by C. J. Sansom
Lord Parr took her firmly by the shoulders, looking into her swollen face. ‘Hold fast, Kate! You have managed it these last months, do not crumble now. And do not shout.’ He inclined his head to the door. ‘The guard may hear.’
The Queen nodded, and took a number of long, whooping breaths. Gradually, she brought herself under control, forcing her shaking body to be still. She looked at me, ventured a watery smile. ‘I imagine you did not think to see your Queen like this, Matthew?’ She patted her uncle’s hand. ‘There, good my lord. It is over. I am myself again. I must wash my face and get one of the maids to make it up again before I venture outside.’
‘It sore grieves me to see you in such distress, your majesty,’ I said quietly. But a thought had come to me. ‘Lord Parr. You told her majesty that if she shouted the guard might hear?’
The Queen’s eyes widened in alarm. Lord Parr patted her hand. ‘I exaggerated, to calm her. These doors are thick, deliberately so that the Queen may have some privacy. The guard might make out a raised voice, but not each individual word.’
‘What if it was a man who shouted?’ I said. ‘A man with a loud, deep voice, the voice of a preacher, trained to carry far?’
He frowned. ‘No man would dare come here and shout at the Queen.’
But the Queen leaned forward, eyes wide, balling a handkerchief in her palm. ‘Archbishop Cranmer,’ she said. ‘That evening when we argued over the Lamentation, and I resisted his arguments, I shouted and – yes – he shouted, too.’ She gulped. ‘We are good friends, we have discussed matters of faith together many times, and he was very afraid of what could happen if I let the Lamentation become public. How many times must he have feared the fire himself these last dozen years? And he was right, as I realize now.’ She looked at me again. ‘Yes, if the guard outside could have distinguished the words of anyone shouting in here, it would have been the Archbishop’s. Telling me that if I tried to publish the Lamentation now, the King’s anger might know no bounds.’
Lord Parr frowned. ‘He had no right – ’
I said, ‘That was in early June, you told me?’
The Queen nodded. ‘Yes.’ She frowned. ‘The ninth, I think.’
I turned to Lord Parr. ‘My lord, do you know the evening duty hours?’
‘Four till midnight.’
‘It would be interesting to find out who was on duty outside on the night of the argument. Captain Mitchell will have the records.’
The Queen said, aghast, ‘Then Leeman might have been outside when the Archbishop and I argued?’
I spoke with quiet intensity. ‘And could have heard of the existence of the book, and made his plans to steal it. So long as he was able to get a copy of the key. It all rests on that. My Lord, let us find out who was on duty then. And afterwards, I think we should question the carpenter again.’
IT WAS LEEMAN on duty that night; Mitchell confirmed it. That made it almost certain: he had overheard Cranmer and learned of the existence of the Lamentation. Then he had planned, and waited, and bribed. But with what money, I wondered. I felt sure he was not acting alone.
Lord Parr and I left the distraught captain, and took the smaller of the Queen’s two barges to Baynard’s Castle, the rowmen in her livery sculling fast down the Thames, a herald with a trumpet signalling other craft to get out of the way. Mary Odell had been called to the Queen and would be with her in her private apartments now, making her fit to face the public again.
Lord Parr and I sat opposite each other under the canopy. In the sunlight he looked his age, with pale seamed skin and tired eyes. I ventured, ‘My Lord, has her majesty often been – like that?’
He looked me in the eye for a moment, then leaned forward and spoke quietly. ‘A few times, these last months. You have little idea of the control and composure she must have. It has always been one of my niece’s greatest qualities, that control. But underneath she is a woman of powerful feeling, more so as her faith has grown stronger. And since the spring – the questioning of those close to her, the persecutions, the knowledge that the King might turn on her – yes, she has broken down before. In front of me, and Mary Odell, and her sister. She is lucky to have those she can trust.’ He paused and looked at me hard.
‘She can trust me, too, my Lord,’ I said quietly.
