Free The Body in the Thames by Susanna Gregory

sentences. ‘And you
     can tell him so, because I know that is what he is carping about. I was nowhere near it when it fell. Go on, tell him.’
    ‘Ruyven did not break the brazier,’ obliged Chaloner in English.
    Killigrew narrowed his eyes. ‘I never thought he did, but now he denies it, I begin to wonder. Could it be his conscience
     speaking? Between you and me, I suspect him of being Catholic, and you know what
they
are like with guilt.’
    ‘Christ!’ muttered Chaloner, reaching the gate with relief.
    Ruyven caught his arm before he could step through it. ‘It is best if you do not come here again. Your presence will only
     distress Jacoba.’
    ‘But she has asked me to look into what happened to Willem,’ said Chaloner. ‘And she wants reports on my progress.’
    Ruyven stared at him. ‘Then you can give them to me. I shall also be investigating.’
    ‘I would not recommend it. You are right in that London is hostile to Hollanders, especially ones who cannot speak English.
     You are likely to land yourself in trouble.’
    ‘Is that a threat?’ demanded Ruyven.
    ‘It is friendly advice. You are unlikely to succeed, anda second suspicious death in the ambassador’s retinue would ruin the negotiations for certain. Hanse would not want that.’
    ‘No,’ conceded Ruyven reluctantly. ‘Very well. I shall not interfere. But I want you to keep me abreast of your findings.
     I am in charge of security here, so I am within my rights to ask.’
    Chaloner inclined his head, although he had no intention of obliging. Not until he was sure Hanse’s killer was not a Dutchman,
     at least.
    ‘I had no idea Hannah was marrying a fellow who spoke Hollandish,’ said Killigrew, watching Ruyven stride away, and then turning
     to glare accusingly at Chaloner. ‘It is not seemly, man. Not in this day and age.’
    ‘Where is the nearest new gate that you know of?’ asked Chaloner. He suspected Killigrew was not alone in his convictions,
     and wondered what chance there was for a treaty when there was so much dislike between the two countries. And it was not even
     a dislike he understood. Both were Protestant nations, and they had been allies in the past.
    Killigrew regarded him askance. ‘What is this obsession with new gates? Are you sun-touched?’
    ‘I am thinking of replacing the one at home,’ lied Chaloner, supposing he had better furnish an explanation. Killigrew was
     inclined to gossip, and he did not want it put about that he was short of wits. Or that his familiarity with Dutch was leading
     him into suspicious activities regarding doors.
    ‘And you want to inspect a few before you make a final decision? Well, why did you not say so?’ Killigrew frowned in thought.
     ‘No one around here has brought one recently. In fact, the only “new gate” I can think ofis Newgate itself, and you will not want one of those in your garden!’
    He roared with laughter as he stepped out of the hospital precinct and turned right along The Strand, leaving Chaloner staring
     after him thoughtfully.
Did
Hanse’s message refer to the prison? But Hanse had known nothing about Chaloner’s career as a spy, so had no reason to expect
     him to unravel cryptic clues. So why had he left one for him? Or was Jacoba wrong, and the words sewn in the hose were intended
     for someone else?
    Before he went to White Hall, he stopped at his house in Tothill Street to inspect the stockings Hanse had given him. They
     were lying on a bench in the parlour, where he had tossed them when he had arrived home on Friday night, too tired to think
     of putting them away.
    They were thin summer ones, obviously intended to be worn while the weather was warm. Was that significant? It did not take
     him many moments to see that it was. There were words sewn into the finer of the two pairs – the ones he was most likely to
     have used first. They were:
Sinon
and
Bezoek Nieuwe Poort
again. So Jacoba had been right: Hanse’s message
had
been intended