The Butcher of Smithfield by Susanna Gregory Page A

amiss
     anyway?’
    ‘He did not say – he just ordered me to look into the matter.’
    Brome regarded him unhappily. ‘That will almost certainly prove to be dangerous. Newburne was an unsavoury man who knew a
     good many unsavoury people. Hectors, no less.’
    ‘The Smithfield gang?’
    ‘The very same. I am not exaggerating: you would be ill-advised to delve into Newburne’s affairs. However, if you are under
     orders from the Lord Chancellor, I suspect you have no choice. So, if you promise to say nothing about our unlawful use of
     Pepys’s name to procure those newsletters, I will tell you what I know of Newburne. Do I have your word, as a gentleman?’
    ‘You do.’
    Chaloner was astonished when Brome took a deep breath and began to speak – the man was naively trusting of someone he had
     only just met. ‘Newburne took bribes from some of the booksellers he caught breaking the law. He told them a gift to him would
     work out cheaper than a fine from L’Estrange.’
    ‘How do you know?’ Chaloner was disappointed: he already knew this.
    ‘Because I overheard their discussions, and I witnessed several payments made. I pretended not to notice, because I did not
     want to end up crushed between him and L’Estrange. He was an associate of Ellis Crisp, you see.’
    ‘Who is Ellis Crisp?’
    Brome regarded him incredulously. ‘Are you jesting? You
must
have heard of Ellis Crisp.’
    ‘I am only recently returned from Portugal.’
    ‘Perhaps you are, but even so …’ Good manners helped Brome overcome his disbelief at what he clearly regarded as rank ignorance.
     ‘Crisp is the butcher who controls Smithfield – not the legitimate business of selling meat and livestock, but the underworld
     that thrives in the area. He owns the Hectors, and it is his bidding they do. He is the most dangerous man in London. So now
     do you see why I urge you to caution as regards Newburne?’
    Chaloner nodded, although he had never heard of Crisp, and doubted the man would prove too daunting an opponent. He was grateful
     for the warning, though. He wondered if the Earl knew a powerful felon might be involved in Newburne’s death, which led him
     yet again to question his master’s reasons for ordering the investigation.
    ‘Do you think Crisp killed Newburne, then?’
    Brome was startled. ‘No, I think Newburne died from eating cucumbers, although I suppose he might have been forced to consume
     them against his will. I doubt it was by Crisp, though, because Newburne was said to be one of his most valued employees.
     On the other hand, Crisp
is
the kind of man to kill a wayward minion. There are many tales about the untamed violence of the man they call the Butcher
     of Smithfield.’
    ‘The Butcher of Smithfield?’ echoed Chaloner incredulously. He was tempted to smile, but he did not want to offend someone
     who was trying to be helpful. He struggled to keep his expression blank. ‘Does this title refer to his profession or his penchant
     for “untamed violence”?’
    ‘Both, I imagine, although I do not think he has muchto do with the meat trade any more. However, I have been told that his pastries offer a convenient repository for his victims’
     bodies.’
    This time Chaloner did not attempt to control his amusement, and laughed openly. ‘Then I doubt it is a very lucrative business.
     There cannot be many cannibals in London, and no one else will be inclined to dine on pies that own that sort of reputation.’
    Brome shrugged and looked away, and Chaloner saw the bookseller thought there might well be truth in the rumours. Not wanting
     to argue, he changed the subject.
    ‘Can I see L’Estrange today, or should I come back later?’
    Brome forced a smile. ‘I will ask for an interview now. If you are from the Earl of Clarendon, he will probably want to meet
     you. But be warned – he was not in a friendly frame of mind earlier, so you may have to … to speak with caution, so as not
     to ignite his