A Murder of Crows: A Sir Robert Carey Mystery by P. F. Chisholm Page B

he’ll be trying to intimidate the witnesses, I have drafted a writ against him for maintenance to keep in reserve.”
    Carey blinked as if puzzled for a moment and then shouted with laughter. “That old Statute against henchmen?”
    “Old and from Her Majesty’s grandfather’s time, but still on the books. It’s not the oldest statute I shall be citing.”
    “What is?” asked Dodd fascinated, although he had no idea that henchmen were illegal.
    “Edward III 1368,” said Enys. Dodd used his fingers to work it out.
    “It’s two hundred and twenty-four years old,” he said. “What good is that?”
    “It’s a highly important principle,” said Enys, looking annoyed. “You might say it is the foundation of our English liberty. It says that no man may be put to the question or tortured privily without trial or warrant. In effect, habeas corpus.”
    Once again Dodd struggled with foreign language. He supposed they meant something about dead bodies.
    “I don’t recall Mr. Secretary Walsingham paying that much attention to the statute when he was questioning some Papist,” Carey pointed out.
    Enys looked at him distantly. “Sir Robert, it is a fact that a man who murders another for his money may pay no attention to the statutes against murder. It is in the nature of sinful men that they break the law. It is a very different thing to hold that there is no such law to be broken, which Heneage does by his actions.”
    “And if the law be changed in parliament?” asked Carey.
    “If it be changed, then we must abide by the new law,” said Enys. “But this law has not been changed nor repealed. It was excluded from matters of treason and the Henry VIII statute of Praemunire made many religious matters into treason. Therefore Mr. Secretary Walsingham could and did rightly ignore the statute since he was seeking out Papist traitors against Her Majesty and the Commonweal of England.”
    Carey nodded while Dodd stared in fascination to hear such a young man speak in such long and complicated sentences, using such pompous words. Now the lawyer lifted one finger in a lecturing manner. “However, this is not a matter of treason at all. Sergeant Dodd was neither guilty of nor accused of any crime whatsoever when Mr. Vice falsely imprisoned and assaulted him. There was a fortiori no trial and no warrant. I have seldom heard of such a clear case.”
    “Ay,” said Dodd, catching up with most of the last part of the speech, “that’s right.” His head was buzzing with the legal talk.

“Perhaps Mr. Vice will simply claim that he was looking for me and laid hold of my henchman to track me down,” said Carey.
    “I’m sure he will,” said Enys. “However the fact remains that you were not accused of treason either, Sir Robert. Even your brother was accused only of coining, which may indeed come under the treason laws as petty treason…”
    Dodd stretched his eyes at that. Was coining treason? Did Richie Graham with his busy unofficial mint know about it? Did he care?
    “…but it is not a direct attack upon her Majesty nor upon the Commonweal of England. And in point of fact, if what you have told me is correct, I believe that Mr. Heneage may be vulnerable to a charge of coining and uttering false coin himself, with your brother and the apothecary Mr. Cheke as witnesses against him.”
    Carey whistled through his teeth. “I thought we couldn’t prove that?”
    Enys shrugged. “Heneage will bring oath-swearers to disagree but it will depend on the judge. It’s arguable. At this stage it doesn’t have to be provable.”
    They came to Westminster steps and jumped out—Enys seemed clumsy again and hesitant as he stepped onto the boat landing at just the wrong time. He might have wound up in the Thames without a quick shove from Dodd.
    “Thank you, sir,” he muttered, looking embarassed. “I am still weakened by my sickness.”
    “Ay, but your face is healed?” said Dodd, immediately worried because he had