He grimaced. ‘For a commoner to see the Queen as you did – well, let us say you are the first. And I pray the last.’ He sat up straight, looking over my shoulder. ‘Here, the Baynard’s Castle steps are close ahead.’
THE TWO OF US had agreed our approach, the words we would use to bring a confession if Barwic was guilty. We had no time to waste. Lord Parr strode through the courtyard and then the central hall, looking stern, all the guards saluting the Queen’s Chancellor in turn. He came to the carpenter’s door and flung it open. Barwic was planing a length of oak – I noticed little pieces of sawdust in his russet beard – while his assistant sanded another. They both looked up at our entrance, the assistant in astonishment and Barwic, I saw, in fear.
Lord Parr slammed the door shut and stood with his arms folded. He inclined his head to the apprentice. ‘Go, boy,’ he said bluntly, and the lad fled with a quick bow. Barwic faced us.
‘Michael Leeman, the thief, is discovered,’ I said, bluntly. ‘And his confederate, Zachary Gawger.’
Barwic stood there for a second, his face expressionless, his wild red hair and beard, flecked with sawdust, looking almost comical. Then, like a puppet, he sank slowly to his knees, lowering his head and clasping his work-roughened hands together. From this position he looked up at the Queen’s Chancellor, the clasped hands trembling.
‘Forgive me, my Lord. At first I only made a copy of the key lest the original be lost. It is not a good thing for a chest containing valuables to have only one key.’
‘So you made another secretly and kept it?’ I asked. ‘Where?’
‘Safe, my Lord, safe. In a locked chest to which only I have the key.’ All the while he did not shift his gaze from Lord Parr’s face.
‘Have you ever done this before?’
Barwic looked at me, then turned back to Lord Parr. ‘Yes, my Lord, forgive me. If ever I am asked to make a lock with only one key, I make a second. I can show you the place I keep them all, show you the keys. It was for security only; security, I swear.’
‘Then how did Leeman get hold of it?’ I asked.
‘Stand up when you answer, churl!’ Lord Parr snapped. ‘I will get a crick in my neck looking down at you.’
Barwic stood, still wringing his hands. ‘He came to see me, near three weeks ago. I did not know him, but he wore the uniform of the Queen’s Guard. He told me the key to the Queen’s chest had been lost, said he had heard I might have another. I – I thought he came on behalf of the Queen, you see—’
Lord Parr brought his hand down on the bench with a bang, sending the plank of wood crashing to the floor. ‘Don’t lie to me, caitiff ! You know well enough a member of the Queen’s Guard would have no authority to demand a key. Especially when you kept the very existence of copies a secret!’
The wretched man swallowed nervously. ‘I let it be known, to certain people, that I made extra copies of keys. Not officially, but you see – if a key was lost, I could provide a replacement for anyone who lost it.’
‘At a price?’
Barwic nodded miserably.
‘How long have you been doing this?’
‘Since I first became the Queen’s carpenter and locksmith twelve years ago. Perhaps half a dozen times I have provided a spare key to a chest or coffer, usually to a lady who has lost hers. But always to someone who is trusted, sir, and nothing has been stolen in all that time as a consequence. Nothing.’
Lord Parr shook his head. ‘Dear God, the Queen’s household has been lax.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed, ‘and Michael Leeman, I would wager, ferreted out where the weak points were. How much did he pay you, Barwic?’
‘Ten sovereigns, sir. I – I couldn’t resi
st.’ I thought, the same bribe as for Gawger. ‘He told me the Queen had gone out and left the key with him for safekeeping and he accidentally dropped it through a gap in the floorboards. He did not want to have them taken up.’
‘Did you believe him?’ Lord Parr’s voice was scornful.
‘I was uncertain, my Lord. I told him to come back on the morrow. In the meantime I asked friends at Whitehall for information on Leeman – had he been there long, was he honest? I was told he was known as an honest man, godly. I wouldn’t just hand out a key to anybody, sir, I swear.’
