The Chelsea Strangler

by Susanna GREGORY

  ‘No, you will not,’ countered Frances firmly. ‘You will stay and make amends. Gorges is a good place, especially now that Dr Parker is not here to force coffee on everyone.’

  Chaloner left them debating the matter, and went outside, his mind a whirl of unanswered questions. Kipps followed, frowning worriedly.

  ‘While I am delighted to be going to Hampton Court and seeing my friends, I do not like leaving you here alone in this den of thieves and killers. Perhaps we should send Brodrick with Frances instead. Or Wiseman.’

  ‘The Earl would never forgive us if anything happened to her,’ said Chaloner. ‘And you are the only man I trust with her safety. Just hurry back as soon as you can.’

  Kipps nodded a promise, and set off to solicit Brodrick’s help in commandeering a carriage. Chaloner trailed after him, trying to decide what to do next. They met Wiseman en route, downcast because he had found a full report about Dorothy among the notes that Chaloner had taken from Parker’s secret drawer, and it was clear that she would never recover. Kipps told him about Frances.

  ‘I once remarked to the Earl that I would send Dorothy to Gorges, should the plague ever come to London,’ said Wiseman. ‘I was impressed by Parker’s theories at the time, and must have waxed so lyrical about them that he decided it was the best place for his daughter, too. I thought she looked familiar.’

  ‘I knew who she was,’ gloated Kipps. ‘He trusts me, you see.’

  Wiseman was more interested in railing against Parker than acknowledging the Seal Bearer’s taunts. As he spoke, he fiddled restlessly with the coin that Reymes had given him – the payment for bleeding his guests.

  ‘I suspect all his assumptions were in error – there is no verifiable evidence that coffee can cure madness, and his conclusions are based on insufficient data. He was a— Damn!’

  The coin spun out of his hand and flashed towards a drain, although Chaloner managed to stamp on it before it rolled in and would have to be retrieved from the filth that had accumulated there. Chaloner picked it up and examined it idly. He rarely saw gold, because Clarendon always paid in shillings, and milled guineas were a relatively new invention that had only made an appearance in the last eighteen months. The King’s head was on the obverse, and underneath it was a symbol.

  ‘Christ!’ he blurted. ‘There is an elephant on this.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Kipps. ‘To show that the gold came from Guinea, which is how the coin earned its name, of course. Why do you think we at the Treasury refer to them as “elephants”? It is not just some random custom, you know.’

  ‘Then why did you not say so?’ demanded Chaloner, exasperated. ‘Because if you had, I would have understood all these references to elephants arriving.’

  ‘What elephants arriving?’ asked Kipps in confusion. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The letter Cocke dropped,’ snapped Chaloner, pulling it from his pocket to wave under the Seal Bearer’s nose. ‘I showed it to you, and you should have told me at once that elephants might refer to…’ He faltered as understanding dawned. ‘You have no Latin! If you had, you would have reacted when Wiseman insulted you at chess this morning. Nor did you understand the epitaph on Thomas More’s tomb.’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ objected Kipps, blushing scarlet with mortification. ‘I am just a little rusty. And what is this about insults at—’

  ‘Then what does this say?’ Chaloner shoved the note at him.

  ‘I do not have my eye-glasses with me,’ said Kipps, refusing to take it.

  ‘You do not wear them,’ countered Wiseman, smirking his delight at the Seal Bearer’s discomfort, while Chaloner was disgusted with himself for not guessing sooner. He wondered how the Seal Bearer had managed to conceal his ignorance, given that he would need some Latin to fulfil his ceremonial functions at Court.

  ‘I improvise,’ said Kipps curtly, although the question was unspoken. ‘And I know French, which is a lot more useful.’

  ‘I should have translated it for you,’ said Chaloner tiredly. ‘Then we would have known.’

  ‘Known what?’ asked Wiseman.

  Chaloner tapped the note. ‘That a quantity of gold coins will arrive tomorrow at dawn.’

  ‘That is the essence of this deadly plot?’ Kipps sounded relieved. ‘Then it is not so terrible! I do not need to abandon Hampton Court and race to your assistance after all.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you do,’ said Chaloner. ‘I imagine they represent an enormous sum of money, and the fact that people know it is coming almost certainly means there is a plan afoot to steal it.’

