Those in the yard fell silent as a group on horseback clattered under the gate; two richly dressed men and a woman, accompanied by half a dozen mounted retainers. They rode towards an archway leading to an inner courtyard. I saw that the woman bore a strong resemblance to the Queen, and I realized it was Anne Herbert. The man riding beside her, in his forties, black-bearded with a military air, must be Sir William. The other man accompanying them was tall and slim, with a thin, hollow-cheeked face and a short auburn beard. His own resemblance to the Queen allowed me to recognize him as William Parr, Earl of Essex. They looked down at the people in the courtyard with haughty expressions – we had all doffed our caps as they passed. Yet all three were known as radicals, who would certainly fall if the Queen did.

A door in the main courtyard opened and Lord Parr stepped out. He wore his dark silk robe and cap, and his thick gold chain of office. Anne Herbert waved and hailed him from her horse. The little retinue halted as Lord Parr walked slowly over to them. He was leaning on a stick today. His nephew and niece greeted him and they exchanged a few words; I took the opportunity to open my satchel and take out my robe bearing the Queen’s badge. Barak whistled quietly. ‘So you’re sworn to her household now?’

‘Only while this investigation lasts.’

Lord Parr left his relatives, who rode on to the inner courtyard, and approached us.

‘He doesn’t look too well,’ Barak whispered.

‘No. He’s near seventy and feeling the strain of the job, I think.’

‘All over this stolen whatever-it-is,’ Barak replied sceptically. I did not answer. We bowed deeply to Lord Parr.

‘Serjeant Shardlake. You are on time,’ he said approvingly. ‘And this must be Goodman Barak, who knows about keys and locks.’

‘I will assist in any way I can, my Lord.’ Barak knew when to be deferential.

‘Good. The chest is inside. I had it brought across, saying it needed repair. But first, Master Shardlake, a word in confidence.’ He put his arm around my shoulder and led me a little away, leaving Barak looking put out.

‘I heard from William Cecil what happened to the apprentice boy.’ Lord Parr stroked his white beard, looking grave.

‘I thought Cecil might be here today.’

Lord Parr shook his head. ‘The fewer people seen to be making enquiries the better. Officially I am here to dine with my niece and nephew. So, what do you make of the apprentice’s death?’