I raised my hands. ‘Lower your voice, or the women will hear.’ I hesitated; if I told him all I would be breaking my oath and exposing him to dangerous secrets, but if I were to do anything for Nicholas I needed Barak’s assistance now. So I told him the whole story: my first summons to the Queen, the missing Lamentation, the two men who had died and the others who had vanished, Myldmore’s confession, Anne Askew’s writings. I spoke softly, Barak asking a couple of questions now and again in an equally quiet voice.

At the end of my story he sat thinking, stroking his beard, but still looking angry. ‘Can’t you get the Queen’s men to help you?’

‘The note says they have a spy in the palace.’

‘That could be bluff.’

‘I daren’t risk it.’

‘Can’t you get a personal note to the Queen herself – you who would do anything for her?’ There was impatience in his voice.

I shook my head. ‘There is no time. Nine tonight, remember. It’s well past seven now.’

‘If there is a spy at Whitehall Palace, they won’t let you out of this house of theirs alive to tell of it. Let alone release Nick.’

I spoke quietly, ‘I just want you to come to the house with me and hide nearby while I go in. You’re good at that.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Then, if I don’t come out in twenty minutes, try to get a message to the lawyer William Cecil. There is no danger to you in that.’

He shook his head, suddenly weary. ‘You’d die for the Queen, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I answered simply.

He paced the room, then said, ‘Shit. I’ll come. Though I think Tamasin’s already suspicious over my hand.’

‘Thank you, Jack.’ I spoke humbly. ‘Thank you. I am more grateful than I can say.’

‘So you fucking should be. Now wait here while I go and say goodbye to my wife, tell her some story about a witness that needs to be seen urgently. I don’t want her seeing that drawn face of yours again. I’ll call you down.’

‘We’ve an hour and a half,’ I said.

‘Enough, then, to find a tavern, and think and plan properly.’

WE WALKED INTO THE CITY, then down towards the river. Barak had donned an old leather jerkin over his shirt, and brought another for me, which I had placed over my doublet once we left the house. It would not be wise to stand out in the poorer areas for which we were headed. Greening’s killers had known that.

‘Have you any gold in your purse?’ he asked.

‘Yes. And some silver.’

‘Gold’s much better.’