Ethelreda returned with the pudding, and we discussed politics no more. Master Coleswyn asked where I was from – he could not place my accent – and I told him about Lichfield: amusing stories of the poor monks’ school where I received my early education. It grew dark and candles were lit in the sconces. Towards nine I became tired, suddenly finding it hard to keep my eyes open, and excused myself. Coleswyn showed me to the door. In the porch he shook my hand. ‘Thank you for coming, Master Shardlake. Forgive my wife’s anxiety, but the times – ’

I smiled. ‘I know.’

‘Thank you for listening to us. I think in truth you are a godly man.’

‘Many would disagree.’

‘Study the Bible, pray.’ He looked earnestly at me. ‘That is the way, the only way, to salvation.’

‘Perhaps. In any event, you and your good lady must come to dine at my house soon.’ I sensed the Coleswyns had been isolating themselves with their worries. More than was good for them.

‘That would be most pleasant.’ He clasped my hand. ‘God give you good night.’

‘And you, Master Coleswyn.’

‘Call me Philip.’

‘Then you must call me Matthew.’

‘I shall.’

He closed the door, leaving me to adjust my eyes to the darkness. The moon was up, but the overhanging eaves of the houses meant the sky was but a narrow strip. I began to walk towards the stables.

Ahead I saw a movement near the ground. I flinched, then realized it was nothing more than the lost dog, still wandering up and down the street in search of its owner. I had startled the poor creature, which ran into a doorway opposite.

There was a thud, a sudden yelp, then the dog flew out the doorway and landed at my feet, lifeless, its head at a horrible angle, its neck broken by a kick.

I jumped back, my hand going to my knife as I peered into the darkness of the doorway. Shadows moved within. I had been too careless. If this was Daniels and Cardmaker they could have me dead in an instant. But then, to my amazement, Isabel Slanning stepped out into the street. Two men in servants’ dress followed her; one I recognized as the man she usually brought with her to consultations at Lincoln’s Inn. She stood before me, staring right into my face, the moonlight making strange play with her features, those overlarge eyes glinting.

Her expression was triumphant. ‘So, Master Shardlake,’ she said, her voice a vicious hiss. ‘I was right! You not only ride with Master Coleswyn, you dine with him. He calls you a godly man, you are his confederate – ’

‘Madam,’ I said, aware that my voice was shaking with shock. ‘I told you before, lawyers observe the courtesies with each other. They are not consumed with blind hatred as you are!’ Behind her back, I caught a flash of white teeth as one of her servants smiled.