He was waiting for a response. I inclined my head by a tiny degree to show that I acknowledged the truth of his words. Otherwise I intended to give him nothing. But he had cut through to my greatest vulnerability, and he knew it.
‘It would be to your advantage to make new friends, one would think.’ He brushed an invisible speck from his sleeve. ‘You have been a thorn in my side for some time now, Bruno. You destroyed a project in which I had invested heavily. I have considered having you killed, obviously.’
The logs spat and hissed in the hearth. He lifted his chin as if daring me to answer back. We looked at one another in silence.
‘Is this where I graciously thank you for having decided against it?’
‘Decided against it, so far.’ The corner of his mouth twitched again. ‘On reflection, I felt that for the present you were more useful alive.’
‘And now you wish me to be your friend? That is quite a change of heart.’
‘The royal family are not your friends, no matter how much you wish to believe otherwise. You may soon be glad of influential allies in Paris. Let us raise a glass to new alliances.’ He picked up a small bell from the mantelpiece and rang it. At the clear note the door opened, though as far as I could see no one had entered, despite the sound of laboured breathing. I peered over the back of a chaise longue and started at the sight of a dwarf in a black velvet suit embroidered with tiny pearls, who crossed to execute a bow towards Guise.
‘A jug of hot wine for our guests,’ the Duke said, hurrying him out with an impatient gesture. The dwarf turned and moved towards me with his strange, bow-legged gait. It was difficult to judge his age, but he was not a youth; his tightly curled hair was touched with grey at the temples, as was his beard. He returned my stare with open contempt; as he was almost past me he pulled his lips back and bared his teeth. Did he recognise me, or was that merely his way of greeting all visitors? I did not think the dwarf in Paul’s rooms had seen me any more than I had seen him; it was impossible to know whether it was the same man, but his appearance had only sharpened my sense of the danger I was in. I was tired of being a source of entertainment.
‘What is it you want from me, my Lord of Guise?’
The Duke appeared surprised by my bluntness. He tilted his head and considered his answer. ‘Good, then, let us be direct. I did not order the deaths of Paul Lefèvre or Joseph de Chartres. You may choose to disbelieve me, but it is the truth. And I want to know who did.’ He pulled at the point of his beard, not moving his eyes from my face. ‘At first I assumed Lefèvre’s murder was Henri’s doing. But de Chartres’s death complicates matters. If he killed Lefèvre, he would not have done it for Henri, I am certain, not for any price. So something else is at work here. Paget is under the impression you could shed light on it.’
I glanced at Paget, who smiled as if he had done me a favour. ‘Did Joseph work for you?’ I asked.
Guise frowned. ‘He served God and his Abbé, in that order.’
‘Who is also your supporter. The Abbé, I mean – I cannot speak for God’s allegiance. There are enough people in Paris already who claim to do that.’
This time Guise allowed a brief smile. ‘It will not be news to you by now that both the dead men were active on behalf of the Catholic League. De Chartres was a relative of my sister’s by marriage and the family will take his murder hard. It is not in my interest to have my name dragged into the business. It would be extremely convenient for me if you took the blame for de Chartres’s death. And – let us be frank – you have served yourself up on a platter, and the King with you.’
‘I can see that,’ I said, fighting to keep my voice even. ‘But you know I did not kill him.’
‘Ordinarily, that would be no reason not to have you arrested for it.’ He tapped his thumbnail against his teeth. ‘Except that you know something about this matter. Lefèvre confided in you – don’t pretend otherwise. You are going to tell me, one way or another, before I hand you over to the authorities.’
I took a deep breath. Though I was far from convinced that Guise was telling the whole truth, instinct born of experience told me that his uncertainty over the murders was genuine. Beneath the commanding demeanour I thought I caught a hint of anxiety in his eyes, in the way he continued to worry his nail against his teeth. Some element of his network had escaped his control, and it troubled him. I guessed that it had something to do with the conspiracy Paul had hinted at; one or both deaths had taken him by surprise and he needed to discover how much had become known, and by whom. The dwarf returned with a jug of wine and handed me a glass, nailing me with the same hostile glare from beneath his wild brows. I thanked him, hoping he would speak so that I could see if I recognised his voice, but he only showed his teeth again and shuffled away.
Guise gave an impatient cough. Realising that I had no choice, I ran through a brief, carefully edited summary of my reasons for pursuing Joseph, the links I had found between him and Paul, without mentioning Cotin’s name, and my conclusion that Joseph had killed Paul on someone’s orders and been killed himself once he had served his purpose. The Duke
