The Butcher of Smithfield by Susanna Gregory Read Free Book Online Page B

and
only
read the advertisements. For example, last Monday’s
Intelligencer
told me that one Captain Hammond was deprived of a dappled grey gelding near Clapham. Now that
is
interesting.’
    ‘It is?’ Chaloner wondered if Leybourn was being facetious.
    ‘Yes, for two reasons. First, it tells me Hammond is in town, which is good to know, because he owes me money. And secondly,
     I am now aware that I must commiserate with him when we meet. There is a great yearning for news these days, you see – it
     is a lucrative and booming business.’
    ‘Is it?’
    ‘Oh, yes. These last few months have witnessed a burning desire to know what is happening at home
and
overseas. Of course, if you want real news, you must subscribe to Muddiman’s weekly letters.’ Leybourn tapped the handwritten
     sheet in front of Chaloner with a bony forefinger. ‘He is a professional journalist, not a pamphleteer like L’Estrange, and
     so can be trusted to tell the truth.’
    ‘You cannot trust L’Estrange?’
    ‘Of course not! He is the government’s mouthpiece, and only fools believe anything
they
say. But suppressingthe news is not his only talent. It is his job to censor – which he thinks means “macerate” – every book published, too. You
     should see what he did to my pamphlet on surveying.’
    Chaloner wondered what Leybourn could have written that was controversial; surveying was hardly a subject that would have
     insurgents champing at the bit. ‘What did you do? Tell your readers how to build palaces that will collapse and crush unpopular
     courtiers?’
    ‘It was almost entirely given over to technical calculations, and needed no editing from an amateur. But edit L’Estrange did,
     and the result was an incomprehensible jumble that made me look like a half-wit. And I am not the only one to suffer. There
     were six hundred booksellers in London a couple of years ago, but he fined so many of them for breaking his silly rules, that
     there are only fifty of us left. His vicious tactics have put many good men in debtors’ prison.’
    ‘He is unpopular, then,’ said Chaloner, recalling how it was Newburne’s task to report wayward booksellers to L’Estrange.
     It doubtless meant the solicitor – or ‘minion’ in the Lord Chancellor’s words – was held in equal contempt.
    ‘Very. He has gone into business with a fellow called Brome – using Brome’s shop as a base for his vile activities. Decent
     man, Brome, although inclined to be spineless. I cannot imagine he is pleased with the arrangement.’
    ‘He cannot mind that much, or he would tell L’Estrange to leave.’
    Leybourn snorted derisive laughter. ‘If he did, it would be his last act on Earth. Oh, I am sure Brome is making a pretty
     penny from L’Estrange, but he will not be happyabout it. Money is not everything, after all. There is principle to consider.’
    ‘You seem to know a lot about the situation.’
    ‘People talk and I am a good listener. Why all these questions, Tom? I know one of L’Estrange’s toadies – a fellow called
     Newburne – met an untimely end last week, but I hope you have not been charged to investigate
his
demise.’
    ‘Why should you wish that?’
    ‘Because no one was sorry when he died, and if he was murdered, then there will be a lot of men eager to shake the killer’s
     hand. You do not want to be embroiled in that sort of thing.’
    Leybourn’s chatter had unsettled Chaloner, and it brought home yet again the fact that the Lord Chancellor was not a good
     master. Clarendon must have known about L’Estrange’s unpopularity, but had not bothered to mention it. The spy wondered whether
     his initial suspicion had been correct: that the Earl was deliberately sending him into a dangerous situation to teach him
     a lesson for ‘abandoning’ him.
    ‘We have not had a dry day since June,’ grumbled Leybourn, glancing at the sky as they left the Rhenish Wine House. ‘Will
     you walk to the Westminster Stairs