To my surprise Dyrick took her by the arm. ‘Come, mistress,’ he said quietly. ‘Let me accompany you to the gate.’
She shook off his arm, still fixing me with that steely look, and pointed a skinny finger at me. ‘Remember, Master Shardlake, I know all about the conspiracy: you, and my brother, and that Coleswyn. You will all pay the highest price. Just wait.’ She bared her teeth – good teeth for a woman of her age – in a smile of undiluted malice. ‘Master Dyrick would spare you, but I will not,’ she ended triumphantly, nodding at Dyrick, who looked uncomfortable.
With that, she turned, allowing Dyrick to lead her round the corner. I stared after them. Isabel’s behaviour had been absurd, almost unbalanced. But Dyrick had seemed worried, and I could not help but wonder anxiously what she had meant.
I SPENT AN HOUR making a copy of the map in the chambers of my opponent on the case. I found it hard to concentrate, though, for the bizarre encounter with Isabel still preyed on my mind. I decided to see if Coleswyn was in his chambers.
His clerk said he was, and once more I entered his neat, tidy office. He held out a welcoming hand. He was more at ease than I had ever seen him, relaxed and welcoming. ‘Matthew, how go things with you?’
‘A busy summer. And you, Philip?’
‘My wife and I feel happier now the heresy hunt is over.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘I took some books in yesterday, under the amnesty, good books written by men of true faith, but now forbidden. I have delayed doing it, for I was much attached to them, but the amnesty expires on Monday.’
‘I had some, too. I burned them, as I preferred not to have my name appear on a list.’
‘The amnesty is public, and many people have brought in books. Perhaps even some from Whitehall.’ He laughed uneasily. ‘If they prosecuted those who took advantage of the amnesty, that would be a great breach of faith, and illegal.’ He smiled sadly, looking out of the window at the quadrangle. ‘My books are a big loss to me, but our vicar says we must wait, for better times may be coming.’
I was glad he did not know about Bertano. I said, ‘I am visiting Gray’s Inn on other business this afternoon, but I have just had a strange encounter with Isabel Slanning and Brother Dyrick. I thought I should tell you.’
His face became serious. ‘What now? Dyrick has been pestering and bothering me about the depositions and other aspects of the case, trying to bully me in his usual manner. But he has not mentioned this nonsense about conspiracy again. I had hoped he was discouraging Isabel from going down that path. I would, if I were him. The courts will not welcome it.’
‘I think he may be trying to. When I ran into them just now, Dyrick was civil enough for once, and tried to hustle Isabel away. But she told me again she knew all about you, me and her brother conspiring together, and that we would pay, as she put it, the highest price.’
‘Dyrick did not back her up?’
‘Far from it, which is unusual for him. I begin to think Isabel is seriously unhinged. But Dyrick looked worried, and I cannot but wonder what she may have planned.’
Philip’s cheerful manner was gone. ‘Is there further word concerning her complaint about you to Lincoln’s Inn?’ he asked anxiously.
‘None. But Treasurer Rowland was going to write her a sharp letter. I should have expected a copy but I have heard nothing yet. I will call on him.’
Coleswyn considered a moment, then said, ‘I have discovered something else.’ He took a deep breath. ‘A few days ago, I was dining in hall when I saw a friend of mine from another chambers, who knows I have the Cotterstoke case – Dyrick’s cases are always a source of gossip round Gray’s Inn. He introduced me to a retired barrister, now over seventy, but of good memory. When he was young – this is over forty years ago – he acted for Edward and Isabel’s mother.’
I looked up with interest. ‘Oh?’
He hesitated. ‘Strictly, even though old Deborah Cotterstoke is dead, his duty of confidentiality remains. But you know how old fellows like to gossip. And I cannot help but be interested in anything concerning that family.’ He frowned. ‘I should not tell you, I suppose.’
I smiled gently. Coleswyn’s integrity was one of the things I admired in him. ‘I no longer represent Isabel. And I promise it will go no further.’ I inclined my head. ‘And if a former client threatens a barrister, as Isabel did this afternoon, I think he is entitled to seek out anything which might throw light on the circumstances. I take it the old man’s story does that, Philip?’
He grunted acknowledgement. ‘Not directly. But you and I have both wondered whence came the mutual hatred, and perhaps fear, in which Edward Cotterstoke and Isabel Slanning hold each other.’