wanted to end the conversation, uncomfortable discussing his master’s decisions with the nation’s Head of Intelligence. Moreover, being obliged to admitthat he had been supplanted by the likes of Gery was galling.
‘So can I assume that you have decided to conduct your own inquiry, then?’ asked Williamson.
‘No, you cannot,’ replied Chaloner shortly. Was he really so transparent?
‘Of course you are. Why else would you be loitering in the Post House Yard? I do not blame you. Something untoward has been unfolding here for weeks, and your Earl might be accused of complicity if it comes to fruition. The Post Office is not usually a lord chancellor’s responsibility, but Clarendon’s enemies on the Privy Council have foisted it on him, and will use any trouble to do him harm. And if he falls, so will you.’
‘I am
not
investigating,’ said Chaloner firmly, afraid Williamson might mention it to the Earl, at which point he would be dismissed for certain. ‘Clarendon has forbidden it.’
Williamson frowned his mystification. ‘I wonder if his wits are astray following the death of his son. Did he tell you about it? It happened when you were in Sweden. Young Edward died of the small-pox, like Mary Wood.’
Chaloner had been told of the Earl’s loss, but it had not occurred to him that grief might be responsible for his master’s recent peculiar decisions. If so, the situation was worrisome, because the Earl was responsible for far more important matters than the deployment of his household staff.
‘Have you heard anything about what happened here?’ asked Williamson, nodding towards the crater. ‘I have spies in the Post Office, of course, but they have discovered nothing of value so far.’
Despite his aversion to the Spymaster, Chaloner would far rather he solved thecase than Gery, so he decided to share what he had seen and reasoned.
‘The gunpowder was on a cart, concealed beneath firewood,’ he began. ‘It was a sizeable vehicle, and a horse would have been needed to bring it here. However, the shafts were empty, so the driver had obviously led it away to safety. It was what made me suspicious.’
‘It was you who yelled the warning?’ Williamson nodded before Chaloner could answer. ‘Yes, of course it was. Your vigilance commends you.’
‘Whoever is behind the explosion did not bring the gunpowder here himself,’ Chaloner went on. ‘He hired someone else to do it – someone who is poor, and who baulked at sacrificing a horse.’
‘Not necessarily. He might have been fond of the beast.’
‘Then he would not have used it to transport explosives. Moreover, gunpowder is expensive, which means a considerable sum of money was invested in the attack. Would the culprit really risk failure just to save an animal?’
‘I suppose not.’ Williamson was trying to sound uninterested, but there was a keen spark in his eyes.
‘Also, if he had delivered the stuff himself, he would have positioned the cart in a place where it would do the most damage to buildings and people—’
‘But it was in the middle of the square,’ mused Williamson. ‘Not only well away from the General Letter Office and its adjoining houses, but where there were the fewest bystanders.’
‘Quite. I suspect his hireling either did not care enough about the mission to risk being caught by driving closer, or had not bothered to familiarise himself with the way gunpowder works.’
‘Which the realculprit would have done, given the expense. Very well. What else?’
‘There was a musician who attracted a crowd of listeners, and who disappeared after the blast. You might want to find out whether his presence was innocent, or whether he enticed people to linger in the hope that they would be killed or injured.’
Williamson nodded slowly. ‘Although that would be an unpleasant solution. It means someone left the powder not to destroy a building or disrupt the post, but to beget a massacre.’
Chaloner said
‘So can I assume that you have decided to conduct your own inquiry, then?’ asked Williamson.
‘No, you cannot,’ replied Chaloner shortly. Was he really so transparent?
‘Of course you are. Why else would you be loitering in the Post House Yard? I do not blame you. Something untoward has been unfolding here for weeks, and your Earl might be accused of complicity if it comes to fruition. The Post Office is not usually a lord chancellor’s responsibility, but Clarendon’s enemies on the Privy Council have foisted it on him, and will use any trouble to do him harm. And if he falls, so will you.’
‘I am
not
investigating,’ said Chaloner firmly, afraid Williamson might mention it to the Earl, at which point he would be dismissed for certain. ‘Clarendon has forbidden it.’
Williamson frowned his mystification. ‘I wonder if his wits are astray following the death of his son. Did he tell you about it? It happened when you were in Sweden. Young Edward died of the small-pox, like Mary Wood.’
Chaloner had been told of the Earl’s loss, but it had not occurred to him that grief might be responsible for his master’s recent peculiar decisions. If so, the situation was worrisome, because the Earl was responsible for far more important matters than the deployment of his household staff.
‘Have you heard anything about what happened here?’ asked Williamson, nodding towards the crater. ‘I have spies in the Post Office, of course, but they have discovered nothing of value so far.’
Despite his aversion to the Spymaster, Chaloner would far rather he solved thecase than Gery, so he decided to share what he had seen and reasoned.
‘The gunpowder was on a cart, concealed beneath firewood,’ he began. ‘It was a sizeable vehicle, and a horse would have been needed to bring it here. However, the shafts were empty, so the driver had obviously led it away to safety. It was what made me suspicious.’
‘It was you who yelled the warning?’ Williamson nodded before Chaloner could answer. ‘Yes, of course it was. Your vigilance commends you.’
‘Whoever is behind the explosion did not bring the gunpowder here himself,’ Chaloner went on. ‘He hired someone else to do it – someone who is poor, and who baulked at sacrificing a horse.’
‘Not necessarily. He might have been fond of the beast.’
‘Then he would not have used it to transport explosives. Moreover, gunpowder is expensive, which means a considerable sum of money was invested in the attack. Would the culprit really risk failure just to save an animal?’
‘I suppose not.’ Williamson was trying to sound uninterested, but there was a keen spark in his eyes.
‘Also, if he had delivered the stuff himself, he would have positioned the cart in a place where it would do the most damage to buildings and people—’
‘But it was in the middle of the square,’ mused Williamson. ‘Not only well away from the General Letter Office and its adjoining houses, but where there were the fewest bystanders.’
‘Quite. I suspect his hireling either did not care enough about the mission to risk being caught by driving closer, or had not bothered to familiarise himself with the way gunpowder works.’
‘Which the realculprit would have done, given the expense. Very well. What else?’
‘There was a musician who attracted a crowd of listeners, and who disappeared after the blast. You might want to find out whether his presence was innocent, or whether he enticed people to linger in the hope that they would be killed or injured.’
Williamson nodded slowly. ‘Although that would be an unpleasant solution. It means someone left the powder not to destroy a building or disrupt the post, but to beget a massacre.’
Chaloner said
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