Andrew continued to smile. ‘On the contrary, Harold. The young woman has every right to be present and I hope she finds my story of interest. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Your brother’s death. I am not entirely sure who killed him, but I know exactly on whose orders it was done. The good sheriff, however, having no idea of the true circumstances of your family’s business, promptly arrested the easiest target. This, of course, was Borin Blessop, a heavy-handed henchman your brother occasionally employed to frighten his debtors and enemies.’ At this point Tyballis gulped, and Mister Cobham rested one hand firmly on her shoulder. ‘There was a problem, however,’ Andrew went on. ‘Mister Blessop not only loudly proclaimed his innocence and chose to point the finger at your good self as the more likely perpetrator, but he also appeared to have someone secretly working in the background to prove he could not have committed the crime. Myself, in fact.’ Tyballis stirred again, and Andrew placed his other hand on her other shoulder with the gentle pressure of reassurance. ‘At this point,’ he continued, ‘both you and the gentleman who ordered your brother’s death became uneasy. He decided a new culprit, more easily cowed, should be named. He sent men to speak both with the innocent prisoner in Newgate, and that prisoner’s mother. It was decided between them to implicate this fool’s estranged wife instead. You, of course, my friend, had already taken over both the noble title and the less noble family business. You immediately saw the advantages of accusing this new suspect – and perhaps someone quietly suggested, with additional threats, that you go along with the story. Therefore Mistress Blessop, helpless beneath a canopy of lies, was taken by the law and promptly incarcerated without possibility of legal assistance or any other form of exoneration. At the same time Borin Blessop was released from Newgate, and was warned to keep his mouth shut and ensure his freedom by keeping to the lies regarding his wife.’
The baron was stuttering wildly. ‘You assume too much, my lord. Some of this – well, you know it to be true. But this other business – it is all guesses, sir, and I swear I have no idea.’
‘Don’t make me angry, Harold,” Andrew answered. ‘You should know I never speak without conviction. Nor do I make – guesses. Perhaps it is now the relevant moment for you to make the acquaintance of my companion. Let me introduce Mistress Tyballis Blessop.’
The baron’s expression turned so violent that Tyballis clung to the edge of her seat. Andrew Cobham kept his hands hard on her shoulders. ‘This – this trollop?’ Throckmorton spat. ‘And you’ve disguised the wench in finery to trick me. Had I known, sir, I would not have allowed her to enter, nor to sit in my presence, and never to overhear the details of my private life.’
‘Your bluster is quite unnecessary, Harold,’ replied Andrew, ‘since you would have done as I instructed, as usual. Mistress Blessop is my companion, and as such demands your civility and respect. Having become the victim of your self-serving manipulations, she is perfectly entitled to hear the truth regarding her situation, and will therefore be in a better position to protect herself should you have any further unpleasant intentions. In the meantime, I have something more to say.’
Throckmorton retreated behind the long dining table. ‘I won’t listen. I’ve no more interest, sir,’ he mumbled. ‘I’ve told you I should have your money by next month. Perhaps next week. And I swear I’ll do no more business with – the gentlemen you refer to. I see no reason to prolong this interview.’
‘But I do, Harold,’ Andrew said calmly. ‘So you will come back over here, and take your hand away from the knife you’re now trying to extricate from its hiding place beneath the table. I know perfectly well why and where you keep some defence at hand. Now, come here.’
Once again coming to face his unwanted visitors, the baron refused to look at Tyballis, but raised his palms. ‘No sword, no knife,’ he said plaintively. ‘You misjudge me, my lord, as so often.’
‘I rarely misjudge anyone, Harold, and certainly no one as manifestly inconsequential as yourself.’ Andrew still spoke softly, barely changing position, while the baron fidgeted and twitched, moving uncomfortably from one foot to the other. ‘In the meantime,’ Andrew continued, ‘you will do nothing – I repeat, nothing – to further the accusation against Mistress Blessop regarding your brother’s death. Do I make myself absolutely clear? Instead, you will visit the good sheriff, and admit you were mistaken concerning the theft of poor Thomas’s cloak. You will say it has been found amongst your brother’s possessions, safe, dry and without stains of blood or anything else. You will shake your head sadly, and express the opinion that Mistress Blessop’s incarceration was clearly a mistake.’
‘And if the authorities decide to investigate me for the murder instead?’
‘It would be unfortunate for you, of course,’ said Andrew patiently. ‘But unlikely, under the circumstances. Having arrested both the Blessops, then released them and subsequently been made to look foolish, the sheriff will be wary of making further blunders, especially against a peer of the realm, whatever the reputation of that peer may be. I fear you will be safe to continue with your – delightful business, Harold.’
‘I trust so.’ Throckmorton bowed low with a sarcastic smile. ‘Until next month then, sir.’
Andrew Cobham raised a finger. ‘Just one thing more, Harold. As for the money, I will agree to accept the next instalment rather later than usual, for reasons we now both understand. So I will return next month. However, I have reason to believe you expect considerable sums from the gentleman to whom your brother sold the poison before his death. You are wrong. This man’s promises were to ensure your silence. But now that Mistress Blessop is free and no longer a useful scapegoat, he will not be pleased. I think you should watch your back, Harold. And my advice is to contact the Medici bank as soon as possible. A lengthy visit to Florence might even be wise, don’t you think?’
‘I can’t pay you from Italy.’ His lordship looked sullen. ‘Aren’t you afraid to lose your own income, my lord?’
‘Have you ever watched the effects of arsenic?’ Andrew said. ‘The pain, and the gradual degeneration of the system, is excruciating. Have you ever truly considered the business you are in, sir? Arsenic is a slow agony. It eats away the tongue and the mouth, leading to convulsions and the collapse of the lungs, the stomach and the bowels. There is no way back once taken, and for many terrible hours in constant terror and pain, wallowing in a bed fouled with shit and vomit, the victim faces his inevitable death. How many have known such an ending because of you?’
Throckmorton shuddered, looking away. ‘Yet you take a slice of my profits, my lord, and kindly permit me to stay in the business you so dislike.’
‘The miserable penance you pay,’ Andrew said softly, ‘is little enough in the cause of justice, I think. As for leaving you in business: better the man I know and can control than a new merchant unknown to me. After all, there is always someone to fill a space left open in the popular commerce of our times.’
‘Control? You don’t control me, sir.’
‘You had better make sure that I do,’ Andrew said. ‘Your life is already at risk. I can increase those risks if I wish. But I am not your principal threat, as you should already be aware. It is Lord Marrott who now holds your life in his hands.’ He bowed slightly and began walking towards the door, leading Tyballis with him. ‘Remember my words, Throckmorton. I shall come again next month, and I shall expect full payment of the money you owe – or news that you have sailed for Italy.’
Tyballis kept her nose in the air until they had left the house but once outside, she grabbed her companion’s hand and hopped enthusiastically around to face him. ‘That was – amazing,’ she said, breathless. ‘You are the most incredible man. And he – that miserable wretch – told lies and got me arrested? I would have liked to kill him myself.’