The Cheapside Corpse by Susanna Gregory Read Free Book Online Page A

he is indeed
Rich
Taylor, and has grown even more so since February.’
    ‘Because of the lady with him,’ explained the woman. ‘His daughter-in-law Joan, whose first husband was stabbed. She inherited a vast fortune, and formed an alliance with Mr Taylor by marrying his son. Their pooled resources created the biggest bank in London.’
    ‘Then her first husband must have been Dick Wheler,’ surmised Chaloner.
    The woman nodded to the lane that ran along the side of the tavern. ‘He was killed over there, walking down White Goat Wynd. He was alone, as he assumed that no one would dare raise a hand against him, so he never bothered with guards.’
    ‘It is a lesson the other bankers have taken to heart,’ said the man with a smirk. ‘None take that sort of chance now. And they are wise to protect themselves, as there is no more hated profession than banking these days.’
    Chaloner stared at the alley. It linked Cheapside with Goldsmiths’ Row, and there was nothing to distinguish it from any other passageway in the area. It was too narrow for anything bigger than a handcart, and comprised walls with a few well-secured gates. It would be very dark at night, so was the perfect place for an ambush.
    ‘We should introduce ourselves,’ said the woman. ‘I am Lettice Shaw, and this is my husband Robin. He was a goldsmith once, too.’
    ‘Thank God we are out of
that
dirty business,’ said Shaw, casting a disapproving eye at the elegantly clad group on the other side of the road.
    ‘Now we run a music shop instead.’ Lettice waved towards a nearby building that, while strategically placed to snag passing trade, was an unprepossessing place. ‘We have the honour of supplying instruments and books to Court, which is much more fun than high finance.’
    ‘And a good deal less fraught,’ agreed Shaw, his glum expression lifting slightly. ‘Would you like to see it, Mr…’
    ‘Chaloner – Tom Chaloner.’
    The couple exchanged a glance. ‘Not Hannah Chaloner’s husband?’ asked Lettice.
    Chaloner nodded cautiously. ‘Do you know her from Court?’
    Lettice inclined her head. ‘She bought a flageolet from us last year.’
    ‘A silver one,’ added Shaw, a little pointedly. ‘With a jewelled case.’
    Chaloner did not like the flageolet at the best of times, but it had taken on a particularly shrill quality in Hannah’s hands. Fortunately, she had soon tired of it, after which the thing had been tossed in a chest and forgotten. Then he looked from Shaw to Lettice, and groaned.
    ‘I suppose she neglected to pay for it.’
    Hannah was not dishonest or especially forgetful, but she took her cue from her aristocratic colleagues, who were notoriously bad at settling their accounts. Chaloner was always amazed that tradesmen were willing to deal with them at all, and could only suppose that they were compensated for the inevitable lack of payment by the kudos accruing from being able to count so-called ‘people of quality’ among their clientele.
    ‘A matter of forty pounds,’ shrugged Lettice, looking away uncomfortably. ‘A mere trifle.’
    It was a long way from being a mere trifle, and Chaloner did not have it to give them – and he doubted he would be able to raise such a sum very soon if he was obliged to satisfy Taylor first. He supposed he would have to dig the instrument out and see if they would accept it in return for a smaller repayment. Unfortunately, he recalled Hannah flinging it across the room in frustration at one point, while the jewels on the box had fallen prey to dishonest servants. A dented flageolet and a despoiled case were unlikely to be received with great enthusiasm, but Chaloner was desperate enough to try anything.
    ‘Hannah told us that you own alum mines in Yorkshire,’ said Shaw. ‘They are the only source of the stuff outside Rome, and thus a very lucrative concern.’
    ‘They are,’ said Chaloner, thinking the first King Charles would not have stolen them if they