The Earl saw he was cornered, and began to gloat. ‘It was your own decision to dash off to Portugal. I asked you not to accept the Queen’s commission.’
‘Only after you had ordered me to go, when it was too late to change my mind,’ objected Chaloner. ‘If you had made your position clear sooner, I might have been able to think of an excuse.’
‘So, it was my fault, was it?’ demanded the Earl. ‘How dare you! I am the only man in London willing to hire you — and that means you are not in a position to be insolent. I am sick of impudence and I am putting my foot down. I mean to show everyone what I am made of.’
And what he was made of was a lot of petty spite, thought Chaloner. He could not best his peers, so he was venting his spleen on someone who could not fight back. His instinct was to tell the man he was a mean-spirited bigot, but while that would be satisfying, it would do him no good. He swallowed his pride and nodded acceptance of the Earl’s terms.
Clarendon smirked, savouring the victory, then reached out to pull him into the light of one of the windows, peering into his face. ‘Have you been fighting?’
‘Working for you is dangerous,’ retorted Chaloner, ignoring the fact that he did not know for certain whether the ambush was related to his investigation into Newburne. ‘I was attacked trying to question suspects for you.’
‘Well, you seem to have survived,’ said the Earl unfeelingly. ‘What did you learn?’
‘That someone called Wenum has been selling L’Estrange’s news to Muddiman. It is possible that Newburne discovered this, and was killed to ensure his silence. However, it is also possible that he was murdered because of his association with Ellis Crisp-’
‘Spymaster Williamson is investigating Crisp, so he and his nasty Hectors will soon be a thing of the past. He has his best man — a fellow called Hickes — on the case.’
‘Do I know Hickes?’ asked Chaloner. It could not be the apple-seller for two reasons. First, because the man had been ordered to watch Muddiman, not Crisp. And secondly, because the country was in deep trouble if that slow-witted specimen represented the secret service’s ‘best man’.
‘I have no idea who you might have encountered in the sordid world of espionage,’ replied Clarendon haughtily. ‘So, you think Newburne’s death might be related to the newsbooks, do you? That is unfortunate, because it means I shall be obliged to pay the widow’s pension after all.’
‘All I can do is hunt out the facts, sir. What you do with them is your business.’
The Earl regarded him thoughtfully, and Chaloner braced himself for another dressing down. Instead, Clarendon turned to gaze out of the window. ‘Your discovery about Wenum is interesting. Do you think L’Estrange knows he is being betrayed, and is trying to keep it from the government? Williamson will be furious when he finds out. No wonder the newsletters are always so much better to read than the government-run newsbooks.’
‘L’Estrange is aware that someone is selling his news to a third party, but he does not know the identity of the culprit.’
‘Then tell him,’ ordered the Earl. ‘And make sure he knows the information comes courtesy of me. I warrant Williamson’s agent has not been so assiduous.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Chaloner with a sinking heart. The last thing he needed was to be used as a pawn in a battle between the Earl and Williamson. ‘Is there anything else?’
‘Yes. You have five days to unmask Newburne’s killer. It is Wednesday today, so you have until Monday. If you have not solved the matter by then, you can find yourself another master.’
Chaloner left the Stone Gallery feeling his life had just taken a dramatic and unnerving plunge towards disaster — and that the Earl’s own situation was probably not much better. The man was wise to distrust his peers, but there was no need to alienate his staff, too, not unless he wanted to find himself with no allies — and in a place like White Hall, to be friendless was dangerous. He was assailed with a sense of misgiving, not sure he could trust the Earl to reinstate him even if he did provide answers — assuming Crisp or some henchman did not kill him first, of course. And how was he supposed to manage for five days with no money? He was so engrossed in his concerns that he did not hear Bulteel calling him, and the secretary was obliged to tug his sleeve to claim his attention.
‘He is in a foul mood today,’ Bulteel said, jumping back when he saw a dagger appear in the spy’s hand, as if by magic. ‘If I had seen you first, I would have recommended that you communicate in writing. Did he dismiss you? If so, you will be the third today.’
‘What is the matter with him?’
Bulteel gestured with his hand, encompassing everything. ‘He hates politics and intrigue, and would far sooner be at home with his family. Yet when he is home he worries about what might be happening behind his back. That spat with the Earl of Bristol last spring hurt him deeply, and although he emerged victorious, he knows it is only a matter of time before another enemy rises against him.’
‘They will rise a lot sooner if he drives away the people who are willing to help him.’
Bulteel gave one of his shy smiles. ‘He will be sorry tomorrow for what he said to you. Are you still helping him with this Newburne business? He badly needs loyal men, and this is important.’
‘Why is it important? I am still not sure he is telling the truth about why he wants the matter investigated. Is it really because he does not want to pay the widow’s pension?’
Bulteel looked furtive. ‘If I tell you, will you promise never to reveal where you heard it?’ Chaloner nodded cautiously. ‘It is because Newburne was his spy.’
Chaloner was not surprised, because it had already occurred to him. ‘He said Newburne was hired for legal work, but of course I drew my own conclusions — the Lord Chancellor of England will have access to far better solicitors than poor Newburne. And then he was dismissed for stealing.’
‘That was a ruse. Newburne was never dismissed — he was the Earl’s man for more than a decade.’
Now Chaloner was surprised. From what he had learned of Newburne, the solicitor was not the kind of man with whom any upright noble would want to associate long term. And the Earl was upright, despite his faults. ‘Are you sure?’
‘He sent us information about Cromwell during the Commonwealth. It was more gossip than genuine intelligence, if the truth be told, but the Earl was grateful anyway. Then he kept us appraised of what was happening in Smithfield as Crisp began to rise in power. And latterly, he reported to us about L’Estrange’s running of the newsbooks.’
Chaloner was thoughtful. ‘Then perhaps L’Estrange killed Newburne because he objected to being watched. It would explain why he ordered me not to look into the matter.’
‘Assuming he knew what Newburne was up to. Our sly solicitor was very careful.’
‘Could Newburne have sold L’Estrange’s stories to the newsletters, then?’ Chaloner was asking himself more than Bulteel. ‘With Wenum’s help? If the Earl was his real master, why not betray L’Estrange?’
Bulteel shrugged. ‘All I can tell you is that he was loyal to us, and the Earl appreciates trustworthiness. He knew Newburne was no angel, and that he dabbled in devious business, but he will miss his reports. I hope you uncover his killer, although you must take care.’
‘I always take care.’
‘I am sure you do. However, remember that Williamson may have guessed what Newburne was doing, and he has a way of ridding himself of people who cross him. He will not want you exposing him as a killer. Meanwhile, L’Estrange is a hothead, who would think nothing of running you through for an imprudent remark, and you do have an insolent tongue. Also, the booksellers would prefer Newburne to be quietly buried and forgotten. Meanwhile, Crisp’s power is on the increase, and he might well have dispensed with a man who knew too many sensitive details about his business-’