Heartstone

'So it was suicide, after all,' I said.

'What the hell else did you think it was?' Dyrick burst out.

'You went and threatened him.' I looked at Dyrick with disgust. 'You drove that young man, who had only ever sought to help both children, to his grave.'

'I did not know he was that weak,' Dyrick said defiantly.

'You dirty shit,' Barak said.

I stared at Dyrick. 'Someone attacked me in London and warned me off the case. Was that you as well?'

Dyrick and Hobbey stared at each other, then at me. Dyrick said, 'That was nothing to do with us.'

I frowned, thinking. 'So Michael screwed up the courage to make the complaint at the Court of Wards. But then he became terrified of what you would say and killed himself. How he must have struggled with his conscience. Perhaps he hoped his mother would take up the case, maybe bring it to the Queen, who had been kind to him.'

'Conscience,' Hobbey said with infinite sadness. 'I had one once. Ambition killed it. And afterwards—you know in your heart the wrong you have done, but—you stifle it. You have to. You continue to act your part. But Michael's death has haunted me.' Tears began coursing down his thin grey cheeks. 'And poor Abigail. Oh, if only we could have seen where this imposture would lead. And it destroyed my poor son's mind.' He put his head in his hands and began weeping uncontrollably. Dyrick stirred restlessly. Fulstowe gave his employer a look of contempt.

After a minute, Hobbey wiped his face then looked at me wearily. 'What will you do now, sir, about David? Will you reveal he killed his mother?'

'Shouldn't he?' Barak asked brutally.

'My son's mind was disturbed,' Hobbey said desperately. 'It was my fault.' He looked at me, his face suddenly animated. 'If I could, I would sell Hoyland, leave the villagers alone, and go somewhere where I could spend the rest of my life looking after my son, trying—trying to heal him. Though I think he would not be sorry to die now.'

'Nicholas,' Dyrick said, 'Hoyland has been your life—'

'That is over, Vincent.' Hobbey looked at his servant. 'And you, Fulstowe, that we took into our confidence, you used that to build up power over this family. You used us, you felt nothing for any of us. I have known that for a long time. You can go, now. At once.'

Fulstowe looked at him in disbelief. 'You can't dismiss me. Listen, were it not for me—'

'I can,' Hobbey cut in, a touch of the old authority in his voice. 'Get out, now.'

Fulstowe turned to Dyrick. But his confederate in the plan to destroy the village only jerked his head sharply at the door, saying, 'Tell no one about Emma, ever. You are as implicated as your master.'

'After everything I have done for you—' Fulstowe looked at Hobbey and Dyrick again, then walked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

I looked at Dyrick. 'Ettis has to be freed,' I said. 'You and Fulstowe would have let him die to further your schemes.'

'Don't be stupid,' Dyrick snapped back. 'He would never have been found guilty. But with him in prison the villagers would have been more reasonable.'

'Master Shardlake,' Hobbey said, 'I want no charges brought against Emma. If only she could be brought back—'

'I fear she may have gone to Portsmouth to enlist. She may look for my friend George Leacon's company. They saw what a good archer she is.'

'Could you—might you find her?'

I sat back, considering. David and Emma. Both their fates were in my hands now.

Barak said, 'She nearly killed us. Let them both be exposed for what they did.'

I looked at Hobbey. 'I have two more questions. First, am I right that Sir Quintin Priddis knew Hugh was really Emma?'

'Nicholas,' Dyrick expostulated, 'don't answer. We may need Priddis—'

Hobbey ignored him. 'Yes. He knew.'

'From the beginning?'

'No, but he visited this house once, to bargain for his share when I began cutting Emma's woodlands. Sir Quintin is very observant, looking at her he realized the deception. The only one that ever has, save you and Feaveryear. He agreed to keep quiet in return for a larger cut.'

'And his son?'

'I think not. Sir Quintin is a man who even now likes his power, and secrets are power. Other people's, that is; your own are a curse.'

I took a deep breath, then asked, 'And Sir Richard Rich? What is his involvement in all this?'

A look of genuine puzzlement crossed Hobbey's face. 'Rich? The royal counsellor? I have never met him. I saw him for the first time when he came up to you at the Guildhall.'

'Are you sure, Master Hobbey?'

He spread his hands. 'Why would I keep anything back now?'

Dyrick too was staring at me in surprise. I realized neither of them had any idea what I was talking about. But then why had Rich been so agitated in Portsmouth? Why had he, as I increasingly believed, set those corner boys on me in London and killed the clerk Mylling? I thought hard, and then I understood. Again I had jumped to a wrong conclusion.

* * *

AND NOW I had to decide what to do. I looked at Hobbey's desperate face, Barak's angry one, then at Dyrick, who had begun to look uneasy and frightened. If it became known he had helped to conceal Emma's true identity there would be serious professional consequences for him. I could never trust Dyrick, but for now he was in my power. I said, 'This is what I am prepared to do. If Ettis is freed I will say nothing about David killing his mother.'

Barak sat up. 'You can't! He murdered her! What else might he do? And you can believe they're not involved with Rich—'

'They're not. They never were. I think I see what happened now. But tell me, Jack, do you think David was of sound mind when he killed Abigail? Do you think his being put on trial and either certified as mad or hanged will do anyone any good? Who will it benefit?'

'He may shoot someone else.'

'That he never will,' Hobbey said. 'He may never even walk properly again. And I told you, from now on I will watch after him day and night—'

I raised a hand. 'I have three conditions, Master Hobbey.'

'Anything—'

'First, you will ensure—I care not how—that Ettis is released. If he has to stand trial for murder in due course, very well, so long as I am there to ensure that justice takes its course and he is found innocent. And I want to let him know now, in confidence, that that will be the outcome.'

Hobbey looked at Dyrick. 'We can arrange that, Vincent, I am sure. Sir Luke—'

Dyrick said, 'What are your other conditions?'

'The second, Master Hobbey, is that you do as you said, sell Hoyland—having confirmed the villagers' title to the woodland—and take David to a place where you can keep him safe and watched.'

'Yes,' he answered at once. 'Yes.'

Barak looked at me and shook his head. And though I doubted David would be a danger to anyone again, I knew I was taking a risk. But I believed Hobbey would do as he promised.

'My last condition concerns Emma. I will ride back to Portsmouth, and if I find her there and trying to join the army I will get her out.'

'No—' Barak started.

'He'd need to expose her as a girl,' Dyrick said. 'Nicholas, if he does that we could be done for after all. If she gets a lift on a supply cart she could be there already.'

'If she has joined my friend's company, or another, I do not need to tell them the whole story. Merely that a patriotic girl is impersonating a boy.'

'I agree,' Hobbey said. 'I agree to everything.'

'But I will not bring Emma back here. I will take her to London. And you, Master Hobbey, will sell Hugh's wardship to me, as wardships are constantly bought and sold. Though, of course, the transaction will only be a paper one, I will give you no money. Master Dyrick here will organize it.'