Pietro Maldini was resentful at first, feeling that he and his brother had been badly let down in their adopted country, talking about some of the slights they had received. But the more he talked, the more relaxed he became. He spoke with great fondness of his brother and revealed many insights into his character. Christopher was struck by the speed with which Jeronimo Maldini had settled into his new home. He pressed for more personal detail.
'Did he never wish to marry?'
Maldini shrugged. 'Why tie yourself to one woman when you can please many?'
'Is that what your brother did?'
'Jeronimo was a very handsome man. He could take his pick.'
'I understand that he bought jewellery from a goldsmith called Mr Crenlowe.'
'That is so.'
'Was he able to afford the high price that must have been charged?'
'Of course!' rejoined the other.
'And did you brother always buy expensive gifts for his ladies?'
'No,' said Maldini with a half-smile. 'He did not need to. The gift they had was Jeronimo himself. That was enough.'
'Except in this particular case,' noted Christopher. 'Why was that?'
'One lady, she was very special to him. He love her dearly.'
'But not enough to marry her, obviously.'
'She already had a husband. Most of them did. Jeronimo, he prefer that.'
'Who was the lady he loved more than the others?' asked Christopher. 'She must have been special to him if he was ready to spend so much money on her. Did he ever tell you her name?'
'My brother, he would never do that. He protect the lady's reputation. But I did watch him seal a letter to her once,' said Maldini. 'He wrote something on the front of it.'
'Well?'
'It was her initial. Her name, I think it begin with 'M'.'
Sir Humphrey Godden had enjoyed his visit to his favourite coffee house. He was among friends and able to relax. There was far less gossip to be heard about the murder of the Italian fencing master and that, too, contented him. It was something that he was trying to put out of his mind for the time being. When he finally came out of the building, he was feeling more cheerful than he had done for a week. Then someone stepped out of a doorway and took him familiarly by the arm. It was the man he had first known as Captain James Harvest.
'Good day to you, Sir Humphrey!' he said, grinning broadly.
'What are you doing here?'
'Waiting for you, of course. When I saw your coach, I knew that you were inside. And I could hardly join you,' he went on, indicating the dark suit that he was wearing, 'in this humble garb.'
'I've nothing more to say to you,' growled Sir Humphrey. 'I gave you what you wanted so you can now disappear from my life.' 'That's what I'd hoped to do, Sir Humphrey, but a constable has other ideas.'
'Constable? Are you talking of Mr Bale?'
'The very same. He's a good huntsman. He found out where I was hiding and lay in wait for me. That will not do, Sir Humphrey I'm too fond of my freedom to risk another meeting with that tenacious fellow.'
'Why tell me?'
'Because you are in a position to help me.'
'You'll get no more money from me,' snarled Sir Humphrey.
'It's not money that I'm after,' said the other, 'but somewhere to hide. You have that huge house with all those empty rooms in it. Nobody would ever think of looking for me there. It would be so much more comfortable than a tenement in Wapping.' He grinned again. 'What do you say?'
'No!'
'Why must you be so inhospitable?'
'You are not coming anywhere near my home,' said Sir Humphrey 'Find somewhere else to hide or get out of London altogether.'
'I don't have enough money for that. You were the only person ready to help me. Martin turned me away with a mouthful of abuse. We used to be such friends, all three of us.' He nudged the other man in the ribs. 'Do you remember?'
'Look,' said Sir Humphrey, trying to sound more reasonable. 'It's not possible.
'Why not? I stayed there once before - when your wife was away.'
'That was a long time ago.'
'I still remember how soft and inviting the bed was,' said the other. 'It will only be for a week or so. The trail will have gone cold by then. Mr Bale will think that I've quit the city and give up.' He gave a knowing leer. 'I think that you owe me a favour. Remember what happened to your wife.'
'Be quiet, man!'
'I helped you to resolve the problem regarding Lady Godden.'
Sir Humphrey shook him. 'I won't tell you again!'
Their eyes locked and he began to wilt under the other man's gaze. In trusting the former Captain Harvest, he had been unwise and was now suffering the consequences.
'This is blackmail!' he hissed.
'A week is all I ask, Sir Humphrey. Then I'll be gone for good.'
Sir Humphrey began to weaken. 'My wife must not even know that you're there.'
'I'll be as quiet as a mouse. Lock me in the cellar, if need be.'
'Amid my wine and brandy?' said the other. 'I'm not that stupid.'
'My horse is nearby. Shall I follow you back to Covent Garden?'
'Can you not leave it until after dark?'
'No, I need a refuge now.'
Sir Humphrey was trapped. An enjoyable visit to the coffee house had been ruined by a face from the past but he was not in a position to ignore it completely. There was an obligation that could be held over him. He opened the door of his coach as he thought through the implications of the request. With one foot on the step, he turned round and spoke in a grudging voice.
'I'll do it,' he said, 'but let me get to the house well before you do.'
Henry Redmayne was outraged by what he saw as a filial betrayal. When Christopher explained what he had done, Henry took his brother by the shoulders and shook him hard.
'That man tried to throttle me!' he yelled.
'I still have the bruises from his cudgel.'
'Then why did you not avenge the pair of us? I'd have torn the rogue apart.'
'What would that have achieved?' asked Christopher.
'It would have given me profound satisfaction.'
'No, Henry, it would have ensured that you'd have an appointment with the hangman, after all. You were imprisoned for a crime you did not commit. Only a fool would then try to kill someone within the confines of the prison. Pietro Maldini did that,' he pointed out, 'and look where he has ended up.'
'Enjoying a pleasant chat with my brother.'
'There was nothing pleasant about it for either of us.'
Christopher calmed him down and explained in detail what had happened. When he realised that his brother had been searching for information that might lead to his release, Henry was apologetic. He was also angered by the news that his rival had bought some expensive jewellery for a married woman.
'It had to be for Patience,' he decided. 'He commissioned it for her.'
'The name begins with 'M' and that rules Lady Holcroft out.'
'But she adored jewels of all kind, Christopher. They were her real joy in life. Patience deserved to be covered in diamonds and rubies. I asked Martin Crenlowe to fashion a brooch for me but, before I could give it to her, Patience was taken away from me by that fiend of an Italian.'
Christopher loved his brother too much to disabuse him of his illusion. Having heard Lady Holcroft's account of their friendship, he resolved never to mention to Henry that he had ever met her. It would be too cruel.
