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murderer, Henry. I've never seen you swat a fly, still less raise your hand against another man.' 'I do not always reign in my temper,' confessed Henry.
        'All of us have lapses.'
        'Not of the kind that lead to arrest.'
        'I'd be surprised if you even knew the murder victim.'
        'But I did, that's the rub. I knew and loathed Jeronimo Maldini.'
        'Maldini? Who was he?'
        'The man they found in the river.'
        Christopher was startled. "The fellow they had to cut out of the ice?'
        'According to report.'
        'But I was there at the frost fair when the body was discovered. Good Lord! What a bizarre coincidence we have here! Is that what has brought you to this pass? I did not even realise that the man had been identified yet. It was one of Jonathan Bale's sons who actually stumbled on the corpse. The lad was frightened to death.'
        'So was I when four constables came knocking at my door.'
        'What was name again?'
        'Maldini. Jeronimo Maldini.'
        'And you disliked him?'
        'I detested the greasy Italian,' said Henry petulantly. 'At one time, I made the mistake of going to him for fencing lessons but we soon fell out. Our enmity began there and grew out of all proportion.'
        'You said nothing of this to me.'
        'If I told you about every acquaintance of mine with whom I have a disagreement then it would take up an entire week. Life is a process of constant change, Christopher. We learn to see through people. Friendships fall off, antagonism takes over.'
        'How antagonistic were you towards Signor Maldini?'
        ' Very antagonistic.'
        'Could you give me more detail?'
        There was a pause. 'I'd prefer not to.'
        'But this is important,' said his brother. 'If I'm to help you, I need to be in possession of all the facts. I had no idea that there was any connection between you and the man they hauled out of the Thames. When I heard that you'd been arrested, I assumed that some grotesque error had been made.'
        'It has!' Henry looked up at him in dismay. 'At least, I hope that it has.' 'Why did they issue a warrant against you?'
        'Judicial spite.'
        'They must have had some grounds for suspicion.'
        'Witnesses had come forward.'
        'Witnesses?' repeated Christopher, feeling anxious. 'What sort of witnesses?'
        'Ones who were there at the time.'
        'At what time? There's something you're not telling me, Henry.'
        'I despised Maldini. I admit that freely.'
        'Did you quarrel with him?'
        'Several times.'
        'And did you do so in public? In front of witnesses?'
        Henry bit his lip. 'Yes,' he murmured.
        'What was the nature of the argument?'
        'It was a heated one, Christopher.'
        'Did you come to blows?'
        'Almost. His insults were too much to bear.'
        'And how did you respond?' Henry put his head in his hands. 'Please,' said his brother, leaning over him. 'I must know. I came to Newgate in the confident belief that some appalling mistake had been made and that, when I'd spoken up for you, I'd be in a position to take you home or, at the very least, to set your release in train. Yet now, it seems, there were grounds for suspecting you. Is that true, Henry?'
        'I suppose so.'
        'Heavens, man! Your life may be at stake here. We need more than supposition.'
        'It's all I can offer,' bleated Henry, looking up at him once more. 'For a number of reasons, there was bad blood between Jeronimo Maldini and me. It came to a head one evening when we had a chance encounter. His language was so vile that he provoked me beyond all endurance.'
        'So what did you do?'
        'I expressed my anger.'
        'How?'
        'I said something that, on reflection, I should not perhaps have said.'
        'And what was that, Henry?'
        'Does it matter?'
        'It matters