The Body in the Thames Read Online Free PDF Page A

which he flicked back
     and forth as if swiping dust out of the way. His cheeks were powdered, and he wore a ‘face patch’ cut in the shape of a crescent
     moon. Face patches were popular with ladies, but Chaloner had never seen one on a man before.
    ‘There you are, John, dear!’ the fellow exclaimed. He sank on to a chair, while his servant – a sober, silent fellow in brown
     – fetched him a footstool. ‘I thought I would
never
find you. And the weather … well!’
    Although Bulteel told everyone that he was happily married, Chaloner was party to a secret: the wife and child were an invention,
     designed to make his colleaguesbelieve him capable of procuring them. But it had never occurred to Chaloner that his friend’s tastes might run in other directions.
    ‘No!’ gulped Bulteel, seeing what he was thinking. ‘This is my cousin. His name is Griffith.’
    ‘
Colonel
Griffith,’ corrected the man languidly. ‘Introduce me to this fine fellow, John.’
    ‘He is Tom,’ obliged Bulteel. ‘The Earl’s spy.’
    ‘No, no, no!’ cried Griffith, putting a hand across his eyes in apparent despair. ‘Have you listened to
none
of my lessons? Introduce him properly, as I have taught you.’
    ‘Allow me to present Mr Thomas Chaloner, gentleman usher to the Lord Chancellor,’ intoned Bulteel, blushing uncomfortably
     as he did so.
    ‘Better,’ acknowledged Griffith. ‘Although he ranks more highly than I, so you should have presented me to him first, not
     the other way around.’
    ‘My cousin is tutoring me in Court etiquette,’ explained Bulteel to the bemused Chaloner. ‘So I will not be so awkward when
     in the company of great people. I have always admired his elegant manners, and when he arrived in the city, I invited him
     to stay with me for a while to teach me his skills. By the time he has finished, wealthy patrons will be clamouring to hire
     my services, and I will be popular and loved by
everyone
I meet.’
    ‘Oh,’ said Chaloner, thinking Griffith should have refused the challenge, because it was not one that could be won. Bulteel
     had many admirable qualities, but his unprepossessing appearance and innate gaucheness meant he would never have the respect
     he craved. It was cruel and unfair, and Bulteel deserved better, but it was the way White Hall worked.
    ‘What brings you to London, Colonel?’ he asked, changing the subject before Bulteel could ask whether he had noticed any improvement.
     ‘Military matters?’
    ‘Lord, no!’ exclaimed Griffith in distaste. ‘I am a man of business now. I buy and sell fine cloth. My martial days are over.
     And I thank God for it, because I never did like the noise and dirt.’
    ‘Which regiment?’ asked Chaloner. An image of this foppish creature on a battlefield crept unbidden into his mind, and he
     fought down a smirk.
    ‘Prince Rupert’s,’ replied Griffith proudly. ‘I served with Clarendon once, too, at the Battle of Edgehill. He was minding
     the young princes, and I was minding Rupert’s dog. Both were sacred trusts, but especially mine. Rupert was very fond of that
     beast.’
    ‘The Earl was delighted to meet my cousin again,’ said Bulteel, smiling fondly. Then the expression became pained. ‘Griffith
     has settled nicely in my Westminster house. My wife and son are away, as you know, so there is plenty of room.’
    Before he had left for Holland, Chaloner had advised Bulteel to send his ‘family’ on an extended visit to the country; the
     fiction was beginning to unravel, and he did not want his friend exposed as a liar. He was surprised Bulteel was willing to
     deceive a cousin, though – kinsmen were more difficult to mislead than colleagues, because they would want to know to whom
     they were related.
    ‘I am pleased to have his company,’ Bulteel went on, although he looked anything but pleased, and Chaloner wondered whether
     the strain of having a houseguest accounted for some of his weariness. ‘He has been