Rowland looked at me sharply. ‘Mistress Slanning says you went to dinner at his house.’

‘Once. We became friendly because we were both frustrated by our clients’ behaviour. Mistress Slanning’s brother is as much a vexatious litigant as she is. And Mistress Slanning found out about my visit because she sometimes passes the evening spying on Coleswyn’s house. That gives you a flavour of the woman.’

‘She says her brother met Coleswyn because they both attend the same radical church.’

‘It is a common enough way for lawyers to meet clients.’

He nodded agreement, then made a steeple of his fingers. ‘Who represents her now? Do we know?’

‘Vincent Dyrick of Gray’s Inn. He called to get the papers last week.’

Rowland frowned. ‘He has a vicious reputation. He’ll make something of this conspiracy theory in court. Probably instigated the complaint.’

‘He said he did not, it was all Isabel’s idea. Actually, I believe him there. But he won’t be able to stop her from making her allegations in court.’

‘Do you think she might complain to Gray’s Inn about Coleswyn?’

‘She’d have no right. He is not acting for her.’

Rowland considered. ‘Very well. I will try to make this go away. I will write to Mistress Slanning saying she has no evidence to back her complaints, and to warn her about the laws of defamation. That should frighten her off.’ He spoke complacently, though I feared such a letter would only anger Isabel further. ‘And you, Master Shardlake,’ Rowland continued, his voice full of angry irritation, ‘stay out of this case from now on. I don’t want you mixed up in any religious quarrels when you are to represent the Inn at the celebrations next month.’

‘I will step down from attending the ceremonies if you wish,’ I answered mildly.

Rowland gave his unpleasant half-smile and shook his head. ‘Oh no, Brother Shardlake, you will do your duty. I have already given in your name. Now, see this.’ He passed me another sheaf of papers. ‘Details of the peace celebrations.’