Okedene said, ‘It was, boy, a little Franciscan friary. After the Dissolution, many of the stones were taken for building, and no one has bought the site yet. There is still a glut of land in London.’

Nicholas rattled on. ‘I looked to see if there was still a trail through the long grass. There has been no rain, and I am a good tracker. I learned well when hunting at home. And there was a trail of flattened grass, as though people had run through it. And on a bramble bush, I found this.’ He pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket, fine white silk embroidered with tiny loops and whorls of blackwork. I saw it was from a shirt cuff such as only a gentleman could have afforded. It looked quite new. Nicholas said proudly, ‘My guess is that when the killers ran away one caught his shirt on the bramble thorns.’

Okedene looked at the scrap of cuff. ‘A fine piece of work, best silk by the look of it. But you have it wrong, boy, my assistant saw the assailants clearly and they wore rough wadmol smocks. Someone else must have passed through the garden and torn his shirt.’

I turned the fabric over in my hand. ‘But who would go wandering about an abandoned garden full of brambles wearing such finery?’

Nicholas said, ‘Perhaps men who were not poor at all, but put rough clothes over their shirts so that people in the street would not notice them.’

‘By Mary, Nicholas,’ I said, ‘you could have the right of it.’ And whoever stole the Lamentation had access to the highest reaches of the court. ‘Nicholas, did you speak to this beggar family?’

‘Yes, sir. A cottager and his wife from Norfolk. Their piece of land was enclosed for sheep and they came to London. They are camping out in the one room that still has a roof. They were frightened of me; they thought someone had bought the land and sent a lawyer to throw them out.’ He spoke of them scornfully; Okedene frowned disapprovingly. ‘I asked if they had seen anything on the night of the murder. They said they were woken by the sound of men running through the garden. They saw two men with clubs, big young fellows; one was almost bald, they said. They escaped by climbing over the far wall.’

‘So John Huffkyn saw aright.’ Okedene looked at the piece of silk cuff. ‘This worries me, sir. The killing could have been carried out by men of status.’

‘Yes, it could. You have done well, Nicholas. Please, Master Okedene, keep this secret.’

He laughed bitterly. ‘I can swear that, right readily.’

I put the scrap of lace in my pocket and took a deep breath. ‘And now I must question young Elias.’

THE APPRENTICE looked up from inking a tray of type. ‘Master,’ he said to Okedene as we entered, ‘we will be falling behind – ’