Every single book I needed was gone. The row was gap-toothed, half empty. I frowned. Had Michael Gristwood been here before me? Yet books were lent rarely and only to senior barristers; Gristwood had been a mere attorney. Rowley’s desk was strategically placed, no one could have walked out with half a dozen books without him seeing them. I walked back to his desk. He looked up with an enquiring smile.
‘All the books I need have been taken out, Rowley. Every one on this list.’ I handed it to him. ‘I’m surprised at so many being allowed out. Can you tell me who has them?’
He frowned at the list. ‘These books haven’t been borrowed, sir. Are you sure they haven’t been misfiled?’ He looked up at me and in the uneasiness of his smile I knew the old fellow was lying.
‘There are big gaps in the shelf. Come, you must have a list of books that are lent out?’
He licked his lips uneasily at my severe tone. ‘I’ll see, sir,’ he said. He made a pretence of consulting a paper, then took a deep breath and looked up at me again.
‘No, sir. These have not been taken out. The clerk must have misfiled them, I’ll have a search done tomorrow.’
I felt a pang of sorrow that he could lie to me thus. Yet I saw too that he was frightened.
‘This is a serious business, Master Rowley. I need those books and they are valuable. I must raise this with the keeper of the library.’
‘If you must, sir,’ he said, swallowing.
‘I shall see Keeper Heath.’ But whoever Rowley was scared of, he was more frightened of them than of the keeper. He only repeated, ‘If you must.’
I turned and left him. Outside I clenched my fists and swore. Every turn I took someone else had been there first. But I had learned something; what was in those books had a bearing on the Greek Fire story. I had other sources; I would go to the Guildhall library.
I walked to the gate, noticing that the weather had changed; there was a close, sticky feel to the air. The watchman called, ‘Good night.’ As I turned down Chancery Lane I saw a flicker of movement by the gatehouse. I turned quickly and saw a burly young man with a round, dull-looking face and a warty nose standing just by the gatehouse, his face momentarily illumined by the light from the window. My hand went to the dagger at my belt. The man’s eyes followed my movement, then turned away and I heard footsteps disappearing up the lane.
I stepped back under the gatehouse arch, breathing heavily. A man with wens on his nose, George Green had said. I looked around to see if the pock-faced man was here too, peering into the shadows of the walls of the Domus opposite, but could see nobody. The big man no doubt had followed me to the Inn unnoticed and waited to see if he could jump me when I emerged. I shivered.
I waited a little longer, then walked carefully up the dark lane, my ears on the alert. It was a relief at last to turn into my gate, but I cursed as I realized it would be foolish to go out alone at night again.
Chapter Nineteen
NEXT MORNING I ROSE to find a bank of heavy clouds louring over the City. The air coming through my open bedroom window was heavy, oppressive. It was the first of June; nine days till Elizabeth returned to the Old Bailey courthouse and to the demonstration of Greek Fire before the king.
Over breakfast I told Barak about the missing books and the man in the shadows by Lincoln’s Inn. In return he related what he had discovered during his evening touring the taverns. He had heard that the strange Baltic drink had been offered for sale at a riverside tavern in Billingsgate, the Blue Boar. He had also visited the taverns round Walbrook but found none of the Wentworths’ servants; they were known as a sober, churchy lot.
‘I got to speak to the servant from the house next door, but he said only that the Wentworths kept themselves to themselves. He bent my ear for an hour about how his old dog had gone missing.’
‘You had a busy night.’ Despite the beer he must have quaffed last night, Barak looked quite fresh.
‘I did some more asking after pock-face and the man with the wens on his face too. Nothing. They must be out-of-town men. I was starting to wonder if they’d been called off, but it seems not from what you say.’
Joan entered with a note. I tore open the seal.
‘From Goodwife Gristwood. She’ll meet us at Lothbury at twelve. If the case is heard on time we can make it by then.’
‘I’ll come to Westminster with you first, if you like.’
There was nothing else he could usefully do that morning. ‘Thank you. I will feel safer. Have you something in sober black?’
‘Ay, I can look respectable when I need. Lady Honor’s tonight.’ He winked. ‘Bet you’re looking forward to that.’