I covered my face in my hands. And despite my best efforts, I began to weep.

When I was recovered I rubbed my face and sat up. Eliot had not tried to comfort me, or offered any words of kindness, but his expression had softened a little. He picked up the crumpled broadsheet and smoothed it across his knee. 'We must counter this. Give me something to tell the town. Let them hear your defence.' He hesitated, cleared his throat. 'Mr Defoe has offered to visit you and write of your story . . .'

Daniel Defoe. Well, he had written Jack Sheppard's story and made a tidy profit from it too.

'He is inclined to believe in your innocence,' Eliot said. 'The prosecution's case is weak. You are being tried by the town, Hawkins. Defoe could turn them about. Remember how the mob protected him when he was in the pillory? He wishes to speak with you and with Kitty-'

'No.' I sprang to my feet. If Fleet suspected that I'd engaged Daniel Defoe to tell the real story of Burden's murder, Kitty's life would be forfeit and so would mine. 'I forbid it,' I said fiercely. 'Do you understand, Eliot? Do not speak further with Mr Defoe, nor to anyone else.'

Eliot rose from the chair, baffled and frustrated. 'What ails you, sir? Kitty is convinced of your innocence, and yet you act as if you are guilty.' He sighed, puffing out his fat cheeks. 'I have practised law for over thirty years. I know when a man is hiding something. I am your lawyer, sir. I am bound to keep your secrets safe. You must trust me. You must tell me everything or else I cannot help you.'

It was tempting. My G.o.d, how I longed to unburden myself at last. Holding in the truth was making me ill. My dreams were nightmares and my waking hours were worse. But I couldn't risk it. What if he told Kitty? What if he even hinted at the truth?

'There is nothing to tell. I am innocent. That is all.'

Eliot's shoulders sagged. 'I will visit again in the morning-'

'-No. No more visits, sir. I thank you, but we have no more to discuss.'

'Mr Hawkins! Your trial is set for the day after tomorrow . . .'

'I am quite aware of the date, sir.'

Eliot frowned. 'I think you are determined to hang,' he said, defeated. 'Well. Eat some supper, at least. And call for a barber, for G.o.d's sake. The jury expects to see a young gentleman on Thursday, not Robinson Crusoe.'

He left, no doubt cursing me under his breath. And who was I to Eliot, after all? Kitty's idle, drunken beau, a f.e.c.kless rake who would squander her fortune if he could only get his hands upon it. He didn't know the iron core that ran through me. Obstinate. Wilful. My father's favoured words for me as a child. I could waft happily through life when it suited me, but when I had set my mind upon something I could not yield ever.

Still, Eliot's visit had not been without value. I could not risk selling my story to Mr Defoe, but if I might concoct a way to write it myself in secret, with close instructions for its safekeeping . . . The thick, dank fog of melancholy that had surrounded me ever since I had arrived at Newgate dissolved a little. My future was no longer mine to shape it rested in the hands of twelve men and one woman. But the past still belonged to me.

And so the day came for my trial Thursday 26th February. I took Eliot's advice and called at dawn for the prison barber. He grumbled when he saw the thick black stubble that covered my scalp and face I had not been shaved since my arrest. It took him a half-hour and three pa.s.ses with the blade before he was done, and he charged double the usual fee for his trouble. Once he had left I dressed in my sober black waistcoat and breeches. I had no mirror and could only guess at my appearance. Judging from the way the clothes hung from my frame, I supposed I must be an alarming sight, gaunt and haggard. My eyes felt raw from lack of sleep. Well, there was nothing to be done and indeed it would appear odd if I bounded bright-eyed into court.

My hands began to tremble as I wound my cravat and so I paused and sat down upon the bed. I had never felt so alone as in this hour. All my life I had sought the company of others, happy in a large, boisterous crowd. Now there was only silence and a cold cell. My friends were gone or unable to help. My family were many miles away. My sister had written several letters and I had wept over them all, knowing that she if no one else would always believe in my innocence. But how I'd shamed her! How would she ever find a husband now, with such an infamous brother? My dear sister Jane always so good to me. And here was her reward. I closed my eyes and imagined myself home, walking the old coastal path, the sea sparkling beneath an endless sky. A taste of salt and clean air on my tongue.

