Tombland

Gerald laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. ‘There’s nothing for you there, crookback. We were at the cockfight, with half a dozen friends, then went drinking at the White Lion Inn afterwards. You want names? John Atkinson, servant to Sir Richard Southwell. William Bailey and Michael Hare, also his servants. Edward White, son of Sir George White. We got pissed and all went back to John’s to sleep it off. We had a fight with some turd who tried to get ahead of us at the bar. I hit him over the head with a chair. Knocked him out. The barman will remember, won’t he, Barney?’

‘Ay.’ Barnabas grinned: the boys were getting some of their confidence back.

I said, ‘I met the boy you hit with an axe at Brikewell. His wits are gone.’

‘We know,’ Gerald answered coolly. ‘We’ve seen him, slobbering about the lanes. He shouldn’t have come on our land, should he, Barney?’

‘No. He’s just a serf, anyway.’

‘An assault like that could have you hanged.’

‘Bogles to frighten children,’ Gerald answered contemptuously. ‘Witherington hasn’t made a fuss because he knows his trespassing would be brought up. So there you are, you cunts, you won’t get us on that one.’ His mean little eyes narrowed. ‘Who are you working for, anyway? Who’s set you on us?’

‘Lockswood works for Copuldyke, Gerry,’ Barnabas said. ‘That means the Lady Elizabeth. Thomas Seymour’s little whore. She’s out to save our father because of the family name.’

I said, ‘Don’t forget that if your father hangs his lands go to the Crown.’

‘We’ll get them back,’ Gerald said. ‘Appeal to the Protector, get our own lawyers. With father’s debts, that great barn in London will probably have to go, but we’ll get Brikewell. Get the tenants off, turn it over to sheep, and sell it.’

‘You won’t be able to buy or sell anything. You’ll be wards of court, in the power of the Lady Mary and Sir Richard Southwell.’

‘Granfer will sort him out,’ Barnabas answered. ‘He’ll buy the wardship.’ For the first time, I heard a note of uncertainty in his voice. Gerald caught it and gave him a warning look. I began to realize that Gerald was the leader of the pair.

‘Do you feel no sorrow at the prospect that your father will hang?’ Nicholas asked, puzzlement in his voice.

‘No,’ Gerald replied. ‘He’s a weakling, a lewdster, it’s because of his screwing Isabella that mother left. Let the fucker hang.’ His voice rose and I heard a new note in it, something strange, and slightly mad.

I said, ‘One more question, then we’re finished.’

‘Provided you continue to be good boys,’ Barak added. Gerald clenched his fists, and for a moment I thought he was going to try to throw Barak off, but Barak drew his knife tighter at the boy’s throat again.

‘I want to know about the key you stole from Simon Scambler,’ I said quietly. ‘A few days before your mother was killed.’

The twins looked at each other. ‘By Mary Magdalen’s wet fanny,’ Barnabas said. ‘They have been digging, haven’t they?’

Gerald said, ‘That little freak Sooty’s been talking. They think we put Snockstobe in the river.’ And then the brothers laughed. They had been worried when first they had realized we knew about the key, but seemed not to be now.

Toby moved his sword, pointing it straight into Barnabas’s gut. ‘You waylaid Scambler, beat him up. The key to Midnight’s stable disappeared, but Scambler returned the next day and found the key in a place he had searched the day before.’

‘I’ve fucking had enough of this,’ Gerald said.

Barnabas, though, smiled. If Gerald was the leader, Barnabas was the more fluent. ‘You want the story, crookback. Here it is. We decided Sooty needed a beating. He was getting above his station, singing away to himself while he worked – I’m surprised the horse put up with the noise – so we caught him on the Wymondham Road and taught him some manners. Took that key as well. You see’ – his smile was a cruel slash in his disfigured face – ‘we thought it would be fun to let that mad horse out in the yard, set the servants running; then Father would sack Sooty and we wouldn’t have to see his crazy face around the place again.’

‘But you didn’t do that.’

‘No. We went into Norwich that evening, it was another cockfight night, and stayed over with granfer. We told him about our plan, we thought he’d see the joke, but he said Scambler would tell Father we’d set on him, and have the bruises to prove it. He didn’t want Father to throw us out, he wanted us to keep an eye on the place.’

‘So he persuaded us to put the key back in the road the next morning,’ Gerald added. ‘Pity, we’d told all our friends at the cockpit about the joke the night before. The inn was packed that evening, some champion cocks were fighting.’

The boys’ tone had changed. They had been able to answer everything, and were now cocky, confident. ‘Was the key ever out of your possession?’ I asked.

‘No,’ Gerald said, ‘I had it in my purse.’