by C. J. Sansom
‘Superstition.’
‘Yes. We will be in London in a few days.’ He smiled, his old wicked smile. ‘Then Sir Edward will have a merry time in the Tower.’
‘Is he well?’
‘Well enough. Do you know, he cried like a woman when I told him we had left Spurn Head behind. Said it was because he would never see Yorkshire again. I told him they may nail his quarters over the York gates once they are done with him.’
I shook my head. ‘You have no pity for him, have you?’
Radwinter shrugged. ‘In my work it does not do to have pity. You said I was mad once –’ his eyes glinted and I saw that indeed he had not forgotten that – ‘but to be a gaoler of traitors and heretics and be soft-hearted with them, that would be madness. Nor would it be God’s will.’
‘God’s will is torture and bloodshed?’
‘Where necessary to preserve true religion.’ He looked at me with contemptuous pity. ‘Have you not read your Testament, all the blood and battles? The world God made is full of violence and we must work in that world. The King knows that, he is not afraid of harshness.’
‘Does it not say somewhere the meek shall inherit the earth?’
‘Not until the strong have made it safe.’
‘When will that be? When the quarters of the last papist are nailed above York’s gates?’
‘Perhaps. You have to be strong to do right in this world, Master Shardlake. You have to be ruthless, as ruthless as our enemies.’
I turned away. Sergeant Leacon was walking towards me. He gave Radwinter a look of distaste, then turned to me. ‘Master Shardlake, good day.’
‘Good day, sergeant. I called Radwinter mad once,’ I said in a low voice. ‘He seems more so every time I see him.’
Leacon nodded. ‘I have been put over him now, by Sir William.’ He looked at Radwinter, who had gone over to the rail and stood looking out to sea. ‘I think Sir William has lost trust in him; he did not deal well with what happened in York.’
‘No. It was outside his experience, I think.’
‘He hates losing his authority. I see him looking at me sometimes and think he would like to kill me.’
‘Not long now till we reach home, with luck. How is Broderick? Radwinter said he cried when he heard we were out of sight of Yorkshire.’
‘Ay. He has been quiet since then.’ He hesitated. ‘When he saw you he asked to talk to you for a minute.’
I glanced to where Broderick stood, looking out to sea, ignoring the soldiers. I sighed. ‘Very well. For a minute.’
Leacon looked over at his men. ‘Move away there. And stand up straight, can’t you?’ He turned to me as they stepped away from Broderick. ‘Maleverer gave me two of the surliest idiots in the troop to guard Broderick. I’ve already had to dock the pay of one for being drunk.’
Broderick turned to me as I approached. His thin face was drawn with pain above his yellow unkempt beard, which, like his long hair, glinted with spray. He looked more like a little old man than a young one. As he turned to me he winced as he moved his left arm.
‘What ails your arm?’
‘The rack.’ He looked at me. The wildness had gone from his eyes, he seemed strangely calm. There had been some change in his state of mind since I saw him last.
‘I hear you were nearly killed at Howlme,’ he said quietly. ‘By Bernard Locke’s fiancée.’
‘Yes.’
‘I knew Locke a little. He is a man to get a woman to do his bidding. I wanted you to know it was nothing to do with me. Maleverer questioned me about it. He used forceful methods.’
‘I am sorry for it. And I know Jennet Marlin acted alone.’ I hesitated. ‘We never found the papers she took. If it was she that took them.’
He did not answer.
‘I wonder if it was someone else who stole them, whether perhaps they are in the hands of the conspirators now. Maleverer thinks I am a fool.’
He met my gaze evenly, but still said nothing.
‘I am right, aren’t I? You know?’
Again, no reply. I sighed and changed the subject.
‘So, you are sorry Jennet Marlin tried to kill me?’
‘Yes. I would not have you die. You have shown me kindness in your way.’
I looked at him. ‘Yet if it served your purposes you would kill me, would you not?’
‘Not with pleasure,’ he said in an oddly matter-of-fact way. ‘I view no one’s death with pleasure. Even where it may be necessary. Nor would you, I think.’
‘Mistress Marlin spoke of necessary deaths. I do not like the idea that anyone’s death is necessary.’
