Prince of Darkness

black eyes slid away, 'misunderstanding. And you, Sir?'
    'Matthew Droxford,' Corbett lied.
    The apothecary studied him, a faint smile on his full red tips as if he knew his visitor was lying.
    'And you want some medicine?'
    Cesar elegantly waved Corbett to a seat before disappearing into the small back room beyond, returning with two crystal goblets brimming with iced sherbet He gave one to Corbett before sitting down opposite, sipping from his own cup as if he had all the time in the world. Corbett tasted the drink gingerly. He knew this man, not by name or reputation, but by smelling the rotten evil about him. Oh, he would be a doctor, an apothecary, but he was also a poisoner. Corbett could not prove that but he recognised the kind of man who could concoct cunning elixirs which could kill a man or woman and leave no trace.
    Cesar put his own cup down on the floor.
    'Come, Sir,' he said briskly. 'Your business? Why are you here?'
    'You have been recommended to me,' Corbett answered brusquely. He half smiled, his eyes narrowed. 'You are a gentleman, Signor, you will understand if I give no names. I am married, and my wife has been unfaithful.' He saw the flicker of amusement in Cesar's face. 'Not for the first time,' Corbett continued hurriedly. 'I am a man of honour, Signor. I cannot divorce her nor can I proclaim myself a cuckold, to be a common joke amongst my tenants and fellows. I have not stinted in providing my wife with every luxury. I have begged for her fidelity.'
    'But she does not keep her word?' The apothecary leaned closer, like a priest ready to listen to a confession. 'And now, Signor, you wish to carry out sentence?'
    'Yes. I want a powder, a potion, one which will not kill immediately but over a period of months, undetected by her or any physician.'
    'Signor, that will be expensive.'
    Corbett asked the price and stifled his amazement at the reply. It would take most of the silver he had on him and that would be just for half an ounce of what was needed. Nonetheless, he agreed; the apothecary rose and disappeared into the back room, emerging a few minutes later with a small leather bag. He offered it, smiling, to Corbett.
    'You may taste it, Signor. It will not harm you. It's no more dangerous than chalk. But if you took it regularly…' He shrugged.
    Corbett took the powder and counted out the silver. The price was worth it. The powder he would throw away but the information the poisoner had provided was invaluable.

Chapter 11
    Corbett left that terrible shop without a word to Ranulf and Maltote, and walked out into the street off Faltour's Lane. 'Master!'
    Corbett stopped and turned. 'What is it, Ranulf?'
    'When you were in that apothecary's, I thought we were being watched. No, not just by some bully boy – someone else.'
    Corbett looked around. They were back on the broad but darkened thoroughfare of Holborn. The stalls had disappeared, the shop fronts were boarded up. Some householders had even placed lantern horns outside their house, the weak flame of the candles fluttering in their protective iron grilles against the cool evening breeze. Two young urchins ran by, screaming and shouting. A bloody-mouthed mastiff tied by a chain to a lintel of a door snarled and barked. Somewhere in a room above them, a woman gently crooned the tune of a lullaby. Corbett could see nothing untoward.
    'You are sure?' he said. 'Maltote, did you see anything?' The serjeant-at-arms looked worried but shook his head. 'I did think we were being followed when we went to the apothecary's, but it was only a child.'
    Two young urchins, their faces completely hidden by hoods, came hurrying by, kicking an inflated pig's bladder before them.
    'There's nothing,' Corbett murmured. 'Nothing at all.'
    They walked up Holborn, across the darkening common which stretched out before the old city walls, into the pestiferous area around Newgate and down towards Cheapside. Now and again they would stop and look around but there was no one following them. They reached Catte Street and Corbett decided they should stay in the tavern where they had stabled their horses.
    'Tomorrow,' he announced, 'we go to Leighton.'
    'And baby Hugh? I'd like to see him!' Ranulf angrily replied.
    Corbett smiled.
    'I'd not forgotten, Ranulf. However, as Scripture says, "Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof." Let's fid our bellies and try the ale.' Corbett looked slyly at Maltote. 'And, who knows, you may teach Ranulf the finer points of