‘Have you heard the news? Governor Bridge has been dismissed and a new man hired to rule Tangier in his place. Fitzgerald the pirate has been honoured with the post.’
Chaloner stared at him. ‘Fitzgerald? But he is in the Tower, charged with the attempted murder of most of the Adventurers and half of Queenhithe.’
‘That was ages ago,’ said Kipps. ‘It has all been forgotten now, especially as Fitzgerald has offered to bring another chest of treasure to London later in the year.’
‘So yet again the wicked prosper,’ muttered Chaloner. ‘Is there never justice in this rotten city?’
‘Fitzgerald will travel to his new domain on Royal Katherine,’ said Kipps, straining to hear what Chaloner was mumbling. ‘The damage has been repaired and she looks as good as new again. She sails from Queenhithe on the afternoon tide.’
Chaloner went home, but the news of Fitzgerald’s freedom troubled him, and he was restless and angry. Bemused by his sullen mood, and exasperated when he declined to discuss it, Hannah sent him out for a walk, no doubt afraid that he might use his viol to settle his mind if he were allowed to stay. She need not have worried: Chaloner had not played since the events at Clarendon House, and felt no desire to do so.
‘Take George with you,’ she said. ‘I dislike being in the kitchen when he is there, and I feel like baking a cake. It will be ready on your return.’
Even more dejected, because he would be expected to eat it, Chaloner walked to Queenhithe to see for himself whether Kipps was right about Fitzgerald. George trailed at his heels.
When he arrived, he found scant evidence of the chaos that had ensued after it had almost been blown into oblivion. The warehouses that had been burned were already rebuilt, and the wharf was its usual hive of activity. Boats rocked gently as they were tugged by the ebbing tide, and Katherine stood tall and proud among them, like a graceful swan amid a flock of ducks.
Suddenly, there was a clatter of wheels on cobbles, and a convoy arrived. Chaloner clenched his fists in impotent fury when Fitzgerald alighted. Even from a distance, he could hear the high-pitched voice, laughing jovially. It seemed to be mocking him, but, short of darting forward and plunging a dagger into the man, there was nothing Chaloner could do.
‘I would not mind a berth on that ship,’ said George.
Chaloner jumped. They were the first words the footman had spoken since leaving Tothill Street. ‘You want to return to Fitzgerald’s service?’ he asked, bemused.
‘I meant as a sailor. Work my passage to Tangier.’
‘Then go,’ said Chaloner.
George stared at him. ‘I am your servant. I cannot leap on a ship.’
‘You can if I tell you to,’ said Chaloner, wondering whether he would be spared the ordeal of Hannah’s cake if he went home with the news that he had solved the problem George had become.
Once the captain had been assured that George was an experienced seaman, willing to work, he happily agreed to take him on. Chaloner gave George all the money he had with him, plus his coat; George took them without a word of thanks. Chaloner watched him stride up the gangway, then went to tell Thurloe of Fitzgerald’s good fortune.
‘What?’ exploded the ex-Spymaster. ‘How can they let such a dangerous man go free? And to promote him into a position of power into the bargain! Are they insane?’
‘No, they are corrupt,’ replied Chaloner. ‘He bribed them with promises of more gold bars.’
‘So the profits from mismanaging the mole will go into his pocket now,’ fumed Thurloe. ‘He not only has his liberty, but he is given licence to prosper at the tax-payer’s expense.’
‘It is a sorry business, and all about money as usual,’ said Chaloner despondently.
Thurloe nodded grim agreement. ‘And it all began with O’Brien objecting to the monopoly on African trade held by the Adventurers, and deciding he was going to smash their hold on Tangier. He did not care that it would destroy the Queen and take all manner of lives in the process. But some justice was served, at least.’
‘Was it?’ Chaloner could not think of any.
‘All those greedy people who hoped to profit were hit where it hurt them most — in the purse. The Piccadilly Company lost all the treasure they had spirited to Clarendon House after Jane docked — it was confiscated by the government. And it was decided that the Adventurers should pay for the repairs to Katherine, because they were fooling about on her when Jane exploded.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Chaloner. ‘But most of them are so rich that they will barely notice the loss.’
‘Well, we should not be too downcast. Fitzgerald murdered all those members of the Piccadilly Company who were involved in the plot, while the remainder are too relieved by their narrow escape to dabble with dubious characters again. And war with the Dutch will destroy the Adventurers — their ships will be unable to trade, and their venture will go bankrupt.’
‘Temporarily perhaps. Do you know, when I scuttled the slave-ship Henrietta Maria in Tangier, I believed I had made a difference — that it might make these unscrupulous merchants think twice about the trade. But the reality was that it accomplished nothing at all.’
‘It enabled dozens of people to escape life on the plantations,’ countered Thurloe. ‘They will not think it was nothing. But you are right in that the filthy business will flourish. You may have to hone your scuttling talents. Let me know if you ever need an accomplice.’
Chaloner gave him a wan smile.
Thurloe sighed. ‘Fitzgerald may have bested me yet again, but at least some of the villains met a fitting end. Brinkes and his louts are in Williamson’s tender care, while O’Brien, Harley, Brilliana, Cave, Meneses and my brother-in-law are dead.’
‘Harley was the worst. He murdered his friends and Reyner’s mother.’
‘Fitzgerald was the worst,’ corrected Thurloe. ‘He brained two men in front of you, and he was responsible for Turner, Lucas and even children burned to death, as well as Proby being hurled from the roof of St Paul’s Cathedral, Congett poisoned and Meneses trampled by a horse.’
‘It was O’Brien who issued those orders.’
‘Perhaps, but the wicked imaginativeness tells me that Fitzgerald decided how to execute them. He ordered Brinkes to kill Captain Pepperell, too, before his report on the three Tangier scouts could be delivered to Williamson.’
‘Poor Pepperell,’ said Chaloner. ‘I doubt he knew much that could harm Harley, Newell and Reyner, and there was no need to kill him. However, I think you will agree that the slaughter of the garrison on Jews Hill was by far the worst outrage in this miserable affair, and while it was O’Brien’s idea, it was Harley who put it into action.’
‘True,’ acknowledged Thurloe. ‘Of course, the Teviot affair has been vigorously suppressed. The government does not want it known that its own scouts brought about that tragedy.’
Chaloner was not surprised, being well acquainted with the fact that governments all over the world had ways to keep people from finding out about their mistakes.
‘But Pratt was not guilty of anything except making bad friends,’ he said. ‘And of naively believing that members of the Piccadilly Company would hire him to design houses for them once Jane had made them rich. He was so shocked when he learned he had been used in a plot against the Queen that he has retired from public life. He has gone to live in Norfolk.’
‘That is extreme: I have been to Norfolk.’ Thurloe sighed again. ‘However, we saved the Queen from embarrassment and persecution. That was worthwhile.’
‘It was, but she remains vulnerable until she produces an heir.’ Chaloner glanced at Thurloe. ‘I am sorry about Lydcott, by the way. He was not a bad man, either. Just lacking in judgement.’