The older girl lifted her head and turned her doll-like eyes on me. 'She was horrible to us, sir,' she said quietly. 'She said she had more to do than tinkle on a music box.'

'We offered to take her to call on our friends,' Avice added. 'To banquets, to meet young gentlemen, but after one or two visits she said she didn't want to come again, called our friends mannered fools.'

'We did try, sir,' Sabine said earnestly.

'I know you did, girls,' their grandmother said. 'You did all you could.'

I remembered what Joseph had told me about Elizabeth's bookish interests, her love of the farm. She was clearly a girl of independent spirit, different from her cousins, who I guessed would happily limit themselves to womanly interests, aiming only for good marriages. But lack of common interests could scarcely have led to murder.

'After a while she'd barely speak to us,' Avice added sadly.

Her sister nodded. 'Yes, she took to staying in her room.'

'She had her own room?' That surprised me. In most households unmarried girls would sleep together in the maidens' chamber.

'This is a large house,' Sir Edwin said haughtily. 'I am able to provide separate rooms for all my family. In Elizabeth's case that was just as well.'

'She'd never have slept with us,' Sabine said. 'Why, soon it got so that if either of us went to ask her to join in things, she'd shout at us to go away.' She flushed. 'As time went on she started using bad words to us.'

'She lost all decorum,' Sir Edwin said. 'She was scarce like a girl at all.'

The old woman leaned forward, dominating the room again. 'More and more she seemed to hate us. At meals you couldn't get a civil word from her. In the end she said she'd take her food in her room and we let her; her presence at table spoiled our meals. When you are blind, Master Shardlake, you are more sensitive to atmospheres, and the atmosphere around Elizabeth grew dark with unreasoning hate for us. As dark as sin.'

'She hit me once,' Sabine said. 'That was in the garden. She took to sitting out on the bench on her own when the weather grew warm. One day she was sitting reading one of her books there and I went and asked her if she would like to come picking mayflowers outside the City walls. And she just picked up her book and started hitting me about the head with it, using terrible words. I ran away to the house.'

'I saw that myself,' Sir Edwin said. 'I was working in my study and I saw Elizabeth fly at my poor daughter from the window. I told Elizabeth to keep to her room for the rest of the day. I should have known then what she might do. I blame myself.' Suddenly he buried his head in his hands and his voice broke. 'My Ralph, my boykin. I saw him lying there, dead and stinking-' He sobbed, a heartbreaking sound.

The girls lowered their heads again and the old woman's jaw set hard. 'You see the horrors you raise for us, Master Shardlake.' She turned to Sir Edwin. 'Come, my son, fortitude. Tell him how Elizabeth treated Ralph.'

The mercer wiped his face with a handkerchief. He glared at Joseph, who seemed near to tears again himself, then at me. 'I thought at first she might like Ralph better than my daughters. He was another one who went his own way, bless the imp. And he did try to befriend her, he was pleased to have someone new in the house. To begin with they seemed to get on well: she went for a couple of country walks with him, they played chess together. But then she turned against him too. One evening, about a month after she came, I remember we were in here before dinner and Ralph asked Elizabeth to play a game of chess. She agreed, though in a surly way. He was soon winning, forward boy that he was. He leaned forward and took her rook, and said, "There. I have him, that rook will peck out no more eyes from my men." And Elizabeth threw the board up in the air with a great cry of anger, sending the pieces all over the room, and landed Ralph a great clout on the head. She left him sobbing and ran to her room.'

'It was a terrible scene,' the old woman said.

'We told Ralph to keep out of her way after that,' Sir Edwin went on. 'But the boy loved the garden, as why should he not, and she often sat there.'

'They may say Elizabeth is mad,' the old woman said. 'If she won't speak, no one can be sure. But I say it was wicked jealousy, jealousy because her cousins were more accomplished than her and our household a better one than the home she'd lost.' She turned her face to me. 'I felt and heard it all, the growth of her unreasoning hatred and violence, for I stay at home while Edwin is in the City and the girls go visiting.' She paused with a sigh. 'Well, Master Shardlake, you have heard us. Do you still doubt Elizabeth threw Ralph down that well?'

I avoided a reply. 'You were here on that day, madam?'

'I was in my room. Needler ran up and told me what had happened. It was I ordered him to go down the well. I felt Ralph's poor dead face when he brought him up.' She waved a bony hand in the air, as though touching that dead face again. Her harsh features softened for a moment.

I turned to the girls. 'You agree with what your father and grandmother have said?'

'Yes, sir,' Avice said.

'I wish to God it were not so,' Sabine added. She passed a hand over her eyes. 'Grandam,' she said meekly, 'my vision is blurred. Do I have to use the nightshade?'

'Belladonna is good, child. By expanding your pupils, it makes you look more comely. But perhaps a smaller dose.'

I looked at the old woman with distaste. I had heard of drops of deadly nightshade being used in this way for cosmetic purposes, but it was poisonous stuff.

I thought a moment, then stood up. 'I wonder if I might see Elizabeth's room, and perhaps the garden, before I go? I will only take a few minutes.'

'This is too much-' Sir Edwin began, but once more his mother interrupted.

'Get Needler to take him. Take Joseph too, then afterwards they can both leave.'

'Mother-' Joseph had risen and taken a step towards the old woman. She tightened her grip on her stick and for a moment I thought she might strike him, but she only turned her head abruptly away. Joseph stepped back, his face working. Sir Edwin gave him an angry look, then rang a bell. The steward appeared, so quickly I wondered if he had been listening at the door, and bowed low to his master.

'Needler,' Sir Edwin said heavily, 'Master Shardlake wishes to visit the room that was Elizabeth's and then the garden. Show them, then show them out.'

'Yes, Sir Edwin.' Needler's manner was obsequious. 'And cook says he has a dish of blackbirds for tonight, if that pleases you.'

'Not too much sauce in it this time,' the old lady said sharply.

'Yes, madam.'

Neither Sir Edwin nor his mother made any move to say farewell, and the girls lowered their heads, though not before I saw Sabine glance at Needler and redden. I wondered if she could have a fancy for the boor: there was no accounting for young girls' fancies.

The steward led us out, closing the door with a snap. I was glad to be out of that room. Joseph was pale. Needler looked at us enquiringly.

'The murderess's bedroom, is it?'

'The accused's room,' I replied coldly. 'And mind your tongue, fellow.' Needler shrugged and led us up a further flight of stairs. He unlocked a door and we passed inside.

Whatever else had happened to her in that house, Elizabeth had had a fine room. There was a four-poster bed with a feather mattress, a dressing table with a mirror of glass, and chests for her clothes. There was good rush matting on the floors that gave off a pleasant scent in the warm air. Several books stood on a shelf above the dressing table. I read the titles with surprise: Tyndale's Obedience of a Christian Man, the Coverdale New Testament, and several devotional works as well as The Castel of Health and Latin poetical works by Virgil and Lucan. A learned little library.