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Authors: Susanna Gregory
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ruthless criminal with a powerful trainband at his disposal, but he would never kill a popular fellow like Coo – the culprit will earn the undying enmity of all Cheapside, and he is too canny to incur that sort of dislike. Unless Coo refused to pay the Protection Tax, of course. Then Baron might strike.’
‘The Protection Tax is what we on Cheapside pay to ensure we are not burgled, burned down or vandalised,’ explained Lettice in response to Chaloner’s questioning look. ‘It is extortion, of course, given that Mr Baron’s men will be doing the burgling, burning and vandalising.’ She turned to her husband. ‘But Dr Coo was exempt, Robin – his reward for tending the trainband.’
Shaw shrugged. ‘Well, even if Baron was rash enough to kill Coo, no one will ever prove it. He kept Wheler’s nasty operation –
his
nasty operation now – running smoothly for years, and he knows how to hide his tracks. He will never be charged with a crime.’
He would, if the Earl had his way, thought Chaloner. ‘You say Wheler’s operation is now Baron’s, but how did Baron win control? Or does he work for Joan?’
‘When Wheler died, she inherited everything,’ explained Shaw. ‘But Baron seized the
illegal
side of the venture – the brothels, gambling dens and Protection Tax – before she could stop him. She was livid, but what could she do? She can hardly take him to court, given that the concerns she wanted to reclaim are criminal.’
‘It was probably his antics that encouraged her to marry Randal,’ added Lettice. ‘No one will steal from her now she is under Mr Taylor’s wing.’
‘So who killed Wheler?’ asked Chaloner, ever hopeful for an easy solution. ‘Baron?’
‘Perhaps,’ replied Lettice. ‘Unfortunately, there are lots of rumours but no evidence to support any of them. No one actually
saw
him stabbed.’
‘When the body was found the next morning,’ Shaw continued, ‘it had been stripped completely naked. That suggests to me that it was the work of opportunistic thieves.’
‘Not an unhappy client?’ pressed Chaloner. ‘Or a colleague? Or even a wife who wanted to inherit his business?’
‘All are possible,’ shrugged Shaw. ‘But as Lettice said, there is no proof.’
‘The affair has caused much discord on Cheapside, though,’ sighed Lettice. ‘Everyone is using it to accuse everyone else – paupers blaming bankers, bankers suspecting their clients … I suppose that is what happens when a man so universally hated is dispatched.’
‘Wheler led the way in setting very high interest rates,’ explained Shaw. ‘Along with ruthless methods of collecting – an example that is now being followed by Taylor. I deplore such tactics, personally. It would never have happened in my day. Then, bankers were gentlemen.’
Chaloner could only suppose that had been a very long time ago. ‘Do you think Wheler was killed by the same people who shot Coo?’ He glanced to where the laundress was still scrubbing stains from the step. ‘Or are there two murderers on Cheapside?’
Lettice chuckled. ‘I suspect there are rather more than two! Mr Baron does not recruit angels for his trainband.’
‘The two deaths are not connected,’ said Shaw irritably, while Chaloner wondered why such a morose fellow had wed a woman who could not stop laughing. ‘How could they be? A much-loved physician and an unpopular banker? One shot, the other stabbed? One killed in an alley, the other on his doorstep? One now, the other two months ago?’
He had a point. ‘Plague,’ said Chaloner, thinking that as Coo was now unavailable for questioning, he would have to quiz others instead. ‘Have you heard that an infected man named Georges DuPont became ill in Long Acre, but came to Cheapside to die?’
‘Of course,’ replied Shaw. ‘But there have been no other cases, thank God. It was a selfish thing to have done, and I cannot imagine what he was thinking.’
Chaloner asked more questions,
‘The Protection Tax is what we on Cheapside pay to ensure we are not burgled, burned down or vandalised,’ explained Lettice in response to Chaloner’s questioning look. ‘It is extortion, of course, given that Mr Baron’s men will be doing the burgling, burning and vandalising.’ She turned to her husband. ‘But Dr Coo was exempt, Robin – his reward for tending the trainband.’
Shaw shrugged. ‘Well, even if Baron was rash enough to kill Coo, no one will ever prove it. He kept Wheler’s nasty operation –
his
nasty operation now – running smoothly for years, and he knows how to hide his tracks. He will never be charged with a crime.’
He would, if the Earl had his way, thought Chaloner. ‘You say Wheler’s operation is now Baron’s, but how did Baron win control? Or does he work for Joan?’
‘When Wheler died, she inherited everything,’ explained Shaw. ‘But Baron seized the
illegal
side of the venture – the brothels, gambling dens and Protection Tax – before she could stop him. She was livid, but what could she do? She can hardly take him to court, given that the concerns she wanted to reclaim are criminal.’
‘It was probably his antics that encouraged her to marry Randal,’ added Lettice. ‘No one will steal from her now she is under Mr Taylor’s wing.’
‘So who killed Wheler?’ asked Chaloner, ever hopeful for an easy solution. ‘Baron?’
‘Perhaps,’ replied Lettice. ‘Unfortunately, there are lots of rumours but no evidence to support any of them. No one actually
saw
him stabbed.’
‘When the body was found the next morning,’ Shaw continued, ‘it had been stripped completely naked. That suggests to me that it was the work of opportunistic thieves.’
‘Not an unhappy client?’ pressed Chaloner. ‘Or a colleague? Or even a wife who wanted to inherit his business?’
‘All are possible,’ shrugged Shaw. ‘But as Lettice said, there is no proof.’
‘The affair has caused much discord on Cheapside, though,’ sighed Lettice. ‘Everyone is using it to accuse everyone else – paupers blaming bankers, bankers suspecting their clients … I suppose that is what happens when a man so universally hated is dispatched.’
‘Wheler led the way in setting very high interest rates,’ explained Shaw. ‘Along with ruthless methods of collecting – an example that is now being followed by Taylor. I deplore such tactics, personally. It would never have happened in my day. Then, bankers were gentlemen.’
Chaloner could only suppose that had been a very long time ago. ‘Do you think Wheler was killed by the same people who shot Coo?’ He glanced to where the laundress was still scrubbing stains from the step. ‘Or are there two murderers on Cheapside?’
Lettice chuckled. ‘I suspect there are rather more than two! Mr Baron does not recruit angels for his trainband.’
‘The two deaths are not connected,’ said Shaw irritably, while Chaloner wondered why such a morose fellow had wed a woman who could not stop laughing. ‘How could they be? A much-loved physician and an unpopular banker? One shot, the other stabbed? One killed in an alley, the other on his doorstep? One now, the other two months ago?’
He had a point. ‘Plague,’ said Chaloner, thinking that as Coo was now unavailable for questioning, he would have to quiz others instead. ‘Have you heard that an infected man named Georges DuPont became ill in Long Acre, but came to Cheapside to die?’
‘Of course,’ replied Shaw. ‘But there have been no other cases, thank God. It was a selfish thing to have done, and I cannot imagine what he was thinking.’
Chaloner asked more questions,
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