The steward shouted to the servants who had gathered at the side of the lawn. ‘Quick! Someone ride to fetch the Cosham barber-surgeon! And tear up some sheets!’
I shouted, ‘My horse is ready saddled, tied up outside the back gate. Take it!’
Fulstowe looked wildly at me. ‘What the hell happened? Why are you here?’
‘Hugh shot David. I think he might have killed us had David not intervened.’
‘What?’
‘Leave me go!’ I heard a shrill, desperate voice from the doorway. Hobbey stood there, Dyrick holding his arm. He threw Dyrick off, ran across to David and knelt beside him. He began tenderly stroking his dark head, tears streaming down his cheeks. The boy lifted a hand with difficulty and his father clutched it.
I felt a hand seize my own arm, nails digging into it, and looked up into Dyrick’s furious face. ‘God’s nails,’ he snarled. ‘What have you done?’
‘Found out the truth,’ I answered quietly. ‘That Emma Curteys has been impersonating her dead brother. It’s all over now, Dyrick.’
‘I didn’t know!’ he blustered. ‘All these years, they made a fool of me too. I knew nothing until—’
‘Until Lamkin died, and you demanded Hobbey tell you what it was Abigail said I could not see that was in front of me. Then Feaveryear guessed.’
An angry spasm twisted Dyrick’s sharp features. ‘The stupid lad formed a passion for Hugh, that sent him wailing and praying to God for forgiveness. Then he realized the truth, he said he kept looking at Hugh closely and one day he understood.’
‘You should have withdrawn from acting for Hobbey then.’ I looked at him with scorn. ‘But you couldn’t bear to be made to look a fool, could you? Couldn’t bear the revelation of how you had been gulled?’
‘You sanctimonious bent churl!’ Dyrick launched himself at me, pummelling at me with hard bony fists, even as Hobbey wept over his son. Then he was sent sprawling down on the lawn. Barak stood over him.
‘You preening shit,’ he said. ‘You’re finished. Now shut your weasel mouth or I’ll give you the beating I’ve dreamed of for weeks!’
Dyrick lay on his back, red and gasping, his robe spread out beneath him. I looked to where Hobbey still knelt over David; he had not even turned round. ‘My poor son,’ he said gently. ‘My poor son.’
THE BARBER-SURGEON arrived shortly after. Helped by Fulstowe he took David inside, Hobbey and the servants following. Dyrick went with them. Barak and I stayed in the great hall. I asked a servant to tell Dyrick I wanted to talk to him as soon as possible. We sat down at the table, silent, shocked, waiting.
‘Where do you think Emma will go?’ Barak asked.
‘My guess is Portsmouth, to try and enlist. I think, God help me, she may seek to end all this in a blaze of glory.’
‘Did she kill Abigail?’
I shook my head. ‘I think today was the first time she lost control. No, that was someone else.’
He said, ‘If I hadn’t raised my voice – ’
We looked up at the sound of footsteps. Fulstowe approached us, pure hatred in his eyes. ‘Master Hobbey would speak with you.’
I nodded assent. ‘Come, Barak.’ I wanted a witness to this.
We followed the steward to Hobbey’s study. Hobbey sat slumped at his desk, his thin face grey, staring unseeingly at the hourglass. Dyrick sat in a chair next to him. Fulstowe stood by the window, watching, as Dyrick said to me, ‘Master Hobbey wishes to talk to you. Know it is against my advice—’
‘Your advice,’ Hobbey said quietly. ‘Where has that brought me? Since that first day you told me the children’s wardship was worth paying for.’ He looked at me; his eyes were sunk deep in his skull. ‘David will live. The barber-surgeon has taken the arrow out. But he thinks David’s spine is injured. He cannot move his legs properly. We must get a physician.’ His voice broke for a moment. ‘My poor boy, what a hard path I gave him to tread in this world. Harder than he could bear.’ He looked at me. ‘You are not my nemesis, Master Shardlake. I have been my own. I caused the destruction of my family.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Vincent says you know what we did.’
‘Yes,’ I answered gently. ‘I realized only this morning.’
‘We have told everyone there was an accident at the butts, that Hugh was frightened by what happened and has run away. I think they believed us.’ He paused. ‘Unless you tell them something different.’
I said, ‘It was David who shot at Barak and me that day, wasn’t it? I think he was even following me the night I arrived.’
He answered quietly, ‘I think so.’
‘And who killed his mother?’
Hobbey bowed his head. Dyrick raised a hand. ‘Nicholas – ’
Hobbey looked up again. ‘I feared so from the start. David – he had come to see everyone as his enemy; except me, and Emma, whom he – whom he loved. He said to me more than once that if anyone tried to expose us he would shoot them dead.’ He added sombrely, ‘I think perhaps he did mean to shoot you in the woods that day, but missed. He was never as good a shot as Emma.’