  ‘Could it be the King’s gold?’ asked Wiseman. ‘I did hear that was to be moved out of White Hall at some point.’

  ‘But not until August,’ said Kipps. ‘And I am Messenger of the Receipt, so I would know if Reymes planned to do it sooner. Besides, it will go to Hampton Court, not Chelsea.’

  Chaloner sincerely hoped that Kipps knew what he was talking about, as the loss of the Treasury in its entirety would likely plunge the country into another civil war.

  Chapter 15

  Chaloner was relieved when the carriage carrying Frances was finally ready to depart. White Hall’s indolence had evidently permeated Buckingham House, because the business took an inordinately long time to arrange, and it was evening before all was set. Brodrick was to ride in the coach with her, while Kipps accompanied them on horseback. The Seal Bearer was armed with a pistol borrowed from Greeting – Chaloner had insisted on keeping Mrs Bonney’s – and his sword was loose in its scabbard. Brodrick was delighted with the opportunity to inveigle his way into the royal presence again.

  ‘I hate to admit it, Chaloner,’ he whispered, ‘but Buckingham House is too much for me. I like a little fun, as you know, but it is relentless here. Moreover, I dislike being ordered to enjoy myself at specific times, and would sooner let the revels develop naturally.’

  Chaloner was thoughtful. ‘So Reymes tells Hungerford and Greeting when to make merry, as well as ensuring that the company is noisy and rambunctious?’

  Brodrick nodded. ‘I felt from the start that it was contrived, and I was right.’

  ‘You know Reymes quite well. Does he ever mention elephants?’

  Brodrick regarded him askance. ‘What a peculiar question! Is there a reason why he should?’

  ‘Has he mentioned a consignment of them being delivered here?’

  ‘No, and I seriously doubt that even he will go to that sort of expense – it is common knowledge that they consume vast quantities of meat and wine. They will be better off staying in London, where those commodities are more readily available.’

  ‘They are readily available here,’ said Chaloner drily. ‘Especially wine, if your antics have been anything to judge by.’

  Brodrick lowered his voice. ‘Drink yes, but not food. The portions are meagre, and I had to snag a few cherries from Gorges’ orchard yesterday, just to stop my stomach from growling. Incidentally, I saw that ghost when I was there – the spectre. It was talking to Franklin.’

  ‘Then why did you not tell me at once?’ demanded Chaloner, irked. No wonder the pace of his enquiries had been so frustratingly slow – no one bothered to talk to him! ‘You know I have been trying to hunt it down.’

  Brodrick looked furtive. ‘Because Gorges does not encourage casual visitors, so I had no legitimate reason to be there now that you are investigat—’

  ‘You went to see Frances,’ surmised Chaloner. ‘And you did not want me to find out, lest I put two and two together. Damn it, Brodrick! Will your family never trust me?’

  Brodrick spread his hands in a shrug. ‘It was not my decision to keep you in the dark. Indeed, when the Earl told me that she was here – which he did only because he needed someone to watch her until you arrived – I urged him to be honest with you. As did Kipps.’

  ‘This spectre,’ said Chaloner, not much mollified. ‘What were it and Franklin doing?’

  ‘Talking,’ replied Brodrick, and shuddered. ‘
I probably should have rescued him, as I cannot imagine the poor man enjoyed the experience.’

  ‘Did he look frightened, then?’

  ‘No, but it is never wise to advertise one’s terror to the enemy – it damages the dignity. Oh, Lord! Now what?’

  Wiseman had arrived with Dorothy in tow, announcing that there would be two extra passengers in the coach. His hapless wife had been dosed with so much soporific that she could barely stand.

  ‘I shall install her at an asylum in Richmond instead,’ the surgeon said, as he packed her into the vehicle. He lowered his voice. ‘Be careful, Chaloner. I cannot decide who is on the side of the angels and who is a devil in this village. Trust no one. And that includes Eleanore Unckles.’

  ‘I hardly think—’ began Chaloner.

  ‘It is just a hunch, but my instincts are usually right, so watch yourself. I never thought I would say it, but I wish Kipps was staying with you.’

