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Nicholas and I looked at each other. This was indeed no query about land ownership.

‘Have either of you been to Norfolk?’ Parry asked.

‘No, sir,’ Nicholas answered. ‘I come from Lincolnshire, but over by the Trent.’

‘And I have never been,’ I replied. ‘Though I had a goodly number of clients from the county in the days when I represented poor folk at the Court of Requests.’

‘Ah yes.’ Parry smiled cynically. ‘You’ll know the saying, then, “Norfolk wiles, many men beguiles”. I’ve heard the commons there are the most litigious in the country, forever suing gentlemen over rents and enclosure of common land. What’s that other saying? “Every Norfolk man carries Lyttelton’s Tenures at the plough’s tail”.’

‘Certainly Norfolk people have good knowledge of their rights. And are ready to club together to obtain representation in Requests where the common law won’t help them.’

‘Did you win many cases for these oppressed Norfolk commons?’

‘Some. Despite the law’s delays and the landlords’ own wiles.’

Parry grunted. ‘Well, the people this matter concerns are gentry; I would say as little as possible about your old days at Requests.’

I observed, ‘The gentlemen of Norfolk have a reputation for being as quarrelsome with each other as with their tenants. Particularly since the old king destroyed the Howards and stripped them of their lands. They used to be masters there.’

Parry nodded. ‘I know. The old Duke of Norfolk kept a certain rough order. Now he sits in the Tower year after year, under that sentence of treason trumped up by the old king. The Protector hasn’t the balls to execute him; he’s waiting for him to die. He won’t, though, from sheer obstinacy, though he’s past seventy-five.’ Parry laughed brusquely, raising his eyebrows. ‘As you know, his lands have mostly been sold to the Lady Mary, and she is building up a landed interest in East Anglia. She has taken up residence at Kenninghall, the Duke’s Norfolk palace. I believe she is there now.’

‘The Lady Elizabeth wanted to build an estate in Norfolk, did she not?’

‘I know several proposed purchases there fell through,’ Nicholas said. ‘I wondered at the Lady Elizabeth’s interest in that county.’

‘The Boleyn family are from Norfolk,’ I explained.

‘I thought their home was Hever, in Kent,’ Nicholas said.

Parry shook his head. ‘They were Norfolk gentry originally. I have wondered if Mary has looked to build up an affinity there to spite her sister. She hates her enough. She truly believes Elizabeth isn’t Henry’s daughter at all, that Anne Boleyn had her by her lover Mark Smeaton. Pentwyr o cachu. ’

Nicholas looked puzzled.

‘Pile of shit,’ Parry translated.

I looked at him in surprise. ‘I’ve not heard that story.’

He smiled tightly. ‘Oh, I have one or two – shall we say observers – in Mary’s household at Kenninghall, as, no doubt, the Lady Mary does here.’ He leaned forward, clasping his plump hands together. ‘Which is one reason I stressed the importance of keeping this matter close. I know the Lady Mary was mighty sore when Elizabeth escaped charges in January.’ He frowned again and shook his head. ‘Having Mary at Kenninghall now is a complication. The story is not widely known yet, but when the Norfolk assizes start, it will be.’ He looked at me hard. ‘It concerns members of the Boleyn family; distant relatives, but relatives of the Lady Elizabeth nonetheless. That is why it is delicate.’

‘And you said, depraved –’

Parry leaned back. He said quietly, ‘The Boleyns have been minor Norfolk gentry time out of mind. Living on their estates, collecting their rents, occasionally sending a clever son to make his way in London, like Anne Boleyn’s great-grandfather. But they were never big fish until the old king set his cap at the Lady Elizabeth’s mother. When Anne Boleyn and her immediate family fell, the Norfolk Boleyns continued as out-of-the-way landowners, keeping quiet. The family name had acquired a certain notoriety.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed quietly. ‘Which it still has.’ Thirteen years after Anne Boleyn’s execution, some people, especially religious traditionalists, still screwed up their faces at mention of her name. I had been present at her execution and for a moment saw again in my mind’s eye that grey spring morning, the silent crowd, the sword flashing through the air and the spray of blood as the Queen’s head was severed. I suppressed a shudder.

Parry continued, ‘But the Lady Elizabeth is rich now, and occasionally people come here asking favours, claiming to be poor kin from Norfolk fallen on hard times.’

‘As always happens when people come into much money, and have a large household full of positions.’

‘Exactly. Mistress Blanche and I have always discouraged such visitors. The Lady Elizabeth has sometimes wanted to meet one of these so-called relatives, but we have always advised against. Even now, Boleyn associations are best avoided.’ He raised his bushy eyebrows. ‘Frankly, we usually do not tell her when someone turns up claiming distant kinship.’ He gave a short, barking laugh. ‘A couple of times she has found out from other servants that we have turned people away. Then Mistress Blanche gets the sharp end of her tongue. And I get the inkpot thrown at me if I’m lucky, the paperweight if not.’ He rubbed one cheekbone reminiscently, then continued. ‘I always investigate these people afterwards, and they have nearly always turned out to be fraudulent. I have a barrister who acts for me on such matters, Aymeric Copuldyke, together with a Norfolk man in his employ, Toby Lockswood.’

I said, ‘I met Copuldyke at your office last summer. He had called to see you. We only exchanged a few words.’ I remembered a short, fat man, perspiring and irritable in the heat.

Parry grunted. ‘Toby Lockswood is more useful than his master. You will need to speak to both when you return to London.’

Nicholas said quietly, ‘It must be hard for the Lady Elizabeth, to have no close family.’ I glanced at him. He knew better than most.

Parry answered sharply, ‘In the Lady Elizabeth’s case, it is politic to keep Boleyn relatives at a distance –’ He hesitated. ‘Mistress Blanche tells me she wears a locket round her neck containing her mother’s image. Such loyalty could be exploited by some fraud. Make another scandal.’ Parry sighed deeply, and I realized he was under strain. He paused, then continued, ‘Just a month ago, on the fourth of May, Mistress Blanche brought me news of a woman who had turned up in the servants’ hall. She claimed to be a distant cousin by marriage to the Lady Elizabeth, who had fallen on hard times since her husband died and their landlord ended his tenancy. Normally Mistress Parry would have thrown her out, but there were things about this woman that led her to suggest we both see her.’

‘What things?’ I asked.

‘She was about fifty, to begin with, while most who try that game are young. She had blonde hair turning grey, cut short, against nits no doubt. And, though she was dressed in rags, she spoke in refined tones, not that incomprehensible Norfolk draunt, which showed she came of good stock. So Mistress Blanche brought her to me.’ Parry shook his head. ‘By Jesu, she was a poor-looking creature. She looked half starved. She had a thin face pinched with cold and hunger, hair dirty under her coif, and was wearing a cheap wadmol dress.’

Nicholas observed, ‘A real gentlewoman would surely have had clothes of fine material, even if they were worn with use.’

Parry nodded. ‘Well observed.’ He paused. ‘But this woman’s accent sounded genuine. And she seemed worn out, truly desperate. She said she was sorry to trouble us, she was only distant kin by marriage, but had nowhere else to turn. Those who come here with such claims usually gawp at the house with awe, or at least interest, but this woman hardly seemed to notice anything. So I invited her to sit down and tell me her story. She did so, and it sounded plausible. At first,’ he added grimly.