‘But he treats you well enough?’

‘Yes, sir,’ she answered hesitantly. ‘Well enough.’

I pressed her, gently. ‘Josephine, I have sensed an – unease – between you and Martin.’

She put the cloth down on the table. Then she took a deep breath and lifted her head. ‘I have been meaning to speak to you, sir, yet I did not know if it was right – and Agnes Brocket has been so good to me – ’

‘Tell me, Josephine.’

She looked at me directly. ‘Two months ago, I went into your study one day to dust, and found Martin Brocket going through the drawers of your desk. Agnes was out, perhaps he thought he was alone in the house. I know you keep your money in a locked drawer there, sir.’

I did, and my most important papers, too. Martin had keys to most places in the house, but not to that drawer, nor the chest in my bedroom where I kept my personal items. ‘Go on,’ I said.

‘He snapped at me to get out, said that he was looking for something for you. But Master Shardlake, he had the look of one uncovered in wrongdoing. I have been battling with my conscience ever since.’

I thought, thank heaven there was nothing in writing about the Lamentation; even the notes I had made in the garden I had destroyed. And, besides, two months ago it had not even been taken. But the news sent a chill down my spine, all the same. And how many times had Martin nosed around without Josephine seeing?

I said, ‘I have never sent Martin to fetch anything from my desk. Thank you, Josephine, for telling me this. If you see him doing something like that again, come to me.’

I had missed no money. But if not money, what had Brocket been looking for? ‘You did right to tell me, Josephine. For now, let us keep it a secret.’ I smiled uneasily. ‘But remember, tell me if anything like this occurs again.’

‘I did not like him from the start, sir, though Agnes has been such a friend, as I have said. Sometimes he speaks roughly to her.’

‘Sadly husbands occasionally do.’

‘And he was always asking about you when he first came, last winter. Who your friends were, your habits, your clients.’

‘Well, a steward needs to find such things out.’ It was true, but I felt uncomfortable nonetheless.

‘Yes, sir, and it was only at first. Yet there has always been something about him I did not trust.’

‘Perhaps because he speaks roughly to Agnes, whom you like?’

Josephine shook her head. ‘No, it is something more, though I am not sure what.’

I nodded. I felt the same.

She said, hesitant again, ‘Sir, perhaps I should not ask – ’

‘Go on– ’

‘If I might say, this last week you have seemed – preoccupied, worried. Have you some trouble, sir?’

I was touched. ‘Merely work worries, Josephine. But thank you for your concern.’