Lord Parr gave him a look of contempt. ‘No. I imagine you would not, for fear of being hanged. But Michael Leeman was a thief. And you are deep in the mire.’ He looked at me. ‘I will have this man held close at my house for the moment. Come with us, Master Barwic. I’ll put you in the charge of a guard, as a man suspected of conspiracy to rob the Queen. And you don’t say a word about keys. Leeman, and his confederate, are discovered, but Leeman has escaped and you’ll keep all this quiet till he is captured.’
Barwic sank to his knees again. His voice shook. ‘Will – will I hang, sir? Please, would you ask the Queen to show mercy? I have a wife, children – it was all the expenses of being Guild Chairman, the taxes for the war – ’
Lord Parr bent over him. ‘You’ll hang if I have any say,’ he said brutally. ‘Now, come.’
BARWIC WAS PUT in the charge of a guard and led away, sobbing, across Baynard’s Castle yard. Another man whose life now lay in ruins. Some men lifting bolts of silk from a cart turned to look at the weeping prisoner being taken away under guard.
‘Well,’ Lord Parr said quietly. ‘You have taken us far, Serjeant Shardlake. We have the whole story of the theft, the how and the who. But still not the why. And who has the damned manuscript now? And why are they keeping quiet about it?’
‘I do not know, my Lord. My young assistant is trying to trace the maker of that piece of torn sleeve he found near Greening’s print-shop, but for now there are no other leads. We need to catch Greening’s friends.’
He stirred the dust of the courtyard with his foot. ‘I will send Cecil a detailed description of Leeman; I’ll get it from Captain Mitchell. He can add it to those who are to be watched out for.’
‘They will likely try to leave under false names.’
‘Of course they will,’ he said impatiently. ‘But the customs house has the descriptions, and if any of them try to board a ship they will be arrested and held close till I can question them.’ He shook his head. ‘Though they may try to go via Bristol, or Ipswich.’
‘That leaves our enquiries in the Tower,’ I reflected. ‘It may be possible we could find that it was another radical who leaked the truth about Anne Askew. Possibly someone linked to the others.’
He nodded slowly. ‘I certainly smell some sort of radical conspiracy here. I wish I knew what it was about.’
‘Whatever it was, that original group has been attacked and blown apart.’ I looked at him. ‘By internal dissension, or perhaps it could even be that someone in the group was a spy, maybe for someone in the conservative camp.’
His eyes widened. ‘By God, you could be right. Secretary Paget has the main responsibility for employing spies to watch for internal dissension. But others could be doing the same, on their own account. Someone perhaps with a taste for plotting.’
He looked at me. ‘Who are you thinking of?’ I asked. ‘Sir Richard Rich?’
‘He has been assiduous in the heresy hunt.’
I paused, then said, ‘My Lord, I am worried about Greening’s neighbour, the printer Okedene.’
He inclined his head. ‘I think we have got all the information we can out of him.’
‘I was thinking of his safety. Two men have been killed already. I wondered if Okedene might also be at risk; whether our enemies, whoever they are, might try to stop his mouth for good.’
‘He has told us all he knows. He has no further use.’
‘All the same, much is owed to him. Could you not arrange some protection, perhaps a man to lodge in his house?’
‘Do you not understand?’ Lord Parr burst out. ‘I’ve already told you, I do not have the resources! I cannot help him!’ I did not answer, did not dare provoke him further, and he continued. ‘Now, the Tower is next.’
‘Yes, my Lord.’
‘Until he retired recently, the Queen’s Vice Chamberlain, my immediate junior in the Queen’s household, was Sir Edmund Walsingham. He has also been Constable of the Tower of London for twenty-five years.’
‘He combined both jobs?’ I asked in surprise.
