Yori cleared his throat. ‘Before we do that, can I show you something?’

Jack frowned. ‘Of course. What is it?’

‘It’s best you see it for yourself and make your own mind up,’ he replied cryptically.

Jack glanced over at Rose, who was slowly coming round. ‘Yori, can’t it wait?’

Yori shook his head adamantly.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Signor Horatio, helping Rose to take a sip of water. ‘I’ll look after her.’

So, leaving their injured friend in the sword master’s care, Jack and Akiko followed Yori down the stairs and back into the Gallery of Arms. The room was now deserted, the guests all in the Great Hall, only a patch of drying blood marking the spot where Rose fell.

‘Look at this,’ said Yori, beckoning Jack and Akiko over to Sir Henry’s towering portrait over the fireplace.

Jack peered at the painting. ‘It’s very impressive, but what exactly are we supposed to be looking for?’

‘Here!’ said Yori, pointing to an inscription of two letters in the right-hand corner.

‘N … H …’ Jack read out aloud. He furrowed his brow. ‘And?’

Yori let out a heavy sigh, as if the answer was obvious. ‘Your locket! It’s the same artist.’

Tugging the silver locket from round his neck, Jack compared the initials, trying to ignore the swell of sadness at seeing his sister’s face once more. ‘N. H. – Nicholas Holme. So what of it? He’s probably painted countless portraits.’

‘It’s true that, on its own, it’s just a coincidence,’ agreed Yori. ‘But I’ve checked other paintings in Lupus Hall, and Sir Henry appears to have commissioned a number from this particular artist. He clearly favours his style. Maybe he was even his patron for a while.’

‘That doesn’t mean Sir Henry has anything to do with the locket, though,’ said Akiko.

‘No, it doesn’t,’ conceded Yori. ‘But there is a possible connection.’ He turned away from the portrait and headed over to the racks of arquebuses. ‘Earlier, at the ball, I overheard some guests talking about Sir Henry’s claim to his coat of arms. There’s a rumour he bought it and has no true family connection to a noble lineage.’

‘That’s not uncommon,’ said Jack, unsure where his friend was taking them with this. ‘Many successful merchants have bought themselves the right to bear a coat of arms.’

‘Well, it would be odd in Japan,’ observed Akiko, ‘like a fisherman buying a katana to become a samurai!’

‘No, that’s not the issue,’ said Yori. ‘It’s the coat of arms itself.’ He pointed to the black-and-white wooden shield hanging above the rack of rifles. ‘Don’t you remember what Mrs Winters in Bedlam said? Beware the red wolf at your door!’

Jack studied the design on the shield – a white stag opposite a red wolf. A sense of unease began to creep into his heart.