Page 81 of The King's Man
‘John? Who is this frightful man?’ The woman’s voice quavered with apprehension.
‘It’s all right my dear, I’ll deal with it,’ Thurloe said calmly, adding in a hard voice, ‘In here now, Lovell!’
Mustering what was left of his dignity, Kit marched past the supercilious manservant through the door that Thurloe held open. The door shut behind them both.
‘What is the meaning of this intrusion?’ Thurloe’s voice was icy.
Kit reached into his jacket and slapped the packet of papers down on the table.
‘These are for you.’
‘They could be delivered in the usual manner.’
‘No, they couldn’t. These reports have been bought and paid for with a life, Thurloe. You will find one of them missing. If you care to drag the Thames Estuary you will find it on the body of my friend Fitzjames.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean Fitzjames discovered Bampfield’s little love letters.’ He took a deep shuddering breath. ‘He would have betrayed me.’
‘You killed him?’ Thurloe sank onto a chair.
Kit took a deep breath. ‘No. It was an accident. A bloody, tragic accident.’
‘I see.’ Thurloe looked down at the papers. ‘It was clever of you to put the papers on him. When we recover the body, the word will go about that Fitzjames was the spy. You did well, Lovell.’
Kit turned away, his face contorted in grief and disgust.
‘Poor, bloody Fitz,’ he said. ‘He was as loyal a servant as Charles Stuart would ever find and you will paint him the traitor?’
Thurloe looked up at him. ‘You’re overwrought. Go home, Lovell. After you’ve cleaned up and had a good night’s sleep, you will see that you had no other choice.’
Kit flung himself down on a chair and buried his face in his arms on the table. ‘I’m heartsick of this, Thurloe. Haven’t I done enough? I want to be left in peace.’
Thurloe’s voice was icy. ‘It’s too late for you to be developing a conscience now, Lovell. Go home and tumble your mistress. Amazing what a few hours of female company can do for the soul.’
‘I don’t have a soul,’ Kit mumbled into his arms. ‘I sold it to you, remember?’
‘And you can have it back when this job is done. You can give me your report on matters in Paris when you are in a fit state.’ Thurloe stood and crossed to the door. ‘Oh, and by the way, your little friend has disappeared.’
‘What friend?’ Kit raised his face.
‘Mistress Granville.’
Kit rose uncertainly to his feet and looked Thurloe in the eye. ‘What do you mean, disappeared?’
‘Failed to appear for her lessons with Mistress Skippon. She’s been missing for over a week. I would like her found. She still owes the Commonwealth money.’
Thamsine? Kit’s tired mind tried to grapple with the possible circumstances of Thamsine’s disappearance but exhaustion was asserting itself. Thamsine was a problem he would face in the morning.
He passed through the door Thurloe held open for him without conscious thought. Outside it still rained, more heavily if that was possible, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to get any wetter or colder or more miserable than he already was.
***
At Holborn, Lucy’s maid, Mag, opened the door.
‘Well, well,’ she said, with a sneer of distaste, ‘look who’s back.’
‘It’s a pleasure to see you too, Mag,’ Kit replied coldly. ‘Is your mistress at home?’
