon – told her about the treasure and her chances of getting it, so she would continue to serve him after he no longer had the free cash to pay her.’

‘You knew Barkstead,’ said the Earl to Chaloner. ‘Would he have done such a thing?’

Chaloner considered his brief acquaintance with Barkstead. They had met once before his arrest, and there had been several long discussions when he was in Downing’s custody. ‘He was ruthless and devoted to the republic, but I do not think he would have misled a faithful retainer so callously.’

Clarendon shot Evett a triumphant glance. ‘There! I concur, because I think Barkstead was telling the truth, too. So, since seven thousand pounds is a lot of money, I want you to find it, Heyden.’

‘You want me to dig again?’

‘I doubt that would do much good. If Philip says the gold is not in the Tower, then it is not there. It is somewhere else, and you must discover where.’

Chaloner did not like the sound of this assignment. ‘How?’

‘That is for you to decide. Philip will answer questions, but you are free to undertake the task as you see fit. All I ask is that you keep me informed. And there is one other thing: I do not want you to tell Wade or Pepys what you are doing.’

‘But I might have to ask them about–’

‘No!’ declared the Earl emphatically. ‘If you find this money on your own, then Sandwich and Wade have no claim on it. The King can have his three thousand, and I shall use the rest to … to replace those religious statues smashed by Puritans during the Interregnum.’

‘I see,’ said Chaloner, wondering whether it was wise to involve himself in a plot that would defraud a powerful noble like the Earl of Sandwich – and what would happen if the King learned he had been granted less of the money than his Lord Chancellor?

‘You must not tell Thurloe, either. Did he ask you to report the outcome of this interview?’

‘No, sir.’ Thurloe had asked for information about Clarke and Kelyng, which was not the same thing at all.

The Earl regarded him closely. ‘I do not believe you.’

‘But it is true, sir. He no longer dabbles in politics.’

Clarendon sighed. ‘Then he is a wise man who knows when it is time to leave the stage. But you will not tell him about Barkstead’s treasure. The only people who know what I have asked you to do are in this room – and Philip and I will not break our silence.’