'Was he close to Captain Harvest?'
'Not really, Christopher. None of us were. Why do you ask?'
'Because I think that there's some link between them that goes beyond a casual friendship. When the captain wanted to borrow money, the first person he always turned to was Sir Humphrey Godden. What did Sir Humphrey get in return?'
'James could be a very engaging companion.'
'I think that it may go deeper than that. Mr Crenlowe has been fairly helpful but Sir Humphrey has been awkward with both Jonathan and me. Why? He's supposed to be on your side.'
'He is, Christopher. We've been friends for years.'
"There's been precious little evidence of that friendship. He clearly has a short temper. When I called on him earlier, he was having a quarrel with Mr. Crenlowe. I had the feeling that it might be about the so-called Captain Harvest.'
'One way and another, James has caused so much bother.'
. 'It may be a lot more than bother, Henry.'
'What do you mean?'
'Supposing - for the sake of argument - that your fake soldier had a hold over Sir Humphrey. Supposing, for instance, that Sir Humphrey had employed him on a very important assignment.'
'Assignment?'
"The murder of Jeronimo Maldini.'
"That's impossible!'
'Is it? We know that Sir Humphrey loathed the man as much as you.'
'Yes, but James liked him. He and that scheming Italian were friends.'
'No,' corrected his brother. 'Jeronimo Maldini was befriended by someone called Captain James Harvest. So were you and so were many others like you. The captain had a gift for ingratiating himself with people. But we now know that there's no such person as Captain Harvest. Under his real name,' said Christopher, 'he might not have been quite so fond of the fencing master. He could be our killer.'
Lady Whitcombe was too fond of her son to be angry with him for long. When she and her daughter called on him that afternoon, she embraced him warmly and accepted a kiss on both cheeks. Egerton Whitcombe was in a much more pleasant mood. He even bestowed a peck on his sister.
'I'm sorry for what happened yesterday,' he began.
'Let's put that aside, shall we?' said his mother magnanimously. 'You were in an ill humour, Egerton. I choose to forget it.'
'I was simply trying to protect the family name.'
'Nobody does that more assiduously than me.'
They were in the room that he had hired in the tavern in Holborn and he was dressed to go out. While he preened himself in a mirror, Letitia admired his new coat and his shining leather jackboots.
'You look very splendid,' she commented. 'Where are you going, Egerton?'
'To meet some friends.'
'Do we know them?'
'Not yet, Letitia. Some of them are still new to me at the moment.'
'It's important to widen our circle at all times,' said Lady Whitcombe. 'Your father was most insistent about that. To the end of his life, he was meeting new people and forging new alliances. You must do the same, Egerton. Cultivate those who can help you to advance in life.' 'I do, Mother. When I have a house in London, of course, it will be far easier.'
'Work on the foundations could begin in a matter of weeks.'
'Yes,' said her daughter. 'Mother went to see Mr Redmayne about it earlier on.'
Whitcombe frowned. 'Is this true?'
'We had a few matters to discuss, Egerton,' said the older woman. 'And I needed to apologise for the way that you'd conducted yourself at the house. It was unseemly.'
'It was necessary, Mother. Someone needed to put Mr Redmayne in his place.'
'You were there simply to meet him, not to cause him offence.'
'It's that brother of his who is causing the offence,' said Whitcombe. 'One of my friends is a lawyer and he says that there's no way that Henry Redmayne will escape the noose. Do you not see what I am trying to save you from, Mother? You risk employing an architect whose reputation will soon be in tatters.'
'But Mr Redmayne is a genius at what he does,' said Letitia with passion. 'You only have to look at his drawings to see that.'
'I prefer to look at his name, Letitia. That's what everyone else will do.'
'Not everyone,' said Lady Whitcombe. 'Some people are more discerning.'
'When I met him, I discerned a man whose career is about to come to an end. And I cannot find it in my heart to offer him any sympathy,' said Whitcombe, brushing a speck of dust from his sleeve. 'His brother stabbed Jeronimo Maldini in the back. I once went to the Italian for fencing lessons. He was a brilliant teacher.'
'He could not teach you how to get the better of Jack Cardinal,' said Letitia with a giggle. 'You met your match in him.'
'That was a long time ago,' said Whitcombe, caught on the raw. 'Things would be different now. The point is that Signor Maldini was a fine man who provided an excellent service to his school. I introduced Father to him once. He liked the fellow as well.'
'We like Mr Redmayne.'
'Who cares for you opinion, Letitia?'
'I do,' said Lady Whitcombe, 'because I happen to share it.'
Her son was appalled. 'Would you link our family with the name of Redmayne?' 'Yes, Egerton. I believe that I would.' She smiled to herself as she recalled her earlier meeting with Christopher. Her voice then hardened. 'I suggest that you start to get used to the idea.'
Jonathan Bale had just finished talking to the prison sergeant when Christopher caught up with him. Turnkeys were standing in readiness as a new prisoner was being delivered to Newgate. The two friends stepped aside so that they could have a private conversation.
'I cannot thank you enough,' said Christopher, shaking his hand. 'Henry told me what happened. He's indebted to you, Jonathan.'
'I was only too pleased to help.'
'That man should never have been allowed near my brother.'
'I've just been saying the same thing to the prison sergeant,' explained the other. 'Isaac admits that they made a gross mistake. The man seemed harmless and he offered a tempting bribe. Nobody guessed that he might be Signor Maldini's brother. When he let him into the cell, the turnkey thought he had no weapon on him, but a length of cord was concealed about his person somewhere.'
'Henry was caught off guard or he'd have put up more of a fight.'
'He's still alive, Mr Redmayne, that's the main thing.'
'Yes. Where's his attacker now?'
'Safely locked up.'
'I want to see him,' said Christopher.
'There's no point, sir.'
'Yes, there is. He's the man who pushed me into the Thames then attempted to kill me on my own doorstep. I'd like to take a good look at Pietro Maldini.'
'Then I'd advise you to do it later,' said Jonathan. 'He's in a very excited state at the moment. Only a desperate man would try to commit murder inside a prison. It's a form of suicide.' Christopher winced at the mention of the word. 'Give him time to calm down. We can speak to him then. His testimony could turn out to be very valuable.'
'Why?'
'He can tell us about his brother, Mr Redmayne. Everything we've heard about the murder victim has come from people he taught at his school. They only saw one side of the man. Pietro Maldini will be able to tell us about the other sides.'
'That's very true, Jonathan.' 'Leave him here awhile. He's not going anywhere.'
They were let out of the prison and stood together in the swirling wind. Both men had to hold on to their hats to stop them from blowing away. Christopher told his friend about his second visit to Sir Humphrey Godden. The constable was intrigued.