Murder on High Holborn Read Online Free PDF Page A

Buckingham, who was behind the mariner. ‘He prefers to ride about in hackney carriages.’ The last two words were pronounced in a fastidious hiss.
    ‘I do not hold with fancy nonsense,’ retorted Lawson shortly. ‘There is no room for it at sea, and there should be no room for it on land either.’
    ‘A private coach is a necessity, not a nonsense,’ declared Buckingham. ‘And every man of breeding would agree.’
    ‘Breeding!’ jeered Lawson. ‘Any cur can sire a litter. I judge a man by his mettle, not by his damned ancestors.’
    Hill interposed himself between them, spouting some tale about the latest addition to Temperance’s stables. The skill with which he did so led Chaloner to surmise that it was something he did on a regular basis, when clients had had too much to drink and old animosities surfaced. Keeping up a steady monologue that gave neither the chance to take issue, Hill escorted them off the premises.
    Chaloner stepped back smartly as the remaining customers trooped out in a noisy rabble. They would snatch a few hours’ sleep before arriving at their places of work – government offices, consulates, White Hall, episcopal palaces. Or perhaps, he thought sourly, they would go to them straight away, and make wine-muddled decisions that would plunge the country into even greater chaos.
    He began to walk up the lane, but had not gone far before someone grabbed his arm. It was Wiseman, who suggested a restorative draught in the Hercules’ Pillars tavern, a place famous for all-night card games and gargantuan portions of roasted meat. There was still time before Chaloner was expected at Clarendon House, so he followed the surgeon inside, where they were met by a powerful aroma of spilled ale and burned fat.
    ‘I know you have no authority to investigate Ferine’s death,’ Wiseman said, once they were seated. ‘But you cannot abandon Temperance to Doines. He is a bumbling fool who will not be discreet, and the incident may be used to close the club and force her to leave London – which I should not like at all. Besides, she has been a good friend to you in the past.’
    ‘What can I do?’ Chaloner raised his hands in a shrug. ‘Government officials, churchmen and wealthy merchants will not talk to me without a warrant. Indeed, I imagine most will deny even being in Hercules’ Pillars Alley.’
    ‘The villain will not be a patron,’ averred Wiseman. ‘So they are irrelevant.’
    ‘On the contrary, they are potential witnesses and probably the only way the culprit will ever be caught, given that there are no other leads to follow. But I cannot meddle, Wiseman. You will have to put your trust in Doines.’
    ‘Lord!’ breathed Wiseman, appalled. ‘Poor Temperance! I think I had better visit Williamson to see what can be done. He is improving as Spymaster, because he has learned to heed suggestions. Unfortunately, he is still nowhere near as efficient as the one Cromwell had.’
    Chaloner said nothing, because Wiseman was a committed Royalist, and he did not want to draw attention to the fact that they had been on opposite sides during the wars. However, Wiseman was right: Cromwell’s Spymaster had been the talented John Thurloe, a man who was now Chaloner’s closest friend.
    Wiseman peered at him in the flickering firelight. ‘You are very pale. Is anything amiss?’
    ‘Nothing sleep will not cure. Unfortunately, I seem destined not to have any – my wife kept me talking the first night I was back; Clarendon wanted some letters written in Dutch during the second; and Temperance’s summons came in the early hours of this morning.’
    ‘You will survive,’ said Wiseman unsympathetically. ‘Incidentally, did I tell you that I have been appointed Master of the Company of Barber-Surgeons? It is a great honour, you know.’
    He had mentioned it at least three times in as many days. Unfortunately, Chaloner knew that Wiseman had been elected not because he was popular, but because he was