“Mr. James Franklin … You deny knowing him?” Reluctantly I pulled my gaze back to my inquisitor.

“Franklin is among my acquaintance,” I said. “I sent him on occasion to see how Weston did.”

“Why had you concern for him? Was it not rather news of Sir Thomas Overbury’s health you sought?”

“I had very slight acquaintance with Sir Thomas Overbury and would not seek knowledge of him; Weston I have known for many years.”

“Are you familiar with the law as it concerns murder? Only by admission of guilt before trial can the King grant clemency.”

“Poor widows are rarely the beneficiaries of clemency, from any source.”

“You speak boldly for a woman.”

“I speak only the truth, my lord.”

“Come, Mistress Turner, your guilt is clear, but that of much greater personages even more so. If you were led into crime by them, clemency is possible.”

I have never liked people who do not take me seriously; there is no clemency for widows who abet murder. Coke let out a long sigh worthy of the stage, and from the corner of my eye I saw him nod to the alderman who banged on the door. After a few moments, it was opened from without. Into the room, shoved by an unseen hand, stumbled Weston, his face bruised and swollen. He regained his balance with difficulty since his hands were tied.

“Weston!” I cried, moving toward him.

“Be still and silent,” said Coke, extending an imperious finger. I stopped. Weston was bowed, beaten, his clothes, hair and beard filthy. No one offered him a stool and he did not look up.

“Speak,” ordered Coke.

Weston slumped further.

“Mistress Turner paid me monies to give a clear liquid to Sir Thomas Overbury.” His voice was a dry recital. “She was following orders from the Countess of Somerset. This liquid was poison.”

I could not stop myself. I rounded on Lord Coke. “You have beaten him about the head! You have tortured an old man. Look at him! What evil is this?”

“Mistress Turner, your feigned concern for an ancient retainer does not convince me. You are held here as an accessory to murder. I believe that you acquired and gave poison to Richard Weston with the express purpose of murdering Sir Thomas Overbury, foe to your friend the Countess of Somerset. The sentence for those found guilty but who plead innocence is always death. In this case, Mistress Turner, given the import of these matters and the seeming complicity of personages close to the royal presence, tell us the part played by the Earl and Countess of Somerset and your willing repentance will be noted when punishment is decided.”

Without thinking, I put a hand to the small hat on my head, perhaps because I could not believe that anything would stay put in this gale of accusation.