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Authors: Susanna Gregory
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into them?’
‘It is possible. I recall he had a strange habit of changing them every day, and—’
‘And he would not have worn that particular set unless he knew he was going to die,’ finished Jacoba. ‘They
were
clean on that morning. I remember him stitching them up.’
She left the room, and returned a few moments later with her arms full. They inspected the hose together, but there were no
other messages. Hanse had, however, given Chaloner two pairs when they had been arguing about who should ride in the hackney
coach. It hadbeen done casually, and Chaloner had not looked at them closely. Clearly, he would have to do so when he went home.
‘Did he mention anything that was worrying him?’ he asked.
‘No. He was uneasy in the few days before he went missing, but he was a foreigner in a hostile city, so that is not surprising.
Besides, if he had been really concerned, he would have told you.’
‘Jacoba, we were not close,’ said Chaloner gently. ‘We met too infrequently to stay firm friends.’
Jacoba sniffed in a way that said she did not believe him. ‘You know he did not steal those papers, do you not? That horrible
Downing accused him … but Willem was
not
a thief.’
‘I know. He was with me when these documents were said to have disappeared.’
‘It is a tale put about to discredit our delegation,’ declared Jacoba tearfully. ‘And Downing picked on Willem, because he
is not here to defend himself.’
‘Very possibly,’ acknowledged Chaloner. ‘But to return to Sinon—’
‘I never heard Willem or anyone else mention it,’ said Jacoba firmly. ‘What does it mean?’
‘Then do you know of any new gate in the Savoy?’
‘There is nothing “new” about this place. It is falling to pieces!’
She could add nothing more to help him, so Chaloner took his leave, promising to keep her appraised of his progress.
As he left the hospital complex, Ruyven at his heels to make sure he really went, Chaloner met Henry Killigrew.He had been cornered by the Master of the Savoy at his wedding, just after the speeches, and had been compelled to spend a
long time listening to the man’s complaints about the cost of maintaining a lot of elderly buildings. Killigrew, it seemed,
was more interested in profit than in the wellbeing of his residents.
‘And housing these damned Dutchmen is not helping,’ he grumbled when their paths converged, as if the conversation had not
suffered a two-week break. Uninvited, he fell into step at Chaloner’s side and began to walk with him towards the gate. ‘They
are costing me a fortune. Not only do they live here rent-free, but they are very demanding. One even asked me to empty the
latrines, which had overflowed into the room where he was sleeping.’
‘How very unreasonable,’ murmured Chaloner.
Ruyven strained forward. ‘What is he saying about us?’ he demanded in Dutch. ‘All he ever does is make disparaging remarks.
Personally, I think
he
might be a spy, too.’
‘And he is the worst,’ spat Killigrew, jerking a thumb towards Ruyven. ‘Always criticising my security arrangements and carping
on about hygiene. He does not even speak English, the ignorant pig! If he cannot converse in our language, then he should
not have come here.’
‘I suspect him of being Catholic,’ said Ruyven, not understanding Killigrew’s words, but guessing they were offensive. ‘He
has that look about him – devious, scheming and greedy.’
‘Is there a new gate in your hospital?’ asked Chaloner of Killigrew.
‘No, why?’ said Killigrew suspiciously. ‘Did that buttereating lout just tell you that I am going to install one? Well, I am not! He claims the back door is flimsy, but I am not
made of money, and if he is so worried, then why does he not go out and buy one himself? With his
own
silver!’
‘I did
not
break the brazier in the State Room,’ snapped Ruyven, scowling as he tried to follow Killigrew’s rapid
‘It is possible. I recall he had a strange habit of changing them every day, and—’
‘And he would not have worn that particular set unless he knew he was going to die,’ finished Jacoba. ‘They
were
clean on that morning. I remember him stitching them up.’
She left the room, and returned a few moments later with her arms full. They inspected the hose together, but there were no
other messages. Hanse had, however, given Chaloner two pairs when they had been arguing about who should ride in the hackney
coach. It hadbeen done casually, and Chaloner had not looked at them closely. Clearly, he would have to do so when he went home.
‘Did he mention anything that was worrying him?’ he asked.
‘No. He was uneasy in the few days before he went missing, but he was a foreigner in a hostile city, so that is not surprising.
Besides, if he had been really concerned, he would have told you.’
‘Jacoba, we were not close,’ said Chaloner gently. ‘We met too infrequently to stay firm friends.’
Jacoba sniffed in a way that said she did not believe him. ‘You know he did not steal those papers, do you not? That horrible
Downing accused him … but Willem was
not
a thief.’
‘I know. He was with me when these documents were said to have disappeared.’
‘It is a tale put about to discredit our delegation,’ declared Jacoba tearfully. ‘And Downing picked on Willem, because he
is not here to defend himself.’
‘Very possibly,’ acknowledged Chaloner. ‘But to return to Sinon—’
‘I never heard Willem or anyone else mention it,’ said Jacoba firmly. ‘What does it mean?’
‘Then do you know of any new gate in the Savoy?’
‘There is nothing “new” about this place. It is falling to pieces!’
She could add nothing more to help him, so Chaloner took his leave, promising to keep her appraised of his progress.
As he left the hospital complex, Ruyven at his heels to make sure he really went, Chaloner met Henry Killigrew.He had been cornered by the Master of the Savoy at his wedding, just after the speeches, and had been compelled to spend a
long time listening to the man’s complaints about the cost of maintaining a lot of elderly buildings. Killigrew, it seemed,
was more interested in profit than in the wellbeing of his residents.
‘And housing these damned Dutchmen is not helping,’ he grumbled when their paths converged, as if the conversation had not
suffered a two-week break. Uninvited, he fell into step at Chaloner’s side and began to walk with him towards the gate. ‘They
are costing me a fortune. Not only do they live here rent-free, but they are very demanding. One even asked me to empty the
latrines, which had overflowed into the room where he was sleeping.’
‘How very unreasonable,’ murmured Chaloner.
Ruyven strained forward. ‘What is he saying about us?’ he demanded in Dutch. ‘All he ever does is make disparaging remarks.
Personally, I think
he
might be a spy, too.’
‘And he is the worst,’ spat Killigrew, jerking a thumb towards Ruyven. ‘Always criticising my security arrangements and carping
on about hygiene. He does not even speak English, the ignorant pig! If he cannot converse in our language, then he should
not have come here.’
‘I suspect him of being Catholic,’ said Ruyven, not understanding Killigrew’s words, but guessing they were offensive. ‘He
has that look about him – devious, scheming and greedy.’
‘Is there a new gate in your hospital?’ asked Chaloner of Killigrew.
‘No, why?’ said Killigrew suspiciously. ‘Did that buttereating lout just tell you that I am going to install one? Well, I am not! He claims the back door is flimsy, but I am not
made of money, and if he is so worried, then why does he not go out and buy one himself? With his
own
silver!’
‘I did
not
break the brazier in the State Room,’ snapped Ruyven, scowling as he tried to follow Killigrew’s rapid
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