The Cheapside Corpse Read Online Free PDF Page A

‘linen-draper’ his upholder had engaged.
    ‘Why should we, when we have paid for these?’ said Neve crossly. Then he noticed Chaloner’s less-than-sartorial appearance, and his eyebrows shot up. ‘Lord! If you intend to see him today, you had better come to my office while I sponge off your coat. And when was the last time you shaved?’
    Chaloner ran a hand over his jaw, and was startled by the amount of stubble there. No wonder the likes of Gabb and Knowles had regaled him with details of their master’s dodgy dealings! He must look thoroughly disreputable.
    He followed Neve down two flights of stairs – so as not to spoil the fine symmetry of the house’s façade, all the rooms allocated to the staff were below ground level – and through a maze of dim corridors to the upholder’s chamber. It was near the buttery, and smelled of bad milk. It was barely large enough for the desk and two chairs that were crammed into it, and every available surface, including the floor, was covered in plans and receipts.
    Within moments, they were joined by Thomas Kipps, the Seal Bearer, a bluff, friendly man who, unlike most of the Earl’s household, did not care that Chaloner had sided with Parliament during the wars. He always wore the Clarendon livery of blue and yellow, and was never anything less than immaculately attired. His duties were minimal, and involved standing around at ceremonies with as much pomp and dignity as he could muster.
    He took one look at Chaloner and called for soap and hot water. While Chaloner shaved and removed the more obvious dirt from his face and hands, Neve set about the mud-spattered coat with a damp cloth. Kipps perched on the table and regaled them with Court gossip.
    There was a lot of it, because White Hall was a lively place with many flamboyant characters, and someone was always sleeping with someone else’s wife. Then there was the usual gamut of rumours – an imminent Dutch invasion, omens predicting disaster, and one that claimed bankers were embezzling their depositors’ money.
    ‘And are they?’ asked Chaloner.
    Kipps shrugged. ‘Probably. They are a dishonest rabble, interested in nothing but making themselves richer. Personally, I consider them a curse, and wish them all to the devil.’
    From that, Chaloner surmised that Kipps was in the same boat as Hannah apropos finances.
    ‘I doubt Satan will want financiers in the dark realm,’ said Neve acidly, pointing at Chaloner’s boots, to remind him to scrape off the mud.
    Kipps laughed and turned to another subject. ‘Clarendon will be pleased to see you, Tom, but I doubt he will show it. He is irascible at the moment.’
    The Earl was always irascible as far as Chaloner was concerned, and although the spy had proved himself loyal on countless occasions by saving his life, reputation, money and family, it was never enough. The Earl needed Chaloner to help him stay one step ahead of his many enemies, but deplored the necessity, and treated him with a disdain that bordered on contempt – he had awarded him the title of Gentleman Usher purely so it would look more respectable in the household accounts. The dislike was fully reciprocated, and Chaloner would leave the Earl’s employ without hesitation if another opportunity arose. Unfortunately, it was unlikely that one would.
    ‘He will be pleased,’ agreed Neve. He glanced at Kipps. ‘I was just telling Chaloner that he might be asked to speak to Baron – those curtains were ordered weeks ago.’
    He stood back to assess his handiwork with the cloth. Unfortunately, even sponged clean, Chaloner’s travelling coat was not something that should appear in the august company of lord chancellors of England.
    ‘Baron is a scoundrel,’ averred Kipps. ‘You should never have done business with him.’
    Neve was annoyed by the censure. ‘He was the cheapest, and the Earl told me to cut costs.’
    ‘He is only the cheapest if he actually supplies what he promised,’ Kipps