‘How very convenient,’ said Chaloner acidly. ‘The instigator of this nasty piece of poison must be delighted that you are making his task so easy.’
‘Watch yourself, Chaloner,’ breathed Brodrick, shocked. ‘Or you will be in trouble.’
‘He is in trouble,’ snarled Hyde. He turned to his father. ‘I want him dismissed. He has made no headway with catching the villain who steals our bricks, and now he does not believe the threat against Pratt. I will explore both matters, and you can save yourself the cost of employing him.’
‘You cannot, Henry,’ said Frances reasonably. ‘You do not have the necessary expertise. Besides, you do not believe the theft of our bricks amounts to anything — you tell us to ignore it. How will you investigate something you do not consider to be serious?’
‘Because I know about architecture,’ replied Hyde loftily. ‘I have always been interested in the subject, and Christopher Wren told me only last week that he considers me talented. I know far more about building supplies than Chaloner ever will.’
‘But not about theft and murder,’ argued Frances quietly. ‘And those are the issues here.’
Hyde scowled, and it was clear he resented his mother’s interference. Chaloner appreciated it, though, and suspected she might have just saved him from unemployment, because the Earl’s eyes had glittered thoughtfully when the prospect of saving money had been raised.
‘So what will you do, Chaloner?’ asked Brodrick. ‘How will you begin?’
‘By finding out who sent the message,’ answered Chaloner, not bothering to reiterate his belief that the architect was in no danger, but that the Queen might well be. ‘And-’
‘A waste of time,’ interrupted Hyde. ‘I have already questioned Her Majesty’s household, but no one saw this missive delivered. And I doubt she will appreciate being interrogated by you.’
Chaloner suppressed a sigh. Hyde’s precipitate actions would have told the sender that the letter had been discovered, thus making the matter that much more difficult to explore.
‘Perhaps we should send Pratt away until the would-be assassin is under lock and key,’ suggested Frances. ‘I shall never forgive myself if he is murdered while working on our new home.’
‘The letter says Pratt will not die until the Feast of St Frideswide.’ Chaloner calculated quickly. ‘That is a week next Wednesday — nine days from now.’
‘How do you know?’ asked the Earl in astonishment. ‘We had to consult an almanac. I sincerely hope you are not a papist. I would not countenance one of those in my household.’
‘It is general knowledge, sir.’ Chaloner did not feel strongly enough about religion to affiliate himself with any sect, although he suspected that the Earl would dismiss him if he knew that his intelligencer was married to a Catholic — Hannah had converted when she had first been appointed to serve the Queen.
‘We shall hire Sergeant Wright to protect Pratt,’ determined Brodrick. ‘To put Frances’s mind at rest.’
It would be a waste of money on two counts, thought Chaloner. By paying guards to mind a man who did not need them, and by employing Wright, who would not know how to repel an assassin if his life depended on it. But before he could say so, there was a knock on the door and Dugdale entered. The Chief Usher looked around carefully, as if trying to gauge what had been discussed in his absence. He shot Chaloner a malevolent glance, but masked the expression quickly when he addressed the Earl, unwilling for their master to see the extent of his dislike.
‘I have just received a note from Pratt, sir. Apparently, twenty planks of best oak were stolen last night. How extraordinary that Chaloner did not notice.’
Fortunately for Chaloner, Kipps arrived shortly after Dugdale’s announcement, to inform Hyde and Brodrick that their presence was required at the Adventurers’ meeting immediately. Neither man could ignore a summons from the King, and they disappeared without another word. Chaloner was grateful, suspecting that Hyde would have used the missing wood to resume his campaign to have him dismissed — and he might have succeeded, because the Earl was clearly livid about their loss. Lady Clarendon frowned.
‘I do not like Henry mixing with Adventurers,’ she said, once everyone had gone, and only she, the Earl and Chaloner remained. ‘He is easily led, and I have not heard good things about Secretary Leighton. The other members leave much to be desired, too. Henry told me only yesterday that they transported more than three thousand slaves to Barbados last year. Slaves! How can he associate with such vileness?’
The Earl sighed unhappily. ‘We cannot dictate his behaviour for ever — he is twenty-six years old. But we should not discuss this now. I am more interested in my planks.’ He glared at Chaloner.
‘I watched your supplies all night, sir,’ said Chaloner tiredly. ‘And I checked them before I left. They were all there then.’
‘But this particular wood was stored inside the house,’ explained the Earl shortly. ‘And I know for a fact that every door is secured at dusk, so no one should have been able to get in.’
‘No one did, sir. So these planks must have been stolen after I left this morning, when the doors were unlocked for the workmen.’
‘Without anyone seeing?’ asked the Earl archly.
‘Without anyone raising the alarm,’ corrected Chaloner. ‘As I have said before, I suspect the thieves have accomplices among the workforce.’
‘Nonsense! My labourers are above reproach.’ The Earl held up his hand when Chaloner started to point out that such a large body of men, none of whom were very well paid, was likely to contain at least one rotten apple, and probably a lot more. ‘You let your attention wander, and these cunning dogs seized the opportunity to climb through a window. They cannot have gone through a door, because my locks are tamper-proof.’
‘Are they now?’ murmured Chaloner. He had not met a lock yet that could keep him out.
‘They are the best money can buy.’ The Earl’s eyes shone, as they always did when he was boasting about his new home. ‘And one key opens them all.’
Chaloner had never heard of such a thing. ‘Really?’
The Earl rummaged in his clothing and produced a key that hung on a cord around his neck. ‘There are only two copies in existence. I have one, and Pratt has the other — his will eventually go to Frances. It means we shall be able to lock whichever rooms we like without having to sort through vast mountains of keys.’
‘I see,’ said Chaloner, resisting the urge to ask what would happen if one was mislaid.
‘The only door it cannot open is the one to the vault.’ The Earl grinned. ‘And that is clever, too — it is designed to be airless, so if ever there is a fire, my papers and other valuables will be safe.’
‘Airless?’ asked Chaloner uneasily. ‘But what if someone is shut inside?’
The Earl looked smug. ‘That will never happen to an innocent person, and thieves deserve to be suffocated. Pratt is a genius for inventing such clever measures. My new home is impregnable.’
‘Except for the fact that someone broke in and stole your planks,’ Chaloner pointed out.
The Earl scowled. ‘That was your fault. You failed to ensure all the windows were closed, and then you were asleep when the burglars arrived to take advantage. And it obviously happened during the night, because thieves never operate in broad daylight.’
‘Do not rail at him, dear,’ said Frances mildly. ‘And thieves do operate in broad daylight. Indeed, they probably prefer it, because they will be able to see what they are doing.’
Chaloner wished she were present during all his interviews with the Earl. ‘The only way to catch the culprits — or to deter them — is to put the house under continuous surveillance. But I cannot do it, sir, not if I am to look into the threat against Pratt.’