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S ilas forced himself to wait until a civilized hour on Sunday morning to call at Wigton’s flat. He was desperate to know if the solicitor had been able to speak with Ezra, and gain his representation. As well as to know anything else Wigton had been able to discover.

“Come in, Silas,” Wigton said, answering the door himself. “I expected you to show up today.”

“Did you speak with Ezra?”

“I did.” Wigton led him into the lounge, which was free of undergarments and beer glasses. “I located him in the Queen’s Bench prison in Southwark. Because he had a significant sum of cash with him when arrested, he had already been able to establish himself in one of the state rooms, which is fortunate.”

“What are those?”

“One of the rooms in the prison set apart for the better class of prisoners.”

Silas was relieved. He had imagined Ezra in a dank, windowless cell, deprived of all but a cup of water and a crust of bread.

Wigton continued, “He insists he is innocent, and when I told him that you were willing to offer him an alibi, he confirmed all the details you had given me. Independently, of course. But your stories match in almost every detail, which is good.”

“Were you able to get him released?”

Wigton shook his head. “He will appear before a magistrate tomorrow morning to answer to the charges against him. At that time, Richard Pemberton will stand to represent him. According to Mr. Curiel he owns the house in Hackney where he lives with his wife, and can offer that as surety so that he can be released while waiting for trial.”

“That’s excellent,” Silas said. “And I have recruited friends to help discover evidence that could support Ezra’s case.”

He outlined the assignments that Pemberton had given each of them the day before.

“This is all very good,” Wigton said. “You’ll ensure that Pemberton is at the court tomorrow at the appointed time?”

“I will,” Silas said. They talked for a few more minutes, and Silas felt some of his anxiety draining away. Ezra was in a very serious situation, and there were risks to anyone who stood up in his defense, but Silas had faith in the machinery of the court that the truth would come out. He knew it was na?ve, and he had seen several instances where innocent men went to prison, but those men had all been guilty of other crimes, so there was some justice. Ezra was innocent of this charge, he was sure.

He left Wigton’s apartment. He was desperate to talk to his friends, but they all had their individual assignments, and he still had more to do. He walked down Oxford Street where the businesses had already opened, and ladies looked in shop windows and conferred with friends about the latest styles in bonnets and gloves. Where once he would have been jealous of those with money to spend, now he thought them frivolous. A man’s life hung in the balance! What was a new top hat to him?

He entered Holbom, and the tall trees and hidden corners of Lincoln’s Inn Fields beckoned to him. He often strolled over there if he had a few spare minutes to eat his lunch or simply to think, but now he hurried forward to the office at the Inns of Court and let himself in. The buildings were quiet, and he moved his desk closer to the window to sit in the light, and began to look through the law books that lined Pemberton’s office.

The barrister had charged him with finding similar cases, where one person’s actions had inadvertently led to another’s death. Some of the cases he found involved liability. In one, a boat owner had not taken care to ensure his vessel was seaworthy. When it sank in the Thames, he had been charged with the deaths of several passengers.

That wasn’t quite the issue here, but Silas still took notes on it. In another case, two men had been fighting outside a bar over one man’s advances toward the other’s wife. Both had sustained serious injuries, resulting in the death of one man. In that case, Silas felt, both were at fault, and the decision revolved around who had started the fight.

And so it went, book after book, case after case. The best he could come up with was a defense against involuntary manslaughter. According to the law, such a crime occurred when the accused did not intend to cause death or serious injury but caused the death of another throughrecklessnessorcriminal negligence.

As he made note of that, he was surprised by the appearance of Richard Pemberton at the office. “I see you’re hard at work, Silas,” Pemberton said, as he took off his coat. “What have you found so far?”

“I spoke with Mr. Wigton earlier, and he has agreed to take on Ezra’s case. I have added the time of the hearing tomorrow morning to your calendar.”

“Very good.”

“As you suggested, while my friends research other motives and suspects in Walpert’s murder, I turned to how you might construct a defense, if the case were to come to trial. It seems that given the circumstances the charge might be reduced to involuntary manslaughter. Is that your assumption as well?”

“It is. But involuntary manslaughter has two components.”

“Recklessness and criminal negligence,” Silas said.

“Very good. What is the definition of recklessness, then?”

Silas flipped through his notes. “Suppose a man called John dropped a brick off a bridge, and the brick landed on the head of another man, Sebastian, killing him.”

Pemberton nodded. “Go on.”

“If John merely intended to drop the brick, not to kill anyone, then he would not be guilty of recklessness. But if he knew that people were walking beneath him, and there was a chance that his brick could his someone, then dropping the brick would be a reckless act.”

“Exactly. The mens rea , or knowledge of wrongdoing, required for murder does not exist in that case.”

“How would that apply to Ezra?”

“It is difficult to speculate because we are operating on the assumption that Mr. Curiel was not the assailant. But picking up on your example, let’s say this man John hit Mr. Walpert. John is an ordinary man, not a boxer or someone who has undergone training. He hits Mr. Walpert in anger, unaware that he could cause significant damage to Mr. Walpert’s person or cause his death. Then his attack on Mr. Walpert could be a reckless act and considered ‘constructive’ manslaughter.’ The penalty for such a crime would be significantly less than if there is criminal intent.”

Silas hurriedly scribbled down what Pemberton said, knowing that he would have to go back and recopy the writing more clearly.

“How would the state prove criminal intent?” Silas asked.

“As a trained boxer, Mr. Curiel is presumed to understand his own strength, as well as in what ways he can punch or hit an opponent without causing serious injury. If he ignored that understanding in his attack on Mr. Walpert, then the crime would be judged much more serious.”

Silas nodded, and took more notes. “I will need examples of cases that operated under each circumstance,” he said.

“I’ll keep reading and researching.”

“Good lad.” Pemberton had some work of his own to do, and he stayed in the office for an hour. Silas read and took notes all afternoon, until the light began to die and his eyes were tired and his hand sore. Finally he walked home at dusk. Had he done enough that day to help Ezra?

And why did it matter so much to him? That was the greatest puzzle of all. He had learned through painful experience that he could not rely on a lover for much more than a quick roll in the sheets or a wild suck in an alley. Ezra had shown him so much more, accepting Silas’s faults, his flightiness, his love of color and sensual fabric. He risked his livelihood, his marriage, and his reputation to keep coming to Silas’s bed.

Was it just that Silas worshipped his muscles? He had never before been with a man who was so – manly, if he had to use a word. A man who was strong enough to lift him up, to hold him in the air while spearing him from below. Nor had he been with someone who whispered such endearments, and who appeared genuinely pleased simply to see him.

Was that enough to keep them together? What would happen if Ezra was found guilty, or had to flee the country? What would Silas do then?