Heartstone

Carver stood and bowed. 'Take care of yourself, sir.' He shook his head. 'These times—'

* * *

NEXT MORNING I walked to work slowly and painfully, for my neck and throat still hurt. As I crossed Gatehouse Court I nodded to a couple of acquaintances, who fortunately were at a sufficient distance not to see the raw bruised flesh above my collar.

I entered chambers and sat behind my desk. By the chapel clock it was just after nine. Barak was due shortly, and Mistress Calfhill in half an hour. I undid my shirt collar, to ease the chafing of my bruises.

From my window I saw Barak striding across Gatehouse Court. I thought again how he was putting on weight. He knocked at my door and entered, then stared at my neck. 'God's nails! What happened to you?'

I told him in my still creaky voice. 'It's worse than it looks,' I concluded.

'Jesus. Who were they? Those lads hanging around outside Michael's house?'

'I didn't see. They made sure of that, jumping me from behind.'

'Is this Hobbey's work?'

'I don't know. Someone must have paid them well. Though there was little enough risk, there's no law left on the streets.'

Barak said, 'I wonder if Hobbey is in London.'

'If he isn't he has had no time to organize this. I only went on the court record two days ago.'

'What about Dyrick? He'll have been notified you're acting.'

'I doubt a barrister would risk his career by getting involved in something like this. Though it's not impossible.'

'When would he have got the papers saying you were on the record?'

I considered. 'Yesterday morning, I would guess. Whoever it was, they organized it fast.'

Barak looked at me keenly. 'Do you think the little arseholes meant to kill you?'

'They weren't so little. But no, I doubt it. Just to scare me off.'

'I still think someone could have killed Michael Calfhill.' Barak fixed me with his brown eyes. 'You shouldn't go to Portsmouth,' he said intently. 'Certainly not alone.'

'I agree. I have decided to talk to the Queen. I sent a message to Warner yesterday evening. She will find someone to travel with me if she thinks I should go.'

'So you'll still go if she wants you to.'

'I don't like a bunch of bluecoats trying to intimidate me.'

'Mistress Calfhill is due soon. Will you tell her what happened to you?'

'No. It would only frighten her without good cause. I'll see her, then I'll go down to the Temple and see Brother Dyrick. I sent a message last night.'

Barak slapped his knapsack. 'I've Broughton's deposition here.'

'Good.' I looked at him. 'But there is something else I must tell you now. Alderman Carver came to see me last night. I'm afraid it is not good news.' I repeated what Carver had told me.

'Shit,' he said fiercely. 'Tammy's right, I should have treated Goodryke with more care.'

'Why don't I come to your house later, and the three of us can talk about it?'

'I won't have Tammy leaving London, travelling over muddy roads,' he said firmly. 'I was scared shitless when she collapsed the other day.'

'I know. But we'll find some way through. I promise. Now, let me see Reverend Broughton's deposition.'

Barak opened his satchel and passed me the paper, written in his scratchy copyhand and signed by Broughton. He sat frowning, preoccupied, as I read. Broughton reiterated what he had told us about the Curteys family, the parents' death and Nicholas Hobbey's rapid intervention, his own and Michael's efforts on behalf of Hugh and Emma, and Hobbey's hostility to him. I looked at Barak. 'Nothing new, then?'

'No. He says that's all he remembers. I asked him if any of the Curteyses' neighbours could tell me anything, but he was sure not. The family do seem to have kept to themselves, as the godly folk will.'

I looked up as a shadow passed the window: Bess Calfhill, her face pale as parchment in the sunshine, paler even than her white coif. She wore a black dress again, though the mourning period was long past. 'Go and receive her,' I said to Barak, 'tell her my neck's been hurt in an attempted robbery. Gently. Someone with a bruised neck's the last thing she'll want to see.'

He went out, and I pulled the strings on my shirt tight again before taking the draft deposition I had prepared for Bess from my desk. Barak led her in, and she sat on the other side of my desk. She looked at my neck, shuddered slightly and dropped her gaze, twisting her hands in her lap. Then she looked up, her face determinedly composed.

'Thank you for coming, Bess.' I made my voice as strong as I could.

'It is for Michael, sir.'

'I have prepared a deposition based on what you told me at Hampton Court. If I may, I will read it over. We can make any necessary corrections, see if there is anything to add.'

'I am ready,' she said quietly.

We went through her story again. Bess nodded vigorously when I read out how close Michael and the two children had been, and said 'Yes' with quiet fierceness as I related Michael's attempt to resist Hobbey's taking over their affairs. At the end she nodded firmly. 'That is it, sir, that is the story. Thank you. I could never have formed the words so well.'

I smiled. 'I have training, Bess. But please remember that Michael's story, told to you, is hearsay. Hearsay is allowed in the case of a deceased person, but it does not have the status of first-hand testimony. And Master Hobbey's barrister may question you on it.'

'I understand,' she said firmly. 'Will Nicholas Hobbey be there?'

'I do not know.'

'I am ready to face them both.'

'We have spoken to Vicar Broughton, who has been helpful. He is coming on Monday. But he can confirm only that he and Michael tried to stop the wardship. Is there anything else you can think of that I have not included? About the children, perhaps.'

She shook her head sadly. 'Only little bits and pieces.'

'They would have been brought up by the women of the household till they were old enough for a tutor, I imagine.'

'Yes. Though John and Ruth Curteys delayed past the normal age to get a tutor. Michael thought they loved their children so much they did not wish to share them.'

'Did you meet Hugh and Emma?'

'Yes. Once Michael brought them to visit me and I went to him at the Curteyses' house and saw them many times. Master and Mistress Curteys were most civil to me, as though I were a gentlewoman. I remember Hugh and Emma coming up to Michael's room to meet me. They were laughing because Hugh had got nits from somewhere and had his hair cut close. His sister laughed at his shaven poll, saying he looked like a little old man. I told Emma tush, she should not mock her brother, but Hugh laughed and said if he were a man then he was strong enough to smack his insolent sister. Then he chased her round the room, both of them shrieking and laughing.' She shook her head. 'I can see them now, that poor dead girl's hair flying out behind her, Michael and I joining in their laughter.'

'Mistress,' I asked quietly, 'why do you think Michael left home towards the end?'

'I think it was because—' her lips worked suddenly—'because I fuss so.' She bowed her head, then said, 'Michael was all I had. His father died when he was three, and I brought him up alone. At Lord and Lady Latimer's house in Charterhouse Square. Lady Latimer, as she was then, took great interest in my son, who was fond of learning like her, and encouraged him. She too knows what a kind-hearted boy he was. Too kind-hearted, perhaps.'

'Well,' I said, 'let us see if we can get his kindness rewarded in court on Monday.' I exchanged glances with Barak. We both knew that if the case were allowed to go forward, it would be because of the Queen's involvement, not the merits of the evidence.

* * *

A LITTLE LATER I walked again down Middle Temple Lane, my knapsack over my shoulder. I turned left, to the Temple church. Dyrick's chambers lay opposite, in an ancient building of heavy stone. A clerk told me he was on the third floor, and I trudged wearily up a wide staircase of heavy oak boards. I had to pause halfway up, for my neck was throbbing. I grasped the banister and continued. On the third-floor landing a board outside a door had Dyrick's name picked out in elegant letters. I knocked and went in.