Page 127

The ink had faded, but I recognized the handwriting immediately.

One word.

Robin.

My hands began shaking. "It's his."

Guy leaned closer.

"Are you certain?"

"I'd know my father's handwriting anywhere." I stared at my name. "He wrote this for me."

My throat tightened. "He stood here, knowing they were coming for him, and he hid this in the wall. Then he wrote my name on it."

Guy rested his hand against my back.

"Then let's find out what he wanted you to know."

We returned to the shelter of the yew tree. I tried to open the cylinder, but my hands were still shaking too badly to manage the cap.

Guy took it from me and worked it loose. Inside were four documents, rolled tightly together.

Despite the years they'd spent hidden in the wall, the papers were dry and in remarkably good condition. Guy unfolded the first sheet.

I watched his expression change as he read.

"This is it."

"What?"

"The rest of the financial record."

He held the page closer to the light.

"Your father's earlier letter identified the shortfall from the four shires. This tells us where the money went."

I moved beside him.

"Seven thousand one hundred and forty marks," he continued. "Transferred through eleven separate warrants over fourteen months. Four private accounts at two London banking houses."

He pointed to the figures.

"He's recorded the warrant numbers, dates, and names associated with every account."

"Whose names?"

"Two of the officers mentioned in his letter."

Guy paused. "And Fitzwalter's wife's brother."

I stared at him.

"Can he dispute it?"

"Not easily. These are Crown warrant numbers. The originals should still be recorded in the Exchequer rolls, and the banking houses will have their own records."

He looked at me. "If we can put those records together, we'll have proof that the money was diverted."