Someone began to play the fiddle in a neighbouring cell and voices filled the air, new words set to an old ballad.

Tom Hawkins was a parson's son With evil in his heart A deed most wicked he has done And so he'll ride the cart.

He stabbed Jo Burden with his blade The blood is on his hands A noose old Hooper he has made The gentleman will hang.

The key rattled in the lock and Mr Rewse stepped into the cell, a set of iron chains slung over his shoulder. He had let me live unfettered these past weeks, but now I must be chained again for all the world to see. I rose and let him fix the manacles to my wrists. This is a play, I told myself. Act the part you have been given and you will be spared. They led me through the ward, my fellow prisoners shouting and joking to one another as I pa.s.sed. I had not tried to win friends in Newgate, keeping to my cell as much as possible. I had not repented, nor had I fallen in with the lower sorts who drank and wh.o.r.ed their way to the gallows. Worst of all, I had continued to protest my innocence, which infuriated the good and the wicked alike. So there was no fellow-feeling as I walked through the gaol. They sang my ballad again to send me on my way, while the turnkeys chuckled to themselves.

I comforted myself with the knowledge that Budge was still endeavouring to secure my release. He had written again, briefly, to say that his mistress would prefer the matter to be resolved at trial and hoped that I would be set free without her aid. I wished that too, in the way one might wish one could fly or pluck gold coins from the air. Wishing would not make it so.

We took a pa.s.sage beneath the street, connecting the prison to the Old Bailey. My chains clinked as we walked, the sound echoing through the tunnel. Eliot stood waiting for us at the other end.

'You look ill, sir.'

'You would have me skipping like a spring lamb, I suppose?'

'The King's Council has called Kitty to testify.'

I stared at him in horror. He seemed to draw some comfort from my reaction proof that I was at least decent enough to care for Kitty's reputation. 'She wishes to speak in your defence. You may call her as a witness.'

I shook my head. G.o.d knows what she would be prepared to say in order to save me. Eliot sighed, as if he had expected my response. He seemed so dejected that on impulse I clasped his hands. 'Thank you, sir, for all you have done.'

He gave an exasperated laugh, as if to say you have let me do nothing.

'You are a good man, Mr Eliot. And an excellent lawyer.'

'Aye . . .' He glanced towards the courtroom, where the judge and jury waited. 'But what sort of a man are you, Hawkins? I fear I cannot tell.'

And so we entered the court and the world knows what happened next. I will not write of it here. To place myself in that room again, the sweat pouring down my back, mouth dry, barely able to breathe with fear . . . and all about me the rows of spectators, half of them old acquaintances, all craning to get the best view as if this were the theatre and not my life. James Fleet was there, tucked quietly in the shadows, to be sure I behaved.

And on the front row, Charles Howard, face set throughout in grim, glowering concentration. When at last it was over and the verdict came down, he rose and picked up his hat, pushing past his neighbours to reach the aisle. I pa.s.sed not two feet from him as the guards led me in chains back to prison. He smiled, teeth bared, but it was his eyes that I remembered, alone in my cell. Those terrible eyes, gleaming in cold triumph.

Part Five.

. . .the Prisoner was brought to the Bar at 9 in the Morning, a very great and extraordinary Audience present; diverse Gentlemen of Distinction and a Crowd of Ladies. The Prisoner pleaded Not Guilty as at his Arraignment.

The Council for the Crown open'd the Indictment; setting forth, That the said Thomas Hawkins, gentleman and former Student of Divinity, being a Person of inhuman and cruel Disposition did a.s.sault and Murder the said Joseph Burden in the Unfortunate Victim's own bed; and that the Prisoner did Stab him nine times with a great Dagger. And that the Prisoner did wound the said Joseph Burden with a fierce cut to the Heart, plunging the Blade to the very hilt and drawing forth great Geysers of Blood, by which the aforementioned soon died.

