‘But what are their names?’ pressed Nicholas.
Chaloner hesitated. ‘I am not certain.’
‘You are lying.’
‘More evidence yet is needed.’
‘You know who they are.’
‘I believe I know who he is but not his confederates.’
‘Name the man,’ demanded Nicholas. ‘The Roaring Boy is a tasty loaf indeed but only half baked if we exonerate the innocent without pointing a finger at the malefactor.’
Chaloner shrugged. ‘It is not as easy as that.’
‘Very well, sir. Let us come at it another way.’
‘As you wish.’
‘Did you know Thomas Brinklow of Greenwich?’
‘Extremely well.’
‘Was he a friend or a relative?’
‘He was like to have been both,’ said the other. ‘I am betrothed to his sister, Emilia. Had he lived, Thomas would have been my brother-in-law by now.’
‘You are still betrothed to the lady?’
‘We will be fast married as soon as this business is finally over.’ Chaloner’s glib charm was replaced by a warm compassion. ‘Emilia has suffered deeply over this. She lost a brother whom she adored and a sister-in-law whom she liked in spite of Cecily’s failings. Emilia was as anxious as anyone to see Thomas’s death answered on the gallows but not when it meant the execution of two innocent people. She is desperate for the real murderer to be convicted. As am I.’
‘That is only natural,’ said Nicholas. ‘Emilia Brinklow is that one other person of whom you spoke just now?’
‘Yes. She alone is in my confidence.’
‘What of the author?’
‘The author is…no longer involved in the project.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he has gone away, Nicholas. Far away.’
‘Without waiting to see his work performed?’
‘The play was written out of love for Thomas Brinklow and given to us. I took upon myself the task of trying to get it staged by one of our leading companies.’
‘On Saturday last, you told me that you were involved in the creation of the piece.’
‘That is so.’
‘What form did that involvement take?’
‘I provided the facts of the case,’ said Chaloner, ‘the author supplied the art. To put it another way, Nicholas, I made the bricks and he built the house.’
‘You have worked hard.’
‘With good cause.’
‘How many of your facts are true?’
‘All of them!’ said the other with sudden vehemence. ‘I can vouch for each and every one of them. Do you think I would spend all that time and money in pursuit of something so important and let it elude my grasp? Consider what we are up against here. You have only been yoked to The Roaring Boy for a matter of days and it has cost you a beating. Imagine the dire threats I have received these past few months. I have to look over my shoulder wherever I go. Were I not so well-trained in the arts of war and able to take care of myself, Emilia would be mourning another loved one. That devil has sent his men after me a dozen times.’
‘What is his name?’ insisted Nicholas.
‘Speak it to nobody else, I charge you.’
‘Who is he?’
A long pause. ‘Sir John Tarker.’
‘You are certain?’
‘As certain as any man can be.’
‘Sir John Tarker that excels in the tournaments?’
‘The same.’
‘Was he acquainted with Thomas Brinklow?’
‘He was,’ said Chaloner. ‘Sir John spends much time at Greenwich Palace. Thomas was often a guest there.’
‘For what reason did he want Master Brinklow killed?’
‘Dislike, envy of his wealth.’
‘Murder needs a stronger warrant than that.’
‘Thomas and he had quarrelled. Sir John is a bellicose man who bears a grudge against any who gainsay him. His ire festered. When Thomas crossed him again, the testy knight hired ruffians to cut him down.’
‘There is something you are not telling me.’
‘They quarrelled. I would swear an oath on that.’
‘About what?’ said Nicholas.
‘Does it matter? They fell out. That is enough.’
‘Not for me,’ said Nicholas. ‘What was the cause?’
‘Some foolish disagreement.’
‘Is folly to be paid for with a life?’
‘They simply could not abide each other.’
‘The reason?’
‘Hold off, Nicholas,’ said Chaloner, turning away. ‘You have heard the truth about Sir John Tarker. You have read the play. It says all. What else do you need to know?’
‘Why you are shielding Mistress Emilia Brinklow.’
Chaloner reached involuntarily for his dagger but Nicholas was too quick for him, grabbing his arm in a grip of steel and holding it tight while he stared deep into the other man’s eyes. They were locked in a battle of wills for a long while before Nicholas finally prevailed.
Chaloner’s wrath subsided and he gave a resigned nod of acceptance. Nicholas released his hold. A memory made the young man shake with muted fury.
‘Sir John Tarker made unwelcome advances to Emilia.’
‘Her brother intervened?’
‘Most strongly. Thomas was a mild man but he could be a lion when roused. Sir John was more or less thrown out of the house in Greenwich, an insult that he would not bear lightly.’ An angry scowl descended. ‘He was fortunate. That scurvy knight was very fortunate. Had I been there, I would have used something more damaging than harsh words.’
‘Where were you at the time?’
‘In Holland. I came back within the month.’
‘To be told this sorry tale.’
Chaloner’s head dropped. ‘No, Nicholas. They kept it from me. My own dear Emilia was all but molested by that foul lecher and they hid it from me lest I run wild. I did not learn the truth of it until after Thomas’s death. When it was too late.’ He looked up with haunted eyes. ‘Can you see now why I am obsessed with this affair? Thomas was killed because he defended my betrothed. I’ll not rest until Sir John Tarker is arrested for the crime.’
Nicholas gave him time to recover from what had been a harrowing confession. It had robbed Chaloner of his poise and left his face ashen, but it had thrown a whole new light on The Roaring Boy. Nicholas brought the cloth away from his head and felt the wound with tentative fingers. It had stopped bleeding. He put the cloth aside and resumed the conversation. Something had struck him forcibly.
‘His sister is not mentioned in the play.’
‘Nor can she be. Emilia insists on that.’
‘But she is an element in the story.’
‘It is one that she prefers to forget,’ said Chaloner. ‘The fact of Sir John’s guilt is more important than its causes. He has been given reason enough in the play to murder Thomas, has he not? Why add more?’
‘Because we go in the pursuit of truth.’
‘Truth has to be tempered with consideration.’
‘I must speak with the lady.’
‘That, too, is impossible.’
‘Then we waste time here. Your play is not for us.’
‘Nicholas-’
‘Good night, sir,’ he said, rising to his feet. ‘I will not stay to be misled any further.’
‘You ask too much of me.’
‘And you ask too much of us!’ retorted Nicholas with a show of spirit. He snatched up a candle and held it to his face. ‘I have taken a beating for you and this play. That entitles me to know everything there is to know about it and I cannot do that unless I speak with the lady. If she will not meet my request, I’ll advise Master Firethorn to put the piece aside. That path has much appeal for me, I assure you.’
Their eyes met again in another contest of strength but it was soon over. The Roaring Boy was doomed without the help of Westfield’s Men. No other company would have the bravado to stage it and the skill to do it to bring the best out of it. Simon Chaloner was being forced to make the one concession he hated most but he had no choice.
‘I will speak to Emilia and arrange a meeting.’
‘We will try not to intrude too long upon her grief.’