The Frost Fair

    'Do you know who I am?' he asked. Maldini nodded. "Then you need to be aware of something else,' said Christopher earnestly. 'My brother is not guilty of this crime and I'll prove it by catching the man who was. You can help me in my search.' Maldini simply glowered at him. 'I've not forgotten what you did to me, Signor Maldini, but that's not important at this moment. You acted the way you did because you loved your brother. That's exactly what I'm doing.'

    'Your brother murdered Jeronimo,' said Maldini, glaring at him.

    "The evidence points that way, I admit, but I had doubts about it at the start. Let me tell you why Did you ever see your brother take part in a fencing bout?'

    'Many times.'

    'He was a fine swordsman, I hear.'

    "There was no better one,' said the other with pride.

    'In other words,' said Christopher, 'he was a man well able to look after himself. My brother was not. On the night when the crime took place, my brother was too drunk even to know where he was going. His only weapon was a dagger. Your brother never went anywhere without his rapier. It was the mark of his trade.'

    'What you trying to tell me?'

    'I want to ask you a simple question. If the two of them met that night, which would have the advantage? A drunken man with a dagger or an unrivalled swordsman?'

    Maldini was confused. 'Your brother stabbed him in the back.'

    'How?' asked Christopher, spreading his arms. 'He'd never get close enough to try. Do you think your brother would be stupid enough to turn his back on someone with whom he'd fallen out? Had they closed with each other, there would have been only one winner and it would not have been Henry.'

    'You make this up to trick me.'

    'Why should I do that? Why should I bother to defend my brother's name if I was not absolutely certain that he was innocent? There's no trick involved, Signor Maldini.' He moved forward to stand over the man. 'Do you think I'd trouble to speak to someone who tried to murder me if I did not believe he could help me? I'm the one with the right to be angry,' he said with studied calmness, 'and you know why. But I put my personal grievances aside for the sake of my brother. Do the same for the sake of yours.'

    Maldini was still suspicious. 'What do you want from me?'

    'A clearer notion of what your brother was like. Everything I've heard about him so far has been coloured by prejudice. Tell me about the real Jeronimo Maldini,' he said. 'I admire anyone who comes to a foreign country and masters its language enough to make a good living here. Both you and your brother did that. Why did you come in the first place? What made you choose England?'

    The prisoner gave a wistful smile. 'We thought we'd have a better life here.'

    'And did you?'

    Pietro Maldini was resentful at first, feeling that he and his brother had been badly let down in their adopted country, talking about some of the slights they had received. But the more he talked, the more relaxed he became. He spoke with great fondness of his brother and revealed many insights into his character. Christopher was struck by the speed with which Jeronimo Maldini had settled into his new home. He pressed for more personal detail.

    'Did he never wish to marry?'

    Maldini shrugged. 'Why tie yourself to one woman when you can please many?'

    'Is that what your brother did?'

    'Jeronimo was a very handsome man. He could take his pick.'

    'I understand that he bought jewellery from a goldsmith called Mr Crenlowe.'

    'That is so.'

    'Was he able to afford the high price that must have been charged?'

    'Of course!' rejoined the other.

    'And did you brother always buy expensive gifts for his ladies?'

    'No,' said Maldini with a half-smile. 'He did not need to. The gift they had was Jeronimo himself. That was enough.'

    'Except in this particular case,' noted Christopher. 'Why was that?'

    'One lady, she was very special to him. He love her dearly.'

    'But not enough to marry her, obviously.'

    'She already had a husband. Most of them did. Jeronimo, he prefer that.'

    'Who was the lady he loved more than the others?' asked Christopher. 'She must have been special to him if he was ready to spend so much money on her. Did he ever tell you her name?'

    'My brother, he would never do that. He protect the lady's reputation. But I did watch him seal a letter to her once,' said Maldini. 'He wrote something on the front of it.'

    'Well?'

    'It was her initial. Her name, I think it begin with 'M".'

     Sir Humphrey Godden had enjoyed his visit to his favourite coffee house. He was among friends and able to relax. There was far less gossip to be heard about the murder of the Italian fencing master and that, too, contented him. It was something that he was trying to put out of his mind for the time being. When he finally came out of the building, he was feeling more cheerful than he had done for a week. Then someone stepped out of a doorway and took him familiarly by the arm. It was the man he had first known as Captain James Harvest.

    'Good day to you, Sir Humphrey!' he said, grinning broadly.

    'What are you doing here?'

    'Waiting for you, of course. When I saw your coach, I knew that you were inside. And I could hardly join you,' he went on, indicating the dark suit that he was wearing, 'in this humble garb.'

    'I've nothing more to say to you,' growled Sir Humphrey. 'I gave you what you wanted so you can now disappear from my life.' 'That's what I'd hoped to do, Sir Humphrey, but a constable has other ideas.'

    'Constable? Are you talking of Mr Bale?'

    'The very same. He's a good huntsman. He found out where I was hiding and lay in wait for me. That will not do, Sir Humphrey I'm too fond of my freedom to risk another meeting with that tenacious fellow.'

    'Why tell me?'

    'Because you are in a position to help me.'

    'You'll get no more money from me,' snarled Sir Humphrey.

    'It's not money that I'm after,' said the other, 'but somewhere to hide. You have that huge house with all those empty rooms in it. Nobody would ever think of looking for me there. It would be so much more comfortable than a tenement in Wapping.' He grinned again. 'What do you say?'

    'No!'

    'Why must you be so inhospitable?'

    'You are not coming anywhere near my home,' said Sir Humphrey 'Find somewhere else to hide or get out of London altogether.'

    'I don't have enough money for that. You were the only person ready to help me. Martin turned me away with a mouthful of abuse. We used to be such friends, all three of us.' He nudged the other man in the ribs. 'Do you remember?'

    'Look,' said Sir Humphrey, trying to sound more reasonable. 'It's not possible.

    'Why not? I stayed there once before - when your wife was away.'

    'That was a long time ago.'

    'I still remember how soft and inviting the bed was,' said the other. 'It will only be for a week or so. The trail will have gone cold by then. Mr Bale will think that I've quit the city and give up.' He gave a knowing leer. 'I think that you owe me a favour. Remember what happened to your wife.'

    'Be quiet, man!'

    'I helped you to resolve the problem regarding Lady Godden.'

    Sir Humphrey shook him. 'I won't tell you again!'

    Their eyes locked and he began to wilt under the other man's gaze. In trusting the former Captain Harvest, he had been unwise and was now suffering the consequences.