'What was this apparatus like?' I asked.
He shrugged. 'Complicated. A big watertight tank with a pump attached and a pipe leading off. It took weeks to make, then Master Leighton said I'd have to have another try – the pipe was too broad.'
'When did the brothers first employ you?'
'November. It took till January to get the apparatus right.'
Two months before they went to Cromwell. 'Are you sure?'
'Yes.'
'And where was it kept? In Master Leighton's yard?'
'I believe so. They paid him well for its use.'
Goodwife Gristwood laughed mirthlessly. 'Did Master Leighton get his money?'
'Ay, Mother, he did. He insisted on payment in advance.'
She frowned. 'Then where did Michael get the money? Neither he nor Sepultus had any.'
'Perhaps someone else paid,' I suggested.
'They'd have had to,' the goodwife answered bitterly. 'I spent fifteen years dealing with Michael's mad schemes. Sometimes I had hardly any bread for the table. And it's all ended with him dead and David in danger.' She looked at her son with a tenderness that softened her face.
'I can make sure you are both kept safe,' I said. 'But I would like to speak to Master Leighton.' I looked at David Harper. 'Have you told him I was coming?'
'No, sir. We thought it better not.'
'Will he be at his foundry?'
'Ay, he has a new contract to repair the Fleet Street conduit. He said last Friday he'd have some casting for me. Pleased with himself, he was.'
'Can you take us there?'
'And will that be the end of this business?' Goodwife Gristwood asked.
'You need be involved no further, madam.'
She nodded at her son. He rose and led the way outside. His mother scuttled after him.
We walked up the lane, further into Lothbury. Through open doors we saw sweat-soaked founders, stripped to the waist, labouring over their fires. People looked out at us curiously as we passed by. At the bottom of a winding lane David stopped before a corner house, larger than most, with a workshop next to it and a high wall beside that.
'If there were sounds and signs of fire,' Barak muttered to me, 'they wouldn't attract attention here.'
'No. This was a clever place to choose.'
David knocked at the door of the house. It was shuttered, as were the windows of the workshop. Harper tried the workshop doors too, but they were locked.
'Master Leighton,' he called. 'Master Leighton, it's David.' He turned to us apologetically. 'Many founders grow deaf in their later years. But it's odd his furnace isn't lit.'
I had a sense of foreboding. 'When did you last see him?'
'Friday, sir, when he told me about his new contract.'
Barak looked at the lock. 'I could have that open.'
'No,' Harper said. 'I know who has a key. Everyone has a neighbour's key in case of fire. Wait here.' He went off down the lane. All around us the banging and clanging resounded in our ears. Goodwife Gristwood began twisting her hands together nervously.
Her son reappeared, a large key in his hands. He unlocked the door and we entered the yard. It was indeed a good place for Michael and Sepultus to have chosen; the high wall enclosed it on three sides and the windowless rear of the adjacent house occupied the fourth. There was a pile of pipes and valves, for Leighton's work on the conduits, no doubt. Blackened patches all over the walls caught my eye, like the ones I had seen in the Gristwoods' yard only larger.
Goodwife Gristwood and her son were standing nervously by the gate. I gave David Harper a reassuring smile – he looked as though he might run off any minute.
'Master Harper,' I said, 'tell me: does anything unusual strike you about this yard?'
He looked around. 'Only that it's been given a good clean recently.'
I nodded. 'That's what I thought. It's spotless.'
'Why would anyone want to keep a founder's yard spotless?' Barak asked.
'To hide all traces of what had been here.' I bent close to him and whispered, 'I think someone has removed the apparatus, and all traces of Greek Fire as well.'
'Leighton?'
'Possibly. Come, I think we should have a look in the house.'
I led the way out of the yard. We knocked again at the house door, but still there was no sign of life. I wiped a hand over my brow; it seemed hotter and stickier than ever up here among the foundries. All around us the clanging and scrating continued.
'We can get in via the workshop,' Harper said. 'It's the same key.' He hesitated, then opened the workshop door and stepped inside calling, 'Master Leighton?' Barak followed him.
'I'll stay outside,' Goodwife Gristwood said nervously. 'Take care, David.'
I followed Barak in. David opened the shutters and I saw a cluttered workshop, more pipes and valves and pans and an empty furnace. Harper picked up a coal from it. 'Stone cold,' he said.
Set in one wall was a door to the house. Harper hesitated, then inserted the key in the lock and opened it. Another darkened room. I caught a slight, familiar tang and grabbed Barak's arm. 'Wait,' I said.
Harper opened the shutters and turned round. Then his mouth fell open. We were in a parlour, surprisingly well appointed, but it was in chaos. The buffet cupboard had been overturned and lay on its side, silver plates scattered around.
David Harper had gone pale. He stood with his hand over his mouth. 'They got him too,' I whispered. 'They took the apparatus and killed him.'
'Then where's the body?' Barak asked.
'Somewhere in the house, maybe. I smell blood.' Instructing Harper to stay where he was, Barak and I searched the rest of the founder's home, Barak drawing his sword as we climbed the narrow stairs. Everything was in order, it was only the parlour that had been wrecked. We returned there to find David Harper had gone outside; through the window I saw him with his mother, looking at the house with a frightened expression. A man with a load of pans on his back passed by, giving them a puzzled look.
'They took the body with them,' I said, 'together with the apparatus. They didn't want a hue and cry about a murder in Lothbury.' I knelt and examined the floor. 'See, this part of the floor's been cleaned, there's no dust.' I saw a pair of flies buzzing around the overturned buffet, and took a deep breath. 'Here, Barak, help me move this.'
I wondered what horror we might find underneath the buffet, but there was only a patch of dried blood. Barak whistled.
'Where did they get the key?'
'From Leighton's body, perhaps.' I looked over to the front door. 'They didn't break the door in. I guess they knocked, and when Leighton answered they shoved him inside and then followed and killed him. Probably a quick blow with an axe again.'
'Risky. What if he called out and neighbours came? Harper's right, the founders are a close lot.'
'Perhaps Leighton knew them.' I bit my lip. 'Or knew someone who was with them. One of our potential conspirators, maybe.'
'We should ask the neighbours.'
'We can, but I'm willing to bet they came at night when no one was about. Come, there's no more we can do here.'
We rejoined Harper and Goodwife Gristwood in the street. Standing together, they were very alike, even to their looks of drawn anxiety.
'What's happened, sir?' Harper asked. 'Is Master Leighton-'
'He is not there. But I am afraid there are signs of violence-'
Goodwife Gristwood gave a little moan.
