4 A Plague of Angels: A Sir Robert Carey Mystery by P. F. Chisholm Page B

eventually confess to treason.’
    ‘Ay,’ said Dodd, his mouth gone dry. ‘I see now what he was trying. What should I do, sir? He seems to think I know what went on in Scotland. And I dinna, sir, I was wi’ the Johnstones when ye…er…when ye were talking to the King.’
    ‘A piece of advice for you, Dodd,’ Carey said, fiddling with the embroidered cuffs of his fancy gloves. ‘If Heneage offers you a bribe, take it. Answer his questions, tell him whatever you can; by all means play stupid, but convince him that you are frightened enough of him to want to co-operate. He likes that.’
    ‘Ay.’
    Carey squinted through the window glass again and then sat down and ran his hand through his hair.
    ‘My blasted father’s disappeared off with Heneage to have a look at some property Mr Vice wants to buy. God knows why they’re both here when the Queen’s on progress in Oxford and they’re thick as thieves as well. I thought Father loathed the man.’
    ‘Perhaps Heneage wants blackrent fra yer father?’ offered Dodd. Carey gave him one of those very blue considering looks of his.
    ‘You catch on fast, don’t you Dodd?’ he said. ‘Yes, I’m beginning to think something like that is going on, but I’m damned if I can work out what. Father ought to be untouchable by the likes of Heneage.’
    Dodd knew this was because Lord Hunsdon was in fact the Queen’s bastard half-brother. Carey was staring out of the window and the expression on his face was one that Dodd had never seen there before; a cold, wary, calculating look.
    ‘Anyway, he says he wants me to write a report for him about Scotland. Presumably, one he can show to Heneage.’
    ‘Ay, sir. Which tale will ye tell?’
    Carey looked amused at Dodd’s tone. ‘The one for public consumption, of course. It seems nobody the Cecils or Heneage is paying for news from Scotland actually recognised me at the crucial time, which is a blessed relief. Thanks for backing me with Heneage, by the way, you did it perfectly. I nearly bust a gut trying not to laugh at his expression when you were stonewalling him.’
    Dodd tilted his head in acknowledgement. ‘Ay, sir. I’ll own I was surprised to hear ye…er…tell such a strange tale to your dad.’
    ‘What? You mean, lie to him?’ Carey grinned, who would have instantly called Dodd out if he’d said the word himself. ‘I didn’t. He’s already got the real report from me. He warned me to be tactful with Heneage, so I was.’
    ‘Er…how?’
    ‘Called me Robert. Never does that, not ever. Usually it’s Robin, boy or bloody idiot, depending. I wanted to talk to him about it last night but his man said he was…ah…busy and passed the message about the report. Now it seems I’m stuck here indoors scribbling away like some damned clerk—God, how I hate paperwork. But I want you and Barnabus to go and do some scouting for me. See what’s going on. Barnabus will want to put a notice up in St Paul’s to find a new master and if you see any likely looking northerners who might make a decent valet de chambre for me, get their names. I may have to borrow somebody from Father, seeing the Court’s not in town and the law term not started yet. And something’s wrong here but I’m not sure what.’
    ‘With your father?’
    ‘And with London too. It’s too quiet. Strand’s half-empty. Where is everybody? Bartolmy’s fair just packed up and Southwark due to start, but all the traders seem to have made off as fast as they can with their woolsacks and bolts of cloth. I want to know why. Stick close to Barnabus, and if you get lost, head south for the river and then go westwards until you find Somerset House. Or take a boat.’
    ‘Ay, sir.’
    ‘And leave any of your money behind that you don’t want stolen. London pick-pockets are famous the world over.’
    As Dodd had brought what had once seemed to him like the large sum of three shillings from his pay and also had an angel and some shillings from the