‘Mine is.’ He gave his old sardonic smile. ‘You accepted that, or you would not have taken the mission from Cranmer to look after my welfare.’
I sighed.
‘Why did you do it? You do not belong with a company of brutes like Maleverer and Radwinter.’
‘I let myself become obligated to the Archbishop.’
He nodded, then said, ‘They will not make me talk in London.’
‘They will, Broderick,’ I answered quietly.
‘No.’ A faint smile, one that chilled me, the smile of one who has secret knowledge. He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘They will not. And remember, Master Shardlake, what I told you once. The time of the Mouldwarp is almost over.’ He looked at me sadly. ‘You know, I think you could have been one of us. You may be yet.’
I turned away. Sergeant Leacon was standing nearby.
‘I have never seen him so calm,’ I told him.
‘He is in a strange mood. Did he say anything of importance?’
‘He said they will not break him.’
‘They will.’
‘I know.’
I walked away to the hatch. Radwinter was still leaning over the rail, staring out to sea.
THAT EVENING, after supper eaten from bowls on the deck, I sat on the bench as the sun sank below the horizon. The sea was quiet, only a little swell. A red sun, in a sky that had begun to fill with clouds. I hoped more bad weather was not coming. Tamasin had gone to her cabin and Barak was talking to a group of servants a little way off.
There was more of a wind now, enough to make some headway. I was glad, for I was increasingly worried about Giles, who still spent most of his time asleep in his cabin. All around dim forms, huddled against the evening cold, dozed or spoke quietly or played at cards or chess. The moon rose, a silvery line on the sea. A man swathed in furs came up the stair-ladder from below to take the air. Beneath a jewelled cap I recognized the thin features of Richard Rich. He walked down the deck, head sunk on his chin, thinking. The sailors working on deck moved quickly out of his way as he passed. Then he walked up the deck again. As he reached the bench where I sat his eyes held mine for a second. Then he gave his little smile, turned and walked away again. He descended the steps, his footsteps fading away. When he had gone I rose. Barak came over to me.
‘That arsehole.’
‘Ay.’ I was pleased by his concern.
‘Did he say anything?’
‘No, just gave me an evil look. I think I will go down.’
‘Ay, it is getting cold.’
‘I feel colder still for seeing Rich.’
Below decks all was quiet. As I passed Broderick’s cell, though, I noticed with surprise that the two soldiers standing outside were drinking beer from a flagon they were passing between them. Seeing me, the one holding it tried to hide it behind his back. I frowned and went on to my room. As I was settling on to my bunk I heard raised voices outside. I rose and quickly opened the door. Other doors were opening, people looking out.
‘What in God’s name do you think you are doing?’ It was Sergeant Leacon’s voice, furious. The two soldiers stood red-faced, one holding the flagon at his side. The sergeant kicked it out of his hand and it crashed on the floor, the beer spilling out. The soldier staggered.
‘God’s wounds, you’ll suffer for this. You’ll both come with me to Maleverer, now.�
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The soldiers paled. The door to the cell opened and Radwinter looked out. ‘What in hell is going on?’ he snapped.
Leacon turned to him, red-faced. ‘These churls are drinking on duty. I’m taking them to Maleverer.’ And with that he grabbed the two men by the collars and marched them away. Radwinter watched him go, smiling at his rival’s discomfiture. I shut my door before he saw me.
A ROUGH HAND, shaking me hard. I opened my eyes, blinking. Someone holding a lamp. My cabin door was open. Outside, voices were murmuring excitedly. I sat up, and found myself looking into Maleverer’s grim face. In the shadows behind him I saw Barak in his shirt, his hair tousled.
‘Wake up!’ Maleverer snapped his fingers angrily in my face. ‘Come on! Get up!’
I rose to my feet. In the doorway I saw Giles, clutching blankets around his big form and looking bemused, and Tamasin with Barak’s coat draped round her. Maleverer turned and shouted at them and the other people who had wakened and come into the corridor.
‘Get back to bed!’ he bawled. ‘I’ll have the lot of you arrested!’
‘What is this commotion?’ Giles asked, a new querulousness in his voice.