‘Both are ceremonial rather than administrative roles. At the Tower the Constable, Sir Edmund, is a very old friend of mine; in fact he is almost as old as me.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Naturally he knows how everything works there. I have arranged to visit him tomorrow at eleven; I could not obtain an earlier appointment, though I tried.’ He looked at me. ‘Now, this is what we shall do. On the pretext that some information is needed for a legal case, we will see if you can get sight of the duty rosters that cover the period when Anne Askew was tortured. Between the twenty-eighth of June, when she was taken there, and the second of July when the rumours first began to fly around London. It will not be easy; I imagine the Tower authorities will be very reticent about what happened. My nephew William, Earl of Essex, tells me no investigation has been ordered by the Privy Council, which is strange. In any event, a good meal and good wine can loosen tongues between friends.’
Eleven o’clock. That would at least allow me time to carry out the Cotterstoke inspection early the next morning. I looked at Lord Parr; the old man’s face had become quite animated at the prospect of progress. But I did not want to visit the Tower again. Five years before, thanks to a conspiracy between Rich and Bealknap, I had briefly been imprisoned there. I wondered whether Lord Parr knew about that. But, I reflected, he probably knew everything about me. He looked back at me quizzically. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘My Lord, forgive me, but the number who know that the Queen has suffered some sort of a theft is growing. News could reach the King. I cannot help wondering – well, whether the Queen might serve her interests best by going now and confessing all to him. He will surely be more merciful than if the book is hawked round the streets and he finds out then that she kept it secret from him.’
Lord Parr rounded on me. In the crowded courtyard he kept his voice low, but his tone was fierce as he spoke. ‘You are not qualified to advise her majesty on such a matter. And remember, great danger still threatens her; it is common knowledge on the Privy Council that there is still something going on, secret talks are occurring between Paget and Gardiner and the King. My nephew William, the Queen’s brother, like most of the Privy Council is outside the circle, but something is afoot that keeps Gardiner looking confident despite the failure of the persecution, that makes him look on with a secret smile when William passes him.’
‘But the book is not heretical,’ I said. ‘And Sir Edward Seymour is expected soon at court, as, I heard, is Lord Lisle. Both are reformers, and in alliance with the Parrs they will be strong—’
‘It is not safe for the Queen to tell the King.’ The old man’s voice shook with anger and I saw the strain on his face. ‘You overstep the mark, sir, by God you do! The alliance between the Parr and Seymour families is none of your business. You know nothing of it, nor of the machinations at court.’ He lowered his voice. ‘But you should have come to realize, after all these years, that the one thing this King will not tolerate is any suspicion of disloyalty.’
‘I only thought to help, my Lord.’
‘Then keep your nose out of matters far above your station. And remember, Master Shardlake, you answer to me alone. Be at the Middle Tower gate at eleven tomorrow, with your horse, and wearing your robe.’ And with that Lord Parr turned and limped away.
I watched him go, the hot sun beating down on my head. Stepping away, I tripped. I righted myself, yet still
the ground seemed to rock under my feet, as it had when the Mary Rose foundered. I closed my eyes. The picture that came to my mind, though, was not the great ship turning over, nor the men falling into the sea, but Anne Askew on fire, Anne Askew’s head exploding.
Chapter Nineteen
NEXT MORNING I SET OUT early again. The last four days had passed in a blur; but if the Queen’s book was to be recovered, time was of the essence. The previous evening I had sent a note to Okedene; I was worried about him. I warned him that Greening’s killers were still at large and urged him to make arrangements for his security. Lord Parr had not authorized me to write, but I felt it my duty nevertheless.
Downstairs, Josephine served my breakfast. I wondered again about her difficulties with Martin Brocket, but she seemed cheerful enough today.
Outside it was warm and sunny again. I remembered I was due for dinner at Coleswyn’s that evening. I would be at the Tower later in the morning and I thought of cancelling the meal, but decided it might be good to have some ordinary human company after that particular visit.
First I called in at chambers. Barak and Skelly were there working already, doing my work as well as their own. Nicholas had left early, Barak said, to continue checking the embroiderers’ shops, having had, apparently, no luck the previous day. His tone was slightly aggrieved; Barak really did not like being kept out of things. I said I was going to the painting inspection, and would also be out in the afternoon now.
