The Piccadilly Plot Read Online Free PDF

specimens, some of which were dissected publicly at Chyrurgeons’
     Hall. It was a grisly business, and may have explained why Wiseman always chose to wear red. Coupled with the fact that he
     possessed a head of thick auburn curls, and was a large man with an immensely powerful physique, he made for an imposing figure.
     He considered himself Chaloner’s friend, but although the spy respected Wiseman’s courage and honesty, he found it difficult
     to like a man who was so disagreeably arrogant.
    ‘Good morning,’ said Kersey with a pleasant smile. ‘What can we do for you today?’
    ‘The body that just arrived,’ began Chaloner. ‘It is—’
    ‘Toted in like a sack of onions,’ interrupted Kersey disapprovingly. ‘By a grubby carter from The Strand. Do folk have no
     sense of decorum?’
    Chaloner wondered how he could ask such a question when he let some of his charges go to a far worse fate than being lugged
     along a hall. Wiseman guessed what he was thinking.
    ‘I perform anatomies in the name of science,’ he declared loftily. ‘However, I shall leave that particular cadaver alone,
     because it is John Cave, one of the Chapel Royal musicians.’
    ‘Do you not dissect musicians, then?’ asked Chaloner, a little acidly.
    ‘Not ones with Court appointments. The King attends my Public Anatomies, and I cannot imagine him wanting to watch one where
     he is acquainted with the subject.’
    Chaloner was not so sure about that: the King liked to think of himself as a scientist. He turned to Kersey. ‘I arranged for
     Cave to be brought here. I did not know where else to suggest.’
    ‘You did the right thing,’ said Kersey kindly. ‘Do not worry: I shall look after him.’
    Chaloner nodded his thanks. His journey had been unnecessary: he should have remembered that Kersey was solicitous of his
     charges, especially the important or famous ones.
    ‘You will have to contact the Chapel Royal choir and ask his colleagues to arrange a funeral, Kersey,’ said Wiseman helpfully.
     ‘As far as I am aware, he had no family.’
    But Kersey was looking at Chaloner, doing so rather uneasily. ‘There was an awful lot of blood.
You
did not kill him, did you? If so, I hope you are not expectingme to disguise the fact, because I do not engage in that sort of activity. Well, not without a very good reason.’
    ‘He died in a brawl,’ objected Chaloner, offended. ‘I had nothing to do with it.’
    ‘You have no right to sound indignant,’ said Kersey. ‘Given that you have been associated with so many premature deaths in
     the past. Indeed, there have been times when my domain has contained nothing
but
folk who have arrived here as a result of your investigations.’
    ‘But not today.’ Chaloner felt the accusation was unjust. It was hardly his fault that the Earl was in the habit of ordering
     him to explore dangerous matters.
    ‘You have only been home a week, but you are already embroiled in something deadly,’ scolded Wiseman. ‘And it is doing you
     no good. You glowed with health and vitality when you first returned, but now you are pale and mangy.’
    Chaloner was disinclined to tell him how he had been spending his nights. He did not have the energy to deal with the inevitable
     indignation that would arise when Wiseman learned that the Earl, a man he admired for some inexplicable reason, was being
     relieved of the bricks and wood intended for his house.
    ‘I should go,’ he said instead. ‘Clarendon is expecting me.’
    Kersey was surprised. ‘Do you not want to see Cave? I covered him with a nice clean cloth.’
    Chaloner shook his head and made for the door, keen to answer the Earl’s summons before the delay saw him in too much trouble.
     Wiseman and Kersey followed.
    ‘I am sorry Cave is dead,’ said the surgeon. ‘He hada lovely voice, and everyone was delighted when he returned from Tangier to rejoin the Chapel Royal choir. Henry O’Brien
     will be especially distressed – since Cave