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these exorcism rituals, find any priests who were at Denham House. Go through it by rote. Take two days, no more. If you have not discovered the fate or whereabouts of this Thomasyn Jade within forty-eight hours, then you will say she is believed dead and the investigation will be forgotten. Dropped like a stone into a well, never to be seen or heard of again. Is that understood?’
    Shakespeare nodded.
    ‘And you, Frank.’ Cecil turned to Francis Mills, the other senior member of his intelligence staff. ‘Take a close look at this.’ He slid a paper across the table. ‘I do not pretend to understand what this is about, but, in John’s absence, you will put your mind to it. Is that understood?’
    Mills took the paper. Shakespeare watched the tall, hunched figure as he read the document. Preoccupied by his wife’s infidelity, Mills seemed thinner and more haunted than ever. Word had it that his neighbours had taken to jeering at him. Cuckold’s horns had been nailed up above his front door; Mills had not even had the energy to tear them down.
    ‘That letter was seized by a searcher at Gravesend,’ Cecil said. ‘It was among the belongings of a mariner who died of the bloody flux aboard a carrack named The Ruth , returned from Bordeaux. No one knows for whom it was intended. The letter was concealed and would not have been found, had the courier not died. You look at it, too, John.’
    Shakespeare took the paper from Mills. It was written in English.
    ‘ Be strong in faith, Father. The plan is advanced, and you must only be patient. We will come to you, that between us we may rid England of Satan’s seed for ever. With the love and righteous vengeance of God, the demons will be cast down with raging tempests and torrents of rain. Like the flood of old, we shall sweep away the rotten House of Tudor and all that dwell there. Be ready to play your part. Yours, in the love of Christ our only saviour and Gregory, great England’s truest friend, this twenty-third day. ’
    ‘It is the hand of Robert Persons,’ Shakespeare said without hesitation. ‘I have seen enough of his letters and writings.’
    Suddenly, Cecil was alert. ‘Persons? You are certain?’
    ‘Never more so. And the reference to Gregory might suggest Seville, the Jesuit college of St Gregory.’ As he spoke, a hot shiver seared into Shakespeare’s blood. Garrick Loake had mentioned the College of St Gregory.
    ‘And from what we know, Persons has been in Seville much in recent months,’ Cecil continued.
    Mills took the paper back and cast his eyes over it again, but Shakespeare was not sure he took in what he saw. The man appeared to have little enough mind left to don doublet and hose of a morning, let alone inquire into important matters of state. This letter should be Shakespeare’s task. The Thomasyn Jade affair had arrived at a most inopportune time.
    ‘Frank, are you with us?’ Cecil said sharply. ‘It is as if you were in another county!’
    Mills closed his eyes, then opened them and nodded to his master.
    ‘You understand what the missive is saying?’
    ‘Yes . . . I agree with John that this is the hand of Persons. But the implication is not clear. Perhaps it is encoded.’
    ‘That is possible, of course, but even without encryption, we can see murderous intent: “sweep away the House of Tudor”. There is no ambiguity there. Are they talking about another Armada? Is this a call to the Catholic faithful to be ready to rise up when the invasion starts? We know King Philip is preparing a new war fleet. Or is this something else, something more specific and yet more sinister?’
    ‘What could be worse than invasion, Sir Robert?’
    ‘I don’t know, Frank. That is for you to discover.’
    ‘We can see that it is intended for a priest,’ Shakespeare said. ‘It is addressed Father .’
    ‘There is Jesuit conspiracy here,’ Cecil said abruptly.
    Shakespeare grimaced. Cecil’s surmise seemed not only possible, but highly