The King's Council proceeded to open, That the Prisoner at the Bar was well known to hold a great Loathing and Hatred of his Neighbour, and had been witnessed upon several occasions threatening to Strike and Murder the Unfortunate Deceas'd.

The Council continued, That the Prisoner had every means of entering his neighbour's home, which was upon Russell Street, having constructed a Secret and Ingenious Door between the attics, granting him Access whenever he so Wished. And thus the Prisoner had entered into the home of his Unfortunate Victim and murder'd him in an act most callous and cunning.

Following this Brutal Act the Prisoner compounded his crime and with Great Wickedness sought to place Suspicion upon innocent parties: Stephen Burden the son of the Deceas'd, Judith Burden who was his Daughter and Ned Weaver, his apprentice. That thus, despite a childhood bless'd with good Fortune and the best of Educations, the Prisoner shew'd himself to be not only a Cold and Pitiless murderer but also a Coward and a Liar, having no decency or honour.

To prove the Indictment, the Council for the King called several Witnesses.

The first was Judith Burden, daughter of the unfortunate deceas'd, who swore that Hawkins had threatened her Father upon several occasions. She depos'd that she had discovered the body of Joseph Burden on the morning of the 12th of January.

Being asked by the King's Council, Was he dead? She reply'd Aye, Aye and with a Knife in his Heart. At this she broke down. The Court call'd for a Cordial to ease her Nerves. When she was recover'd the King's Council asked, And what thoughts came to you when you saw your Father dead? And the witness reply'd that she thought Mr Hawkins had murder'd him, as he had promis'd. At which she broke down again.

The Prisoner at the Bar ask'd permission to question the Witness but the Court deemed that she was too much Distress'd, and that the Prisoner had question'd her close enough when he was at Liberty, to no avail. This Answer drew great Approval from the Audience gathered.

Stephen Burden, son of the Deceas'd, deposed that he heard the Prisoner threaten his Father on diverse occasions. That his Father held the strong conviction that Hawkins was a Violent and Dangerous man who frequent'd Brothels and Gaming Houses and consort'd with base Company, and that he was most Vex'd by his arrival in the neighbourhood. Being asked if his Father was afraid of the Prisoner, the Witness replied that he was, mortally afraid.

Hawkins asked the Witness if he had ever seen him strike his father, or shew any violence towards him. The Witness conceded he had not.

Hawkins. And did your Father not strike you often, and your sister?

The Witness did not answer. When prompt'd by the Court he replied, Aye, but only for my Instruction and I am glad of it now.

Ned Weaver, a Carpenter and Apprentice to the Deceas'd, confirmed that the Body was discover'd by Judith Burden. He testify'd that the Prisoner had threaten'd his Master, but added that he was not himself, having taken a great deal of Liquor. He describ'd the Secret Pa.s.sage between the Houses and agreed that the Prisoner had both the Wit and the Opportunity to kill Joseph Burden. The Witness added he did not believe there was ample Proof, nor did he believe it was in the Prisoner's Nature to Commit such a Foul deed. The Court interject'd that this was for the Jury to decide, and asked the Witness to step down.

The King's Council then call'd upon Diverse members of the Neighbourhood, including Hannah Jenkins, a Baker's Wife, Everett Felblade, an Apothecary and Joshua Purchase, a Gamester. All testified that the Prisoner had threatened great Violence against the Deceas'd and that there was the strongest Animosity between them. Purchase deposed that the Prisoner was well known about the Town as a Rake and a Gambler, who consort'd with lewd women and common Wh.o.r.es.

Hawkins asked if the Witness were not describing himself and half the Town with it, which drew much Laughter from the lower sorts in the Gallery. The Court called for Order.

Felblade, ask'd if he agreed with his Neighbour's testimony, said that in his Opinion all men were capable of Murder and Mr Hawkins no more than most.

Mrs Jenkins testify'd that after the Murder the Prisoner had impos'd himself upon the Family, Interrogating them in a Cold and Arrogant fashion. The Prisoner also insisted upon searching the House in a most Unseemly manner, causing great Distress to the poor Children of the Deceas'd. The King's Council asked, Did the Prisoner Discover anything of Note to aid his Investigation?

