Tombland

‘I’ve thought about that. I’ll go to Master Reynolds’s house later and say I wish to speak to them. He’ll doubtless say they’ve gone to the cockfight so I’ll say I will try and talk to them later. That will cover us accosting them. When we do we say nothing threatening, but knowing those two, I’d rather we had swords. Just in case. I doubt the discussion will go well.’

Toby smiled wryly. ‘My carrying a weapon could be seen as suspicious; I’m not a gentleman, the sumptuary rules don’t allow me to carry a sword.’

‘You can if you’re my servant and you’re protecting me.’

‘You and Master Nicholas would have to buy it. There’s a shop over there,’ he added, nodding to a small establishment set between the big houses, a display of daggers in the window. ‘Plenty of gentlemen in Tombland.’ I frowned, for I guessed all this had been simply to make a point about his status.

Nicholas and I went into the shop. We explained that I wished to buy a sword for my servant, given the atmosphere in the city just now. We went outside, the weapon in its scabbard banging against my leg. Toby had left.

‘You could have got one for yourself as well,’ Nicholas said.

‘I’d probably just cut your head off, or Toby’s.’

‘Toby’s might be no loss. Cross-grained radical, unfeeling, too, for all his talk of social reform.’

I sighed. ‘It looks like it will be me and Isabella Boleyn alone testifying for her husband on Thursday.’

‘Could we not ask Witherington’s shepherd to testify how difficult it would be for one man to have carried Edith to the water and put her in?’

‘Witherington will probably push him to say nothing that might benefit Boleyn. And having been to the site I can give testimony myself as to how difficult it would be. And now I am going back to the Maid’s Head. I slept badly last night, I need to rest to be of use at all tonight.’

Nicholas looked at me with concern. ‘Sir, do not let this filthy business tire you out.’

I smiled sadly. ‘Yes, this is more than the distraction from routine business we expected, isn’t it? A second person, dead now. And, with all this walking and riding, I feel my age and my poor back, but I shall not give in. I shall go to the coroner’s office this afternoon, chase up what they found when they opened Snockstobe. If he was murdered, that changes things; we might even ask for a postponement of the trial.’ I took a deep breath. ‘And then, tonight, the twins.’

* * *

AS ARRANGED , Nicholas and I called at Gawen Reynolds’s house on the way to the Blue Boar. A female servant answered the courtyard door. We were not invited in, but Gawen Reynolds himself hobbled out on his stick. I said we wished to speak to the twins and that we understood they were out at the cockfighting that evening.

His eyes narrowed. ‘Who told you that?’

‘It’s not a secret, is it?’

‘What d’you want to speak to them about?’ he snapped.

‘Their view of the case.’ I was not going to say anything about the key.

His expression changed, and he gave a nasty grin. ‘Same as mine, that their father killed their mother. Just to let you know, we’ve decided to give evidence against his character, me and Gerald and Barnabas. You’re not talking to them in my house, but if you find them elsewhere, good luck to you. I’ve told them to get back here after the cockfight – we’re going to discuss their evidence tomorrow.’ He smiled at me evilly, then slammed the courtyard door in our faces.

Nicholas looked at me. ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘Another three witnesses against Boleyn.’

‘We’ll interview the twins nonetheless. And we’ve got that old brute’s blessing to talk to them; no one will be able to say we deliberately intimidated them.’

* * *

SIX OF US were due to meet in the garden of the Blue Boar by Bishopsgate Bridge that evening; Nicholas and I, Toby and Barak, and Josephine and Edward Brown. I arrived with Nicholas shortly before nine. Earlier he had been to visit Scambler and his aunt. Both had been terrified at the news of the locksmith’s murder, and Nicholas had little doubt that they would stay indoors until Thursday. Until then, the aunt was going to try and get someone from their church to stay with them. She had blamed her nephew, of course, for the whole situation, shouting and yelling at him.

We found Barak sitting at a candlelit table under a tree, frowning over a letter in the failing light. Nicholas and I had both donned grey woollen doublets so that we would not stand out among the clientele, who again were mostly from the artisan classes. I saw no sign of the boatmen who had attacked Nicholas on our last visit. I glanced at the great gatehouse; Snockstobe had walked under it to his death the night before.

Barak raised his eyebrows. ‘I’ve never seen you wear a sword,’ he said.

‘It’s for Toby Lockswood.’

‘Don’t draw attention to it, we don’t want to be singled out as gentlemen again. Mine’s in my room.’

We put the swords under the table, then Nicholas went in to get some beer. I looked at Barak enquiringly. ‘Who is that from?’ I asked.

‘Tamasin.’

‘Does she say how Guy is?’