Ardengast turned to me. ‘I’ll leave you with Howitson, I’ve got business.’ He walked away, unlocked a door at the far end of the chamber, and passed through. From somewhere beyond I thought I heard a distant scream. I looked through the dark barred windows on the doors of the cells. They seemed empty, but who knew what pitiful souls and broken bodies lay within? I thought of Anne Askew alone and terrified in this place.

Howitson pulled the big ledger over to him. I saw there were two columns. One gave the times that prisoners arrived and left and their names, while the other, smaller column was for the signatures of the officers on duty. The writing was poor, scrawled, and I could not read it upside down. Howitson turned over several pages, pausing occasionally to lick his black-stained thumb. Then he leaned back in his chair.

‘No one here called Cotterstoke, sir. I thought as much.’ He looked up with a satisfied smile.

‘Good,’ I said. ‘I suspected the witness was lying. However, I will have to see the book myself. The rules of court require me to testify to what I have seen personally. Simply to repeat what another has told me would be what is called hearsay, and thus inadmissible.’

Howitson frowned. ‘I don’t know about legal rules. But that book is confidential.’

‘I know. And I will only testify that this particular name is not there, nothing else.’ He still looked doubtful. ‘It is the law,’ I said. ‘Sir Edmund said I could see the book.’

‘We have our own laws down here, sir.’ He smiled a little menacingly, an insolent emphasis on the last word.

‘I understand, goodman. If you like I can ask Sir Edmund to be more specific, in writing, to satisfy you.’

Howitson grunted. ‘All right, but be quick. No lingering over names. We’ve had enough rumours getting out of this place.’

‘I understand.’

He turned the ledger round, going back a couple of pages. I ran my eyes quickly over the entries for late June; I was not interested in those. I noticed, however, that there were always two officers present to sign a prisoner in; one was usually Howitson, the other presumably whichever guard was on duty. From the 28th of June a signature more legible than the others began appearing during the afternoons. Thomas Myldmore. He was on duty when ‘Mistress Anne Kyme’, Anne Askew’s married name, appeared on the record.

Howitson brought his big heavy hand down on the ledger. ‘That’s it, sir,’ he said officiously.

‘Thank you. I have seen all I need.’