Mrs Jenkins. He did not, Sir. And I hope he is Asham'd of his Wickedness.

The next Witness called was Mr Gonson, Magistrate for the Borough of Westminster and member of the Society for the Reformation of Manners. He testify'd in clear and well-doc.u.mented terms how he had come to suspect the Prisoner and had indeed Detain'd him and question'd him closely upon the Matter.

Hawkins interjected, asking the Witness if he had not arrested him without just cause and subsequently order'd him chained to a wall and left for many Hours without food or water. The Witness replied that this was Regrettable but that the Prisoner had resisted his Arrest.

Hawkins. And for that I should be tortur'd and left to die of Thirst? To which the Witness acknowledg'd that he should have provided Water, but that the Circ.u.mstances had been of such an Extraordinary Nature he hoped the Court would forgive this brief lapse in Duty.

Hawkins. Pray tell me, Sir, upon G.o.d's oath, is the Evidence for this Case enough to Judge me?

Gonson. I believe that you are Guilty, sir.

Hawkins. It is not a question of Belief, sir. Is the Evidence sound?

After a long pause, the Witness answer'd that in his View, it could not perhaps be termed sound in its entirety. He added that the Prisoner had the Cunning and the Ability to make himself appear Innocent, when the World knew he was Guilty. He Describ'd to the Court how the Prisoner had defy'd the Law, escaping his just Imprisonment by calling upon powerful Friends.

Hawkins. If I have such Friends, why do I stand here Today?

Gonson. Perhaps they have Forsaken you, sir.

The Witness added that the Prisoner had been given Opportunity and Good Fortune and chosen to Squander these gifts. That he was a Man of diverse good parts and that his Disgrace was all the more Shocking for it. He suggest'd that the Prisoner was a stern Lesson for all young Men attract'd to a life of Dissipation and Sin. He counsell'd Hawkins to look upon this Trial as preparation for the Greater Trial he must face in the next life, or else risk d.a.m.nation. He urged the Prisoner to Confess and Repent and throw himself upon G.o.d's infinite Mercy.

The Prisoner stated once more that he was Innocent, and that it was not his Soul nor his Nature that was on trial. That he must be Judged upon the Evidence alone and that, as a man of the Law, the Witness had himself agreed there was no Case to Answer.

Gonson observed that the Prisoner shewed more Industry and Wit in Court than he had in life, and lamented a Life wasted in Gambling, Drinking and Carnal Pleasure.

The Prisoner reply'd with a pert Remark, which the Court struck from the Records.

The Council for the King then called Alice Dunn, a maid in the house of the Deceas'd at the time of the Murder. She confirmed that Judith Burden discovered the Body, but seemed most Agitated and Reluctant to answer the Questions put to her by the King's Council, which led to a severe Reprimand from the Court. Thus Chasten'd she confessed that the Prisoner knew of the Pa.s.sage between the houses.

King's Council. Is it true you have since left the Household to act as servant for the Prisoner at the Bar?

Alice Dunn. Sir, I was hired by Mistress Sparks, who has treated me with great Kindness.

King's Council. Is it not the Case that you Seduc'd your old Master? Was not that the reason Miss Burden ask'd you to leave the household?

Alice Dunn. Sir, my Reputation- King's Council. -The Witness will answer the Question.

The Prisoner at the Bar interjected, asking what Relevance this was, and that the Witness was not on Trial. He appealed to the Court that he had no wish for a Respectable young woman to be abus'd on his Account. After some Deliberation the Court order'd Alice Dunn to step down and the King's Council called its final Witness, Catherine Sparks.

Being ask'd how she came to know the Prisoner, the Witness reply'd, We met in the Marshalsea gaol.

King's Council. And you now live under the same Roof, at great Risk to your Reputation?

The Witness reply'd that it was her own house and that she might invite whoever she pleased to live in it with her.

King's Council. Do you share your Bed with the Prisoner at the Bar?

Cath. Sparks. That is no Business of yours, sir.

King's Council. It is well known about the Neighbourhood that you are a Notorious wh.o.r.e.

Cath. Sparks. If it is well known, why do you ask?

