The Butcher Of Smithfield: Chaloner's Third Exploit in Restoration London (Thomas Chaloner Book 3) by Gregory Susanna

The Butcher Of Smithfield: Chaloner's Third Exploit in Restoration London (Thomas Chaloner Book 3) by Gregory Susanna

Author:Gregory, Susanna [Gregory, Susanna]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9780748124541
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2010-12-01T16:00:00+00:00


Chaloner was late for the funeral. He opened a door that clanked, so people turned to look at him. A few minutes later, the door rattled a second time, and Dury and Muddiman entered. Chaloner nodded a greeting to them, and the offhand way they responded confirmed that they had not identified him with the disturbance at Finch’s house.

Deciding to take the bull by the horns, he sauntered towards them. They were looking especially foppish that day, with more lace than a courtesan’s boudoir and a good deal more perfume. He glanced at their feet and saw both wore clean shoes with long toes and gleaming silver buckles. They had not walked to the church from Ave Maria Lane, but had been transported.

‘Sedan-chairs,’ explained Muddiman, seeing where he was looking. ‘It is the only way to travel these days. Carriages are too big for alleys, and hackneys are unpredictable – you never know when they might stop and order you out. Sedans are small, manoeuvrable and, if you pay them well, fast.’

‘I keep my own,’ added Dury. ‘Do you?’

Chaloner shook his head. Apart from the fact that he seldom had the money for such extravagance, sedans had an unpleasant jerking motion that took some getting used to. ‘What business makes you late for the requiem of the man who sold you L’Estrange’s news?’ he asked bluntly.

Muddiman’s eyebrows shot up, and Chaloner suspected he would have issued a jeering laugh had he not been in a church. ‘I produce high-quality work from impeccable sources, and I would never deign to accept anything from Newburne – or any other of L’Estrange’s minions.’

‘A man named Wenum kept a ledger that suggests otherwise,’ said Chaloner, wishing he had brought it with him. ‘It details payments made for specific items of news over the last six months. I am sure Williamson will be very interested to learn how you are undermining the government.’

‘He will not believe you,’ said Dury. ‘He has had us followed for weeks, hoping to catch us out, but we have nothing to hide. Besides, Wenum is dead – he fell in the Thames about a week ago – so there is no one to corroborate your accusations.’

‘And do not think this ledger will prove anything, either,’ added Muddiman, grinning. ‘It will be a forgery. L’Estrange is not the only newsmonger with powerful patrons, and ours will not see us in trouble over some book of dubious origin.’

Chaloner wondered how they came to know the manner of Wenum’s death, when no one at the Rhenish Wine House had been able to enlighten him. Did it mean Muddiman and Dury had decided Wenum had become too much of a risk, so they had killed him before he could expose them?

‘There was a commotion at Hen Finch’s house on Ave Maria Lane not long ago,’ he said, abruptly changing the subject. ‘I saw you two leaving it.’

‘We went to arrange his funeral with the landlord,’ said Dury slyly. ‘His friend Newburne is obviously not in a position to do it.



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