I glanced through them quickly. The notes were scrawled, but seemed thought through and logically set out. Perhaps the boy was settling down after all. I looked up at him – he was six feet tall, I had no choice but to look up. His green eyes were clear and direct. ‘I have a new case,’ I said. ‘It is a confidential matter, requiring discretion, and unfortunately for the next few days at least I will be much out of chambers and you will need to put in more hours. Are you willing to do that?’

‘Yes, sir,’ he answered, but I heard the unwillingness in his tone. It would mean fewer hours spent in the taverns with the other young gentlemen.

‘Hopefully it will not be for long. I would also welcome your assistance with some aspects of this new case. I would like you to come with me now to interview some witnesses.’ I hesitated, then said, ‘It is a matter of murder, and at the request of the victim’s parents I am helping the investigation. I am going to interview the constable, and then some witnesses.’

Nicholas immediately brightened up. ‘To catch a villain, that is a worthy task.’

I answered seriously, ‘If I take you with me on these enquiries, you must keep everything you hear entirely confidential. This is not a matter for discussion in the taverns. That could lead me, and you, into trouble.’

‘I know that cases must be kept confidential, sir,’ he answered a little stiffly. ‘Any gentleman must respect that.’

‘None more than this one. I have your promise?’

‘Of course, sir,’ he said in an injured tone.

‘Very well. Then walk with me now to St Paul’s. The murdered man was a printer. When I am asking people questions, listen hard, and if any questions occur to you, and you think them sensible, you may ask them. As you did with Mistress Slanning yesterday,’ I added. ‘You did well there.’

Nicholas brightened. ‘I wondered if I had gone too far. Whether she might leave you.’

‘That would be a tragedy,’ I answered sardonically. ‘And now, let us go.’ A thought occurred to me. ‘Did you bring your sword with you today?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Nicholas reddened. He liked to wear his sword when walking abroad, it was all part of his swagger.

I smiled. ‘Since your father’s being a landowner decrees you are a gentleman and gentlemen wear swords in public, we may as well turn the sumptuary laws to our advantage. It might impress the people we will be talking to.’

‘Thank you.’ Nicholas retrieved his sword, in its fine leather scabbard, tooled with a design of vine leaves. He buckled it on. ‘I am ready,’ he said.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight