The Westminster Poisoner by Susanna Gregory Page B

piece of lace. ‘And it
     is not even light yet. Did you know I found Langston dead earlier?’
    Chaloner raised his eyebrows. ‘It is true? I hoped it was just coffee-house gossip.’
    ‘You heard it in a coffee house?’ The Earl was aghast. ‘Is nothing sacred? I suppose the guards must have blathered. It gave
     me a terrible fright, you see, and my cries of alarm brought them running.’
    ‘What were you doing at Westminster so early, sir?’ asked Chaloner, trying to keep the reproach from his voice. ‘You know
     it is not safe.’
    ‘I had important business there – urgent missives for France, which were scribed overnight and required my seal before being
     dispatched to Dover today.’
    ‘Could these documents not have been brought to your home?’
    ‘I grew anxious waiting for them, and Haddon and Turner were to hand, so I told them to accompany me. Turner is good with
     a sword, so I felt quite safe. We were cutting through the Painted Chamber, when we discovered Langston. Dead.’
    ‘Poisoned?’
    ‘Turner thinks so. It was just like the first two: a corpse lying on the floor, with no sign of a cup or a jug. He has gone
     to find out where Greene was at the salient time, even though he was exhausted – he spent all last night at that ridiculous
     Babylonian ball, listening for gossip about the murders. He is a diligent fellow, working on my behalf. Where were you last
     night? Asleep in bed?’
    Chaloner was tempted to say he had been resting after an attack intended to kill him, but managed to hold his tongue. The
     Earl could not be trusted to keep the tale to himself, and Chaloner did not want the train-band learning they had left a survivor
     just yet. He addressed another issue instead.
    ‘I also heard you had asked Langston to be your spy. Did you?’
    The Earl glowered at him. ‘You spend too much time in coffee-houses, and too little on your duties. Turner would never waste
his
energies listening to gossip.’
    ‘You just said he spent all last night doing exactly that, at the Babylonian ball,’ Chaloner pointed out before he could stop
     himself. He rubbed his head and closed his eyes, wishing he had not spoken. Aggravating the Earl was not a wise thing to do.
    ‘You presume too much on my patience,’ said the Earl coldly. ‘Either find evidence that shows Greene is the killer, or find
     yourself another employer. Do you understand me?’
    Chaloner frowned. ‘I am not sure. Are you ordering me to look
only
for evidence that proves Greene is guilty, and ignore anything that might point to another culprit?’
    The Earl flung up his hands in exasperation. ‘What is wrong with you today? Can you not string two wordstogether without abusing me? Of course Greene is guilty, and I cannot imagine why you refuse to believe it – the
Lady
is going around declaring his innocence, for a start. Did you know that? That is as good as screaming his culpability from
     the rooftops as far as I am concerned. The King’s mistress does not demean herself by taking the side of insignificant clerks
     without good reason.’
    Chaloner gazed uneasily at him. ‘Lady Castlemaine has taken Greene’s side? I did not know.’
    ‘Well, you do now,’ snapped the Earl.
    Chaloner left the Earl with his thoughts in a whirl of confusion. He looked in Bulteel’s little office, hoping to obtain some
     confirmation of their master’s claims, but it was too early for the secretary, and his desk was empty. Why would Lady Castlemaine
     take Greene’s side? Was it because she hated the Lord Chancellor with a passion, and tended to support anyone he disliked,
     as a matter of principle? Or was she involved in the murders somehow? Chaloner could not imagine why she should stoop to such
     dark and dangerous business, but she was an incorrigible meddler, so perhaps she could not help herself. The Lady was not
     someone he wanted to confront, though – at least, not until he had more information.
    It was still dark when he