Tombland

‘And you, Daniel. We are here to help if we can.’ Toby turned to me. ‘This is Master Boleyn’s steward, Daniel Chawry.’

The steward bowed to each of us in turn. ‘I fear when you have dismounted I must ask you to help me take the horses to the stables. There are no other male servants now.’

‘Is it just Mistress Isabella at home?’ I had feared the twins might have returned, but Chawry answered, ‘Just her, her maid and me. The other servants left when the master was taken away.’

I nodded sympathetically. Association with scandal, particularly something as horrible as this, often drove servants to leave a house. We dismounted, a twinge below my shoulder blade reminding me my back had not quite settled down. Chawry led us round the side of the house to a stable block. There was a smaller, separate stable beside it, and as we passed it we heard a loud neighing and the crash of hooves. Barak asked, ‘Is that the fabled Midnight?’

‘It is. The only horse left apart from the mistress’s. Thank God his stable is built of strong oak and he’s well penned in; I throw his food over the top of his stall. I haven’t dared go in there to muck it out.’

I passed the reins of my horse to Barak and walked across to the little stable. So this was where the boots and hammer were found. I glanced at the door; it was firmly chained and padlocked and I saw that it was flush with the wall at the top, and with the step at the bottom. Nobody could have flung the hammer and boots in there from outside. I walked round the building. There was a shuttered window at the rear; I pulled at it; it was locked from inside. My action set off another round of frantic neighing and kicking from within. I returned to the front of the building. There was a small gap of a quarter inch or so between two boards and I peered inside. It was almost totally dark, but as my eyes adjusted I caught a glimpse of the whites of the rolling eyes of a horse. I stepped away. ‘Is it not cruel to keep the horse in darkness?’ I asked Chawry.

‘That window’s bolted from the inside. To get to it you’d have to go past Midnight’s stall, and that’s within kicking range. But I have the key since Master Boleyn was taken away; I can let you in if you like,’ he added, a little insolently.

‘I think not,’ I said dryly.

‘Master Boleyn is very keen to sell Midnight as soon as possible for some reason; he has asked me, through Isabella, to arrange it. It is not proving easy.’

We tied up our horses in the other stable, then Chawry led us into the house, asking us to wait in the hallway while he went to find his mistress. It was a pleasant place, finely furnished, an expensive tapestry of an idealized rural scene, all nymphs and shepherds, dominating the hallway. I noticed, though, balls of dust in the corners.

Chawry returned and told us Mistress Boleyn would receive us. I noticed he used the name she was not strictly entitled to now. I signed to Barak and Toby to wait – I did not want to overwhelm the woman – and Nicholas and I followed the steward into a parlour, well furnished but with the same slightly neglected air as the rest of the house. An unusually pretty, buxom woman in her early thirties, with blonde hair under a sober black hood, stood with her hands clasped in front of her. We bowed, and I introduced myself and Nicholas.

‘Master Copuldyke has asked you to help my husband?’ Her voice had a strong Norfolk accent.

‘He wishes me to investigate the whole case thoroughly, to see whether new light can be cast on the murder.’

‘God bless her grace the Lady Elizabeth,’ Isabella said feelingly. ‘But there is so little time now. Only six days –’

‘I know. I visited your husband in Norwich Castle yesterday; he asked me to send you his love, and thank you for the food you have provided him with.’

‘I have some more. Could you take it back with you today? Otherwise he’ll have no vittles to chaw, the prison provides nothing.’

‘Most certainly.’

She raised a hand to brush away a strand of blonde hair. ‘Since our cook left I have done nothing but prepare dishes for John. ’Tis as well I have experience from when I worked at the inn.’ She fixed me with her large, dark blue eyes. ‘You will know my former work. John’s neighbours have despised him since he brought me to the house. Do you despise me, sir, for what I was, and for living in sin for years?’

This was remarkably direct, but also very brave. ‘Certainly not. I will do anything within my power to help you.’

‘And I,’ Nicholas added. He looked at Isabella, obviously appreciative of her unusual beauty. I said, ‘May we sit down, and ask some questions? Master Nicholas will make notes.’ I added, ‘They will inevitably be personal ones.’