King's Council. The Witness will- Cath. Sparks. -It is well known that the King's Council visits the [comment struck from the Record] three times a Week and likes to [comment struck from the Record] while being [comment struck from the Record].

The Court called for Order.

The King's Council moved that the Witness Catherine Sparks be arrested following the Trial and Whipped for her Insolence.

The Witness observed that the King's Council was most Preoccupied with Flogging and [comment struck from the Record].

The Court ask'd the Witness if she were a Relative of Nathaniel Sparks, the celebrated Physician.

Cath. Sparks. He was my Father, sir.

The Court noted that he was a man of Honour and that it was a great Calamity to see his Daughter in such a Grave and Lamentable situation.

The Witness thanked the Court but declar'd that she was quite Content with her Life, save for her current Woes. She spoke at length of the Prisoner's Kind and Gentle acts towards her and diverse Others and swore that he was Innocent. She insist'd that the Prisoner was not capable of such a b.l.o.o.d.y deed and that on the Night of the Murder he was in her Company at all times and Cou'd not have Done it.

The Prisoner interjected, reminding the Witness that she was speaking upon Oath and must not Perjure herself on his Behalf.

The Witness answer'd with great Vehemence that she was right Glad that the Prisoner troubled himself to Speak to her and was it not a Shame that he had not reply'd to her letters, and had refus'd to Meet with her despite her Many and Various requests to do so, giving no Consideration to her own Feelings upon the Matter, and moreover was it not a Folly that it took a Trial at the Old Bailey before he would speak two words to her and only then to Accuse her of Lying and so make further Trouble for them Both, and that she call'd upon the whole Court to Witness that the Prisoner had thus shew'd himself to be a Witless Fool and had indeed no Capacity for Murder not only because he had, she must concede, a Good Heart, but also a Muddled Head, to a Degree that was Vexing beyond all Measure, and it was truly a wonder he had surviv'd this long, and a marvel indeed that she yet cared a great deal for him G.o.d help her and begged that the Jury would Judge the case by its facts and not by the Prisoner's Behaviour, which was Perplexing and Infuriating in equal Parts. And she ask'd the said Prisoner if he had turn'd mad, and should be locked in Bedlam instead of Newgate, and did he not see that her Heart was Broken? At which point she Wept most Piteously, and the Prisoner seem'd much affected, though he did not Reply.

The King's Council, who had failed to Interrupt this testimony at Several Junctures, took this opportunity to dismiss the Witness, who was led away by Alice Dunn.

The Court observ'd that it was a great Pity to see such a spirited young woman ruined by a Black-Hearted villain, and that here was Instruction for any foolish Strumpet who had fallen into evil company. The Court then spoke thus: Prisoner, you hear the Charge and Evidence against you; now you stand up on your Defence.

Prisoner. My Lord: notwithstanding what has been sworn against me, I am Innocent. I confess I did threaten the deceas'd but this was done in a moment of ill humour and under much provocation and also Liquor. The deceas'd had spread Vile lies about the Town and had threaten'd to Destroy me. I am Guilty of speaking Violence, my Lord, but not of committing it. Indeed I have an abhorrence of Violence. I could no more stab a man than plunge the Blade into my own Heart.

My Lord, the King's Council has offer'd no proof that I committed the Act, only Rumour and Conjecture. I swear upon my Soul that I am Not Guilty and beg that the Jury considers the Facts and does not Judge me upon my Character, for I own that I have not always Behav'd with Good Judgement, and should I be spared will Strive to be a better Man, G.o.d help me.

The Court asked if the Prisoner still believed the Murder was committed by one of the children of the Deceas'd, or by Ned Weaver, his Apprentice?

The Prisoner reply'd that he did not. He acknowledg'd that in his Desire to prove his Innocence he had caused Distress, and express'd his Apologies to the family. He added that it was his belief that a House breaker had stolen in and disturb'd the Victim, and so murder'd him in cold blood.

Council for the King. And how does the Prisoner account for the Doors and Windows being barred and lock'd?

Hawkins. I cannot account for it, sir. I am at a loss. But I swear I am Innocent.