‘Come back to bed, Master Wrenne,’ Tamasin said. She took his arm and led him away. Other doors closed. Barak alone stayed in the doorway. Maleverer turned back to me.
‘You spoke to Broderick yesterday,’ he rasped. ‘What did he say to you?’
My heart jumped as I remembered Broderick’s words: you could have been one of us. I think you may be yet. ‘I – nothing of note,’ I said. ‘I tried to question him about Jennet Marlin but he made no answer, as usual. What has happened?’
‘I’ll show you. Come with me.’
He shouldered his way out of the cabin. I got up; fortunately I had gone to bed in my shirt and hose. ‘What is it?’ I asked Barak.
‘I don’t know. I was woken up by voices and footsteps down there.’ He nodded down the corridor to Broderick’s cell. To my surprise the door was ajar. Radwinter sat slumped on the floor outside, his head in his hands, Sergeant Leacon standing over him.
‘Here!’ Maleverer called. I followed him reluctantly down the corridor. He threw open the door of Broderick’s cell and stood aside. Barak had followed me; I felt warmed by the fact he was still loyal.
The cell was one of the larger rooms, a bunk against each wall and some space between. In that space Broderick hung from the ceiling. He was bare to the waist; his shirt had been twisted into a thick length of material and one end slung over a large beam. The other end had gone round his neck. He was dead, his body swinging in the light swell, the chains that bound his arms and legs making a slight rattle. His feet hung two or three inches above the floor. If he had been any taller he could not have done it in the low cabin. His eyes were closed and his head was bent over at a sickening angle. I looked away from his emaciated, lacerated chest. ‘Dear God.’ I looked at Maleverer. ‘How —’
‘The soldiers got drunk. Leacon brought them to me and I sent them to sleep it off. They’ll suffer later. He and Radwinter were left alone to guard Broderick. Later Leacon came to me to discuss what was to be done with the soldiers. When he came back Radwinter was lying on the ground by the bench. Radwinter says someone knocked on the door. When he stepped out he saw no one there, then someone struck him from behind, knocked him out, stole his keys, then unlocked the chains and killed Broderick.’ He stepped over to Radwinter, who looked up at him. He seemed stunned, confused. Ironically, that made him look normal, human, for the first time since I had known him.
‘Couldn’t he have killed himself?’ I asked.
‘No.’ Maleverer almost snarled. He had lost his prisoner, this would go hard for him. ‘Look at his wrists, they’re manacled together behind him, there’s only six inches of chain between them. Broderick was manacled if ever he was left alone, precisely so he could not harm himself. Someone helped him to this. They tied the rope to the rafter, helped Broderick to stand on the bed, got the rope round his neck. Then he jumped.’
I nodded. ‘Yes.’ I made myself look at the body again. ‘And his helper pulled on his feet when he was dangling, to break his neck and stop him from strangling slowly. They were merciful. They helped him kill himself. He did it after all.’ I looked at Broderick’s face again. It was turned slightly away, his expression oddly peaceful. At last he had shut us all out, for ever.
‘Radwinter’s story doesn’t add up, to me,’ Maleverer said, glowering down at the gaoler. ‘He says he was hit on the head from behind but I see no mark of a blow.’ He addressed Radwinter. ‘I am placing you under arrest for the murder of your prisoner. And by God, when we get to London we will find out why, one way or another.’
Radwinter stared up at him, then let out a terrible sound, somewhere between a screech and a moan. Maleverer nodded to Leacon. ‘Lock him up, then take the body down. And by Jesu, you and your men will have to make answer too, for this mess.’ Maleverer turned to me. ‘So that’s it,’ he hissed. ‘The last chance of finding out more about the conspirators. Gone!’
But it had not been Radwinter, I was sure. Maleverer merely needed a culprit and he had found one. I realized something that set my heart hammering against my ribs. I had been right that it was not Jennet Marlin who had knocked me out at King’s Manor. It was someone else. They were on this ship, and now they had helped Broderick die.
