‘I think you are right,’ I answered. ‘I think Daniels and Cardmaker were employed by someone important, but whoever it was has covered his tracks utterly.’

His eyes fixed on mine. ‘And that book? The one called Lamentation of a Sinner?’

‘It has not been found, though – ’ I hesitated – ‘at least it has not been used to damage the Queen.’

Okedene shook his head. ‘It is all terrible, terrible.’ I felt a stab of guilt, for I had scarcely thought of him recently. An ordinary man whose life had been turned upside down by all this. ‘I fear more troubled times may be coming,’ he added, ‘for all the heresy hunt has ended. People say the King may not last long, and who knows what will happen then?’

I smiled wryly. ‘One must be careful what one says about that. Forecasting the King’s death is treason.’

‘What is not treason these days?’ Okedene spoke with sudden fierce anger. ‘No, my family is better out in the country. The profit we will make on our crops may be little, with the coinage worth less every month, but at least we can feed ourselves.’

‘I am sorry my enquiries brought such trouble to you,’ I said quietly.

Okedene shook his head. ‘No, the fault lies with those who killed my poor friend.’ He stood up and bowed. ‘Thank you, sir, and goodbye.’ He went to the doorway, then turned back and said, ‘I thought I might have had some word, perhaps some thanks, from Lord Parr, for going to tell him privately what had happened that night.’

‘He is not best known for gratitude,’ I said sadly.

LATER THAT MORNING my work was disturbed again, unexpectedly. From the outer office I heard Nicholas’s voice call out, ‘No!’ followed by a tinkling sound.

I hurried out. I found Barak and Skelly staring in astonishment at him. He stood red-faced, his long body trembling, staring at a letter in his hand. On the floor at my feet I saw a golden coin, a half-sovereign: others were scattered around the room.

‘What has happened?’ I asked.

‘He has just had a letter delivered,’ Skelly said.

Nicholas stared at me then swallowed, crumpling the letter in his hand. Skelly stepped out from behind his desk and began going round the room, picking up the scattered coins.

Nicholas spoke coldly. ‘Leave them, please, John. Or put them in the Inn chapel poor-box. I will not take them.’

‘Nicholas,’ I said, ‘come into my office.’

He hesitated, but followed me in slowly, his movements strange and stiff. I gestured him to a chair and he sat down. I took my place on the other side of my desk. He looked at me with unseeing eyes. His face, which had been red, turned slowly white. The boy had suffered a shock. ‘What has happened?’