  Kipps heard his name spoken, and came to join them. ‘Perhaps I should stay. I am sure Frances will be safe with Wiseman. He is always telling me how good he is in a brawl.’

  ‘Protecting the Earl’s daughter is more important than anything happening here,’ said Chaloner, although he disliked losing the only men he could trust. ‘We have no choice.’

  ‘I shall return as soon as I can,’ promised Kipps. ‘With reinforcements, as I am sure the Earl will expedite matters when I tell him that gold is at stake. And with luck, we shall have troops from Spymaster Williamson by then, too. We will thwart these villains, Tom, never fear.’

  It was a round journey of more than twenty miles – and they might be forced to stop if the road became too dark for the driver to see – so Chaloner doubted if Kipps would arrive back before mid-morning at the earliest. He felt oddly bereft as the coach rattled off with an important clatter, Kipps trotting behind on his nag, already urging the coachmen to hurry.

  With a sigh, he pulled himself together and considered his next move. He had three leads to follow, two of which involved the spectre. First, he needed to ask Franklin about the discussion that Brodrick had witnessed. Second, he wanted to explore Hart’s claim that the spectre had entered the prison. And third, he had to find Reymes, to see what more could be learned about the elephants – hopefully without warning the commissioner that his plot was about to be exposed.

  ‘Dr Franklin has gone to the gaol,’ said Mrs Bonney, when Chaloner returned to Gorges and demanded an audience with the physician. ‘He works day and night now that Dr Parker is no longer here – he is medicus to the prisoners, as well as here, you see.’

  Chaloner left Gorges, walking faster than was pleasant in the heat of a sultry summer evening. There was not so much as a breath of wind, and the air felt hot and heavy. The sky was clear, but there was a prickle of something in the offing – a thunderstorm, perhaps, massing out of sight over the horizon. Or was it just the unshakeable sense that something bad was about to happen, something he might be powerless to prevent?

  He had not gone far, when he saw Eleanore sprinting towards him, skirts gathered in her hands to reveal strong and shapely legs.

  ‘Come quickly,’ she gasped, grabbing his arm. His skin tingled at her touch, although it was hardly the time for such fancies. ‘Something is happening at the prison. Hurry!’

  Eleanore was wrong: the prison was still and forbidding in the fading light, and not so much as a peep from a bird or a bark from a dog broke its oppressive silence. The Thames slithered greasily along its back, while clouds gathered in the distance, and Chaloner thought he saw a flash of lightning, although there was no accompanying thunder.

  ‘There was something,’ she insisted, when several minutes passed and nothing changed. ‘People were coming and going far more than usual, and when I tried to go and chop vegetables in the kitchen, Samm told me that I was not needed.’

  ‘Perhaps they are awaiting a delivery of more food supplies to cache,’ suggested Chaloner. ‘Or prostitutes have been booked to come and—’

  ‘No, it was something more important than that, because Tooker and Samm are on tenterhooks. But we cannot stay here – someone will see us. Come.’

  She led the way to a thicket of shrubs that grew by the College’s south-east corner. It was an excellent vantage point, and allowed them to see not only the main entrance, but a little gate in the eastern wall that Chaloner had not noticed before. Then Eleanore hissed softly, and pointed with an urgent finger. Franklin was stealing along in a distinctly shifty manner.

  ‘He has no need to creep about,’ she whispered. ‘As the prison’s physician, he has every right to go there openly. So what is he doing?’

  They watched Franklin reach the little gate and knock in what appeared to be a pre-arranged pattern of raps. It opened at once, and Tooker and Samm emerged. The three of them began a muttered conference.

  ‘Can you get close enough to hear what they are saying?’ asked Eleanore in an undertone. ‘Yes? Then go. I shall wait here – you are used to this sort of thing, but I am not, and it is too important a matter for inadvertent bungling.’

  Chaloner was pleasantly surprised by her sensible attitude to espionage. In his experience, amateurs tended to be annoyingly insistent on being included in anything risky.

  With one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other clutching Mrs Bonney’s dag, he eased through the undergrowth, struggling to move quietly over the dead leaves that littered the ground, all burned to crunchy crispness by the summer sun. Fortunately, the evening was now full of thick shadows, so at least he could keep himself invisible, even though he felt as if he was making more noise than a herd of cattle.