Chapter Forty
BAD WEATHER HIT US next morning, rain and wind and heavy seas that had the passengers retching all over the ship. After lunch the rain stopped, and I came up and sat alone on the bench on deck, looking out at the heaving grey wastes of the German Ocean. Mountainous seas heaved and rolled, giant waves capped with white foam, the sky only slightly less dark than the sea. I watched a herring gull swoop above the water. How did they survive out here, I wondered.
I had felt a need to be alone, to get away from the shocked, anxious atmosphere that Broderick’s death and Radwinter’s arrest had created below decks. I could not rid myself of the memory of Broderick’s face, turned away as he swung gently. I wondered how God would judge him; suicide was a great sin but Broderick had only anticipated and eased his passage to death. And I had been, however reluctantly, an agent of those who had abused him so that killing himself with another’s help was the only way left. I had come to admire him, for all that his intensity had sometimes frightened me.
I looked down the deck, beyond the billowing sails, to where the captain was running between the sailors, shouting and looking over the side. I wondered if something was wrong. I turned as the hatch to the lower decks banged open and Barak, swathed like me in a heavy coat, emerged and came over, grasping at the rails as the ship bucked and heaved. He sat beside me.
‘How is Master Wrenne?’ he asked.
‘Still in bed. He says he’s all right, but he looks weak to me. I worry this voyage may be too much for him.’
Barak sighed. ‘He’ll make it or he won’t. There’s not much we can do. Poor old arsehole.’ We were silent a moment as he looked down the deck to where the captain was still pacing. ‘There’s a problem with the rudder. They think they’ve broken a pintail, it’s some sort of a bolt.’
I looked at him. ‘Serious?’
‘It needs attending to. We’re putting in at Ipswich now. We’ll be later than ever, just when we’ve got a favourable wind. The sailors are even more convinced this voyage is cursed.’
‘Sailors are a superstitious lot. What day is it? I lose track.’
‘October twenty-third. We’ve been out seven days already. The sailor said Rich is furious, he’s going to leave the ship at Ipswich and ride back to London.’
‘The King will be back before us at this rate. Though with Broderick dead I suppose that matters little now.’
He nodded, screwing up his eyes against the spray as a large wave crashed over the side of the boat. I looked at him. ‘Thank you for standing by last night,’ I said.
‘That’s all right.’
I hesitated. ‘How is Tamasin?’
‘Fine.’ He looked down a moment, then back at me. ‘But I have told her she must stop mourning for Jennet Marlin. That however kind she was to Tamasin, the woman was a murderess. And she can’t blame you for resenting her sorrow for her. Jesu, Jennet Marlin would have killed Tamasin if she had got in her way.’
‘Yes. She would.’
He smiled sadly. ‘Tamasin has so little security in her life, she cleaved to Jennet Marlin. As she cleaved to the idea of her father having good blood. If it turns out he hasn’t, I’ll say nothing.’
‘Even if he has, he probably wouldn’t want to know her.’
‘No.’ He looked at his feet for a moment. ‘It’s a pickle.’ He looked up again. ‘But I care for her. I am sorry, though, for what I said to you in Hull.’
‘It is all right. We have been cooped up together too long.’ I thought of the rosary, but our reconciliation was too fragile to mention that now.
‘I suppose Radwinter will go to the Tower when we land,’ Barak said.
‘Yes. To be questioned.’
‘The way Broderick would have been questioned?’
‘Probably.’ I shook my head. ‘I do not believe Radwinter killed him. Maleverer is wrong. He is so bull-headed, he sees only what is straight ahead, like a blinkered horse.’
‘Yet it all points to Radwinter. He was the only one with Broderick at the time, he said he was knocked on the head but there was no sign of a blow.’
‘You know it is possible to knock someone out without leaving a mark. Then there’s motive. Why on earth would Radwinter do it?’
‘Maleverer thinks he’s gone mad, doesn’t he?’
‘Yes. That was partly my fault.’ I sighed. Maleverer had questioned me after Broderick’s body had been taken away, railing with furious anger against Radwinter. Leacon had told him I had said Radwinter was mad, and Maleverer had seized on that, believing the erosion of his authority had sent the gaoler out of his wits until he went berserk and killed Broderick. I had protested that I had not meant I thought Radwinter would kill his prisoner, but Maleverer had been in no mood to listen.
