Chaloner had thought of little else all the way from the Rhenish Wine House, but had no idea why the three men should be in the same two places. ‘Perhaps they went to lay claim to Maylord’s key, because I took the identical one from Smegergill.’
‘That makes no sense. If they had wanted that, they would have removed it from Smegergill’s body when they had the chance. What is it for, do you think? It is too small for a door of any substance.’
‘A cupboard? A box?’
Thurloe examined them both. ‘They could be chain-lock keys — devices that secure things to walls. Musical instruments, perhaps. Now, tell me, in detail this time, what happened in Smithfield last night.’
Chaloner did not want to relive his failure yet again. ‘I cannot: it is still blurred. Why do you want to know anyway? I am painfully aware that it is my fault Smegergill died. I should not have let him walk around Smithfield at such a late hour, and I should not have let a gaggle of Hectors best me.’
‘Do not underestimate them, Tom. They are no mere louts like their rival gangs, the Muns or the Tityre Tus. Many were soldiers, and some are even professional men — such as Newburne and Wenum, it would seem. So, tell me what you recall. Leave nothing out.’
With a sigh, Chaloner obliged, although it was an uncomfortable process. Thurloe listened without interrupting, then sat back thoughtfully.
‘I disliked Smegergill. He was secretive about his origins when I tried to vet him for Cromwell’s court, and you never knew when he was going to turn on you with a caustic remark.’
‘He was not caustic last night. He barely remembered our conversation from one sentence to the next, and at points he thought I was my father.’
Thurloe steepled his fingers. ‘It seems to me that his role in the attack was ambiguous. No, do not argue, Tom. Hear me out. He could not have organised the ambush, because you went to see him out of the blue, and he had no time to make such arrangements. Yet he was not surprised by it, either.’
Chaloner was astonished by the line the ex-Spymaster’s thinking had taken, and disagreed strongly with his interpretation. ‘How do you know he was not surprised?’ he demanded bitterly. ‘He never had the chance to discuss it with me, because he was dead before it was over.’
‘Think, Thomas, and analyse the evidence objectively, as I have taught you to do. You heard Smegergill talking to the attackers before you were dragged into the churchyard — talking, not yelling for help, as most men would have been doing.’
‘He was probably frightened. He was old, frail and not in his right wits. And if he believed the attackers were Bedlam men coming for him, then it is not surprising that he failed to raise the alarm.’
‘We are not talking about his failure to raise the alarm — although I find it odd that he did not at least cry out when armed rogues appeared — we are discussing the fact that he spoke to them. And he cannot have been overly witless, or Greeting would not have hired him to play in his consort. Greeting is fiercely ambitious, and is highly selective about the musicians he allows to join him.’
Greeting was ambitious, Chaloner knew, and certainly would not tolerate a consort member who might do something to damage his reputation. ‘But this does not mean Smegergill-’
‘Then what about the fact that Smegergill suggested a specific location from which to take a carriage, but had no money with which to pay? Perhaps he had no intention of riding with you to Maylord’s room, and his real purpose was to keep you away from it at all costs. Everyone knows Smithfield is dangerous at night. Have you considered the possibility that he led you there deliberately, knowing what would happen?’
‘What happened was that he was killed and I escaped.’
‘And I am sure that was not the outcome he was anticipating. Besides, you would have died had you not been wearing your metal hat. They came closer than I like to think.’
Chaloner still did not believe he was right. ‘There are all manner of explanations for his lack of money, including the fact that he was forgetful and may have overlooked filling his purse-’
‘Then why were you searched and he was not? He kept his ring and his key, despite the fact that the men who attacked you sound like professional thieves who would be unlikely to pass over such items. And you say his only injury was a small cut to his mouth?’
‘I heard a blow falling when I was lying on the ground. They did hit him.’
Thurloe raised his hands defensively. ‘Then perhaps he is a victim after all. I am not saying there is anything odd about Smegergill, Tom, just that you should bear the possibility in mind. And you should not wallow too deeply in remorse until you are absolutely sure it is justified.’
Chaloner was unconvinced. ‘What do you know about Crisp?’ he asked, to change the subject.
‘He is associated with everything illegal in the Smithfield area, but only for the last two years or so. I would not have tolerated him when I was in government — as I said, a military dictatorship confers all manner of advantages, and an absence of underworld kings is one of them.’
‘Have you heard his name associated with Newburne’s?’
‘No, but it does not surprise me that they knew each other: a felon and a corrupt lawyer make for comfortable bedfellows.’
‘Where does Crisp live? Who are his associates?’
Thurloe scratched his head. ‘He must live in Smithfield, because that is his realm of influence. He is often seen there, surrounded by Hectors, but tends to shy away from appointments outside the area. Because he is rich, powerful and influential, some of the Guilds have tried to establish a connection with him — for business purposes — but he declines to make major public appearances.’
‘Maylord was smothered and Newburne was poisoned. Crisp knew them both.’
‘Crisp knew Newburne,’ corrected Thurloe. ‘We cannot be sure that he knew Maylord.’
‘He must have done — it was probably his men who visited Maylord’s room. Why would they have been there, if there was no connection? And do not say because of Smegergill — I do not believe he deliberately tried to have me killed by Hectors. Perhaps they met through Wenum. He was a Hector and he was Maylord’s neighbour at the Rhenish Wine House.’
‘But that neighbour said Maylord would have had nothing to do with Wenum, other than exchanging pleasantries in the hallway,’ pounced Thurloe. He hesitated. ‘I do not mean to tell you your business, Tom, but I have been wondering whether you ever intend to examine the documents you retrieved from Maylord. They might provide you with answers, and render some of our discussion obsolete.’
‘Christ!’ muttered Chaloner, removing them from his pocket. ‘I had forgotten all about them.’
‘I thought as much,’ said Thurloe. ‘You are not yourself today, or you would have had them open the moment you arrived.’
Chaloner untied the dirty ribbon that bound them together and unfolded the first sheet. Then he examined the second and the third. ‘Music,’ he said in astonishment. ‘It is just music.’
Thurloe sat back, disappointed. ‘Well, I suppose Maylord was a composer.’
‘He did not compose these, though,’ said Chaloner. ‘This is not his writing.’
Chapter 6
Thurloe wanted Chaloner to stay in his chambers while he went to speak to his informants about Mary Cade, and Chaloner did not object, because they were warm, comfortable and the pantry was well-stocked with food. He sat by the fire intending to study the music from Maylord’s chimney, write another article about Portugal as an excuse to re-visit L’Estrange, and think about his investigation. He dashed off the article quickly enough, but the music was difficult to understand and his investigation had him confounded, so he spent most of the time asleep. Hours later, Thurloe returned to say he had met with no success. Worse, he had failed to gain access to Newgate, because he had arrived too late, which meant Chaloner would have to go after all. The prospect did not fill the spy with enthusiasm.