  He went as close to the gate as he dared and stopped, but the trio were no longer talking and stood in silence. Had they heard him coming? Then the gate opened a second time and twenty or so men filed out – Spring and his cronies. Spring carried a lamp, which allowed Chaloner to see that all were heavily armed. Were these the weapons that Akers thought had been delivered to the Garden Court? Regardless, there was not much he could do against such a horde, other than watch, listen and learn.

  ‘I told you – no!’ Spring was snarling. ‘We need time to prepare. Next week will—’

  ‘It must be tonight,’ interrupted Franklin sharply. ‘Or not at all.’

  ‘Are you sure this is wise, Franklin?’ Tooker was clearly nervous, too. ‘Our other operations have been carefully planned, but this smacks of undue haste. We will all hang if they are caught.’

  ‘Yes, all of us,’ spat Spring viciously. ‘Because we will not protect you if your greed puts us in danger. We are in this together, for profit and for failure. Besides, if you want us to go now, we will not have time to take the back roads – we shall have to use the main one. And folk look hard at anyone going towards London these days.’

  ‘Tonight’s work will not be in London,’ said Franklin. ‘It will be here, in Chelsea.’

  ‘No!’ snapped Tooker. ‘We agreed not to operate here. It is too dangerous.’

  ‘But in this instance, the rewards far outweigh the risks.’ Franklin addressed the prisoners. ‘In fact, you will win enough to keep you in comfort for the rest of your lives, and these nocturnal forays will be a thing of the past. Unless you choose to continue them, of course.’

  ‘You want us to visit Buckingham House,’ predicted Spring heavily. ‘Well, you can think again. It is packed with courtiers and their servants; we would get nowhere near it.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you will,’ said Franklin smugly. ‘Because I have dosed their wine with a soporific, and everyone will be sound asleep. Listen – the place is normally buzzing with activity by now, but what do you hear? Nothing. They are already drowsy, and will be asleep within the hour.’

  With sudden, startling clarity, Chaloner recalled the vinegar-soaked sponge under the chair in the ballroom. It was Franklin’s favoured remedy against the plague, and was a strong indication that the physician had indeed been inside Buckingham House.

  ‘It i
s quiet,’ conceded Tooker. Samm was a silent hulk behind him, but Chaloner could see that the gaoler was also tense and uneasy. ‘But I thought it was because Brodrick has left.’

  ‘I do not care,’ said Spring firmly. ‘It is too chancy, and we are not going.’

  ‘Think of the riches that would be yours if you did,’ coaxed Franklin. ‘Reymes’ guests may not have as much money as the others you have preyed upon, but they still own all manner of priceless trinkets.’

  As Franklin continued to tempt, Chaloner recalled all the people who had mentioned burglaries that targeted the homes of the rich – homes that had been abandoned as the plague had spread. He, like everyone else, had assumed the culprits were local villains, but he had been wrong. They were Spring and his cronies, slipping out of the College under cover of darkness and slinking back with the dawn. Moreover, Stephens at the Treasury had noted that all the crimes had occurred on the western side of the city. Of course they had – it was the part nearest Chelsea.

  But how did they know where to strike? Chaloner rolled his eyes. He knew the answer to that, too: Franklin had a courtier brother – the Admiralty Proctor, who had been left in the disease-infested capital and was bitter about it. What better way to avenge himself on his absent colleagues than by providing his sibling with a list of who was away? And Chaloner knew the proctor was dishonest, because Captain Lester had said as much when Swiftsure had docked in Harwich.

  Chaloner looked back at the men by the gate. It was clever to use prisoners to burgle, as who would suspect men who were thought to be incarcerated? And it explained why Spring and his friends had better food, spacious accommodation and the freedom to lounge in the yard – being spokesmen for the inmates had nothing to do with it.

  So was this the deadly plot that was brewing? Reymes’ guests losing the gold guineas they had brought to Buckingham House? Chaloner sagged in relief. It was not so dreadful.

  ‘We are not doing it,’ Spring was insisting, growing angrier by the moment. ‘Empty houses are fair game, but you want us to invade one that is bursting at the seams with people.’