From the Secret Diaries of Samuel Pepys:

"The Medway Spy Caper...Part I...

"Professor Hooke, the London Gazette's readers want the scoop on the
Medway spy caper, as London's premiere natural philosopher and COO of the Royal Society what can you tell us?" anxious reporter pleads.

A leering, lean, cragged-faced Hooke at desk leans back...

"Ah, the Medway spy ring, yes. A fascinating tale of intrigue,
infidelity, treason, and murder..."

"But how did it all start? What's the scoop, Mr. Hooke?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? Heh, heh..." cackle.

"London's reading public wants answers! And you, the man whom all
England says cracked the case, have them...!"

"I played my role. But is London, is all England ready for the
answers, my young friend? Can you handle the truth?"

"Properly censored by the government, sure...This is the London Gazette,
after all."

"Hmmn...Yes, well then, it all began with the arrival of three master
salesmen at Seething Lane, our Naval HQ. They had been walking for
miles...And miles...And miles..." shrewd nod.

***

Seething Lane...Home of Britain's Naval Offices...And particularly "seething" today...

"La, la, la, la..."

"No!! No, No, No, NO!!! Barker!! Your voice suits your name,
girl!!!" Slap of paper on table...Sobbing Barker runs from room.

"Sam'l? Barker's doing her best. Now, if you'd let me do it. With
all my new trilling abilities..." Beaming. eager smile...

"The girl is hopeless, hopeless!! What?...Ummn..." the fumed Samuel Pepys                                                  eyes wife Bess with immediately concealed horror.

"Mrs. Pepys? Someone...Ones at the door, mum." slight, dark-haired maid                                                    Jane, at door.

Phew, Sam mops brow at salvation in Jane form.

"Oh, good... Sam'l...I've a surprise for you..."

............................................................................................................................

"Yes?" Bess eyes the short, beetle-browed leader of the group of three at her door...Next a short, balding figure leering at her, and a tubby, close-cropped fellow clearly smitten, holding box.

"Uh, Ma'am...We represent..."

"You must be the three music masters recommended to me by Mr.
Greeting? The only men in England who could properly teach anyone to
sing my husband's latest work? If you succeed in teaching me..."
Beam... "Or our girl, Barker..." Frown... "...to do it, I will pay you
each five pounds."

"Lady, we ain't...Ow!!" Blow from leader of the three on the head of
the stout, bald speaker...

"Quiet. Lady for five pounds each, we'll have you belting a tune like
nobody's business."

"Bess? Who are these...Gentlemen?" Sam eyes the weary trio.

"Sam'l. These are three of England's greatest musical instructors...Mr.
Greeting recommended them to me."

"Them?" Blinking at the group...

"This is Professor ...?"

"Howard, ma'am. And may I present my colleagues, that great virtuoso of viol and violin Professor
Fine..."

Hmmn...Viol?  Violin? Sam regards the group.

Vague look from the third member of the group... Huh?

"...And my brother and colleague, that astonishing vocalist, Professor Curlique Howard." Aside...
"Bow, you moron..." Slap.

Dignified bow by the Professor...

"Recommended by Greeting, eh? About what I'd expect, actually..."  Sam, fumes.  "That last silver plate he brib...gifted me with was niggardly."

"Oh, but they're sure to teach me...Or, Barker...Your song..."

"I don't know...Say, what is that sound?" Sam looks about as...

Whizzing sound...Slap of pie into Sam's face...

Cough, gurgle...

"My..." Bess stares. "Who threw that pie?"

"Who threw that pie?" Sam wipes pie from face... "My wiggie!" grabs
periwig to examine.

"All right, broad physical comedy is fun...When done to Penn, Batten, or
Minnes...But when a man's wiggie is endangered... Who threw that pie?"

***

"Mr. Hooke, I've got to know...Who threw that pie?"

"Patience, young man... All will be revealed." chuckle.

("Patience, my arse...I'll tell him who..." Sam notes to Bess in hidden corner.  "You have it?"

"Yes...But, Sam...His pies were cream...This is venison." Bess, anxious look.  "And you put your Stone in it."

"Who ruined your new gown, first from the new dress allowance with the last one...?" he eyes her.

"Right..." Bess, taking aim.)