Page 60 of The King's Man
‘What makes you say that?’ Fitz asked.
De Baas sat bolt upright and threw his hands in the air. ‘Mon Dieu, they wear nightcaps under their hats!’
‘Pardon?’ Gerard asked.
‘I have seen them in Whitehall standing sentinel with these absurd nightcaps under their hats. No real soldier would condescend to wear such foolish clothing.’
The two Englishmen stared at him. ‘It probably keeps their heads warm,’ Fitz commented, his brow creased in perplexity.
‘So what do you propose you can do for us, De Baas?’ Gerard changed the subject.
‘I can assist with the overthrow of this Lord Protector.’
‘How?’
‘You need a skilled assassin to kill Cromwell. I know of just such a man.’
A thrill of excitement ran down Thamsine’s spine.Thiswas what Thurloe wanted to hear.
‘What makes you think we are not capable of doing the job?’ Fitzjames asked, his tone defensive.
De Baas scoffed, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his kerchief. ‘Cromwell is guarded well. He knows he is not immortal. You may have been fine soldiers, my friends, but this is a task for a specialist.’
‘And what is the price of this specialist service?’ Fitzjames asked.
De Baas shrugged. ‘Call it mutual benefit. You will get your King back and France will be free of interference from England. That is the offer, my friends.’
‘And Cardinal Mazarin, does he know of this proposal?’
De Baas sniffed, holding the lace-edged kerchief to his nose. ‘He may or then again, he may not.’
‘Baron de Baas. You must understand that this is not a matter we can decide on now. It has to be discussed with and approved by the King before we can act,’ Fitzjames said.
De Baas spread his hands. ‘Of course, I understand. There is no hurry. I suggest you speak with your superiors in Paris, convince your King of this matter, and we can talk again in a few weeks. Now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me … ’ he looked towards the bedroom door but by the time he reached it, Thamsine had gone, slipping through the servant’s door and down the back stairs into the cold night air.
***
‘Well?’
Thamsine flushed at Kit’s peremptory greeting. She set her hat and cloak down on an empty stool and sat down at the table. She looked around but the taproom of the Ship was quiet.
‘The man is insufferable,’ she said in a low voice. ‘His bedchamber resembled a brothel.’
‘And how would you know what a brothel looks like?’ Kit raised an eyebrow. ‘Did he … ’
‘No,’ Thamsine snapped. ‘It was fortunate for me that our little tryst was interrupted by two of your friends.’
‘My friends?’
Thamsine nodded. ‘I’ve seen them here. The tall, fair-haired man and the young man. Fitzjames and Gerard, I think he called them.’
‘Hmm,’ Kit said, more to himself than to her. ‘Could you hear what was said?’
Thamsine related the gist of the conversation and Kit’s eyes gleamed in the gloom.
He tapped his fingers on the side of his mug. ‘So they are set on this course. Fools! If they think the King will ever agree to assassination … ’
Thamsine rose to her feet. ‘If that is all, Captain Lovell. It has been a long day and I have an appointment with your lovely mistress tomorrow.’
