The Body in the Thames
of ‘researches’, and was astonished that the Spymaster should deem him sufficiently
     important for what was probably a costly exercise.
    ‘If you say so,’ said Downing. He chuckled suddenly. ‘Did I tell you about the time he burgled Grand Pensionary de Witt’s
     bedchamber? The place was heavily guarded, because de Witt was asleep in it at the time. Well, he is the Dutch head of state,
     so of course they are protective of him.’
    Chaloner could scarcely believe his ears. Downing knew it was bad form to chat about the past exploits of intelligencers –
     treaties between countries had been torn up for less. Then there was the danger to the spy himself, although Downing would
     not care about that.
    ‘This is not a story for—’ he began, trying to mask his horror.
    ‘He evaded all the guards, and crept past the slumbering de Witt,’ Downing went on, smirking. ‘Then he stole the key to the
     strongbox where de Witt kept his most secret papers. He opened that box, emptied its contents into a sack, and brought them
     to me. I had an hour to read them, after which he put all back as he had found it. The Dutch never knew he had been.’
    Williamson raised his eyebrows. ‘You had better hope this tale does not find its way to the Savoy, Chaloner, because I doubt
     the Dutch delegation will find it very amusing.’
    ‘No,’ agreed Downing slyly. ‘They might have him assassinated. And good riddance! It will teach him to embarrass me by arresting
     two of my stewards. Why could he not have dealt with the matter discreetly? He did not have to do it in front of the whole
     Court.’
    Chaloner had not really considered the implications for Downing when he had tackled Nisbett and Kicke, not that he would have
     acted any differently if he had. As far as he was concerned, it was Downing’s own fault for hiring villains.
    ‘I do not care if he is executed by the Dutch,’ said Williamson. ‘But I
do
care about the peace talks. Please do not share this tale of de Witt’s bedchamber with anyone else.’
    ‘Peace!’ sneered Downing. ‘There is no hope of that.’
    Williamson regarded him in surprise. ‘I thought you were summoned back from The Hague to assist with the negotiations – to
     help avert needless hostilities.’
    Downing winked at him. ‘I was summoned back. Let us leave it at that.’
    Williamson’s expression was dark. ‘War with the States-General is not a good idea. It will cost a lot of money, for a start
     – money we do not have. I am hoping for an amicable solution.’
    ‘Well, I am not,’ declared Downing baldly. ‘As Envoy Extraordinary, I will be able to claim a much higher income if I am stationed
     in hostile territory.’
    Williamson’s jaw dropped. ‘You would put personal gain above duty to country?’
    Downing raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, come, Williamson! You are as unscrupulous a rogue as I have ever met, so do not pretend
     you are full of lofty principles.’
    ‘You mentioned blackmail,’ said Chaloner, when Williamson did not seem to have an answer. And while Chaloner was amused by
     his discomfiture, it seemed prudent to steer the discussion to other matters.
    ‘Several high-ranking courtiers have received letters,’ explained Williamson, although he continued to stare at Downing. ‘They
     demand large sums of money in exchange for silence about delicate secrets. Obviously, I cannot disclose names, but the victims
     are extremely distressed.’
    Downing sniggered. ‘I imagine so! I have heard that one is being threatened with the exposure of an unmarried sister’s pregnancy,
     while another had a duel in which he killed an opponent. These are not tales “high-ranking courtiers” will want bandied about.’
    ‘How do
you
know?’ demanded Williamson, rounding on him. ‘These gentlemen came to me in confidence, and no one else is supposed to be
     party to the details of their transgressions.’
    ‘I have my spies, just as you have yours,’ replied Downing,

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