by C. J. Sansom
When I had finished, Paulet turned and stared at Bess for perhaps half a minute. She flushed and shifted in her seat, but returned his gaze steadily. Broughton put his hand over hers, earning him a glance of disapproval from the Master. Then Paulet turned back to me.
'Everything depends on the mother's evidence,' he said.
'It does, Sir William.'
'The applicant's death is a strange matter. A suicide, he must have been sick in his mind.' There was a suppressed sob from Bess, which Paulet ignored.
I said, 'Master, something which may have tipped this man of good character over the edge of reason must be serious indeed.'
'May be serious, Master Shardlake. May be.' Paulet turned to Dyrick. 'I will hear from Master Hobbey's representative. Master Hobbey himself is absent, I see.'
Dyrick rose. 'My client is busy with contracts to supply the fleet and army at Portsmouth with wood, work of national importance.' He looked at me. 'From his own woodlands, I should add.'
Paulet considered a moment. 'I understand no marriage is in prospect for the ward.'
'No, indeed. Master Hobbey would not wish his ward to marry till he finds a lady of his own choice.' Dyrick's voice rose. 'As we know, the man who lodged this extraordindary bill is dead. His mother's evidence is mere hearsay. And Reverend Broughton's deposition deals only with allegations relating to the grant of the wardship many years ago.' His voice took on a reproving note. 'That wardship went through the due and proper processes of the Office of Wards, predecessor to this honourable court.'
Paulet nodded. 'Very true.' He stared at Broughton. 'I think you a naughty fellow, sir, to stir up trouble now over how the wardship was granted.'
Broughton rose. 'I have told only the truth, as God is my witness.'
'Do not bandy words with me, or I will have you in the Fleet for contempt.' Paulet did not raise his quiet voice but it cut like a knife. Broughton hesitated, then sat down again. Paulet turned back to Dyrick and sighed.
'Michael Calfhill's allegations, however vague, do, I think, merit some investigation. Do you wish to question the witnesses?'
Dyrick stared at Bess. She looked back at him, lifting her chin. Dyrick hesitated, then said, 'No, Master.' I smiled inwardly. Dyrick had realized that questioning Bess on her statement would only reveal her total sincerity. I understood then that I had won this stage of the battle at least, and from the angry set of his face Dyrick did too. But I took no credit. I had seen enough of Paulet to realize that if pressure had not been brought on him by the Queen he would indeed have thrown us out the door of his strange fiefdom in minutes.
'I think,' Paulet said, 'the court should order depositions from all persons currently concerned with Hugh Curteys' welfare.' He looked at me. 'Whom did you have in mind, Serjeant Shardlake?'
'Hugh Curteys himself, of course. Master Hobbey, his wife, perhaps their son, the steward of the household. Any current tutor—'
'There is no tutor,' Dyrick said. He stood again, his face red with suppressed anger. 'And David Hobbey is a minor.'
'Anyone else, Master Shardlake?'
'I would submit that a statement should be taken from the local feodary, and that he should make his accounts regarding Hugh Curteys' estate available.'
Paulet considered. 'Sir Quintin Priddis is feodary of Hampshire.'
I ventured some flattery. 'Your wide knowledge does you credit, Master.'
Paulet smiled thinly again. 'Not really. I am from Hampshire too. I am going down to Portsmouth in a few days, as governor, to bring some order to all the soldiers and sailors.' He reflected. 'A deposition from Sir Quintin: yes, I agree to that. But as for viewing the accounts—I think not. That could be considered a slur on Sir Quintin's honesty.' He stared at me with those large empty eyes, quite straight-faced, and I realized I had not won as much as I thought. If profits were being creamed off Hugh's estate, and the fact that Hobbey was cutting down woodland strengthened the notion, the local feodary was probably involved. Without accounts he could say anything and there was no way to test the truth of it.
'Now,' the Master continued urbanely, 'there is the question of who should take these depositions.' He looked at Dyrick, whose face was now almost as red as his hair. 'What about Serjeant Shardlake?'
'With due respect,' Dyrick answered, 'an impartial person is needed—'
Paulet leaned back in his high chair. 'I have a better idea. You and Serjeant Shardlake can both go.'
I saw what Paulet was doing. He was going to let the investigation go ahead, but handicap my enquiries by setting Dyrick to breathe down my neck as well as refusing to order disclosure of the accounts. Dyrick must have realized that, but he looked no happier. 'Master,' he said, 'that would give me difficulties. Family commitments—'
'It is your commitment to the court that matters, Brother. Master Shardlake, have you any objections to my suggestion?'
And then I had an idea. I stared at Barak, who looked back enquiringly. 'Sir William,' I said, 'if Brother Dyrick and I are both to go, then might I ask that we take our clerks to assist us?'
Paulet inclined his head. 'That seems reasonable.'
'Perhaps they could be named in the order to attend us. Merely to ensure fairness, equality of legal resources, in the investigation.'
Paulet turned to Dyrick. 'Any objection to that?'
Dyrick hesitated. Paulet drummed his fingers on the desk. Dyrick said, 'I have no objection, if Serjeant Shardlake wishes it.' I looked down at Barak and ventured a wink. If he was ordered by a court to travel to Hampshire the army could not touch him.
'What are the names?'
'Barak and Feaveryear, Master.'
'Note the names, Mylling.'
I saw to my surprise that Feaveryear was smiling.
Paulet leaned back. 'Now, I shall set a further hearing, let us say four weeks from today, to get this matter over and dealt with. I may be back myself, we should be able to see off the French by then, eh?' Mylling laughed at the joke, his head shaking with amusement over his quill. Paulet gave a wintry smile. 'If not, my deputy will take the hearing.'
Dyrick rose again. 'Master, if Serjeant Shardlake and I are both to go, the cost will be high. I must ask that Master Hobbey's costs be met in full, if, or rather when, these allegations are shown to be groundless.'
'If they prove groundless they will be, Master Dyrick, I shall see to that.' He turned to Bess. 'Do you have the means, Madam, to meet what may be very considerable costs?'
Bess rose. 'I can meet the costs, sir.'
Paulet gave her a long, hard look. He would guess the money would come from the Queen. I hoped Warner would be able to cobble together a plausible payment from the Queen's treasury. The Master turned and held my eyes for a long moment. 'This had best not be a mare's nest, Serjeant Shardlake,' he said very quietly, 'or you will be in bad odour with this court.' He turned to Mylling again. 'Draw the order.'
The clerk nodded, took a blank piece of paper and began to write. He had not so much as glanced at any of us. I wondered whether he could have given information to Dyrick about my involvement, whether it could have been Dyrick that set the corner boys on me. My opponent was putting his papers in order with rapid, angry movements. Paulet said, 'Master Dyrick, I would like a brief word.' He stood, and everyone in the court rose hastily. Paulet bowed, dismissing us. Dyrick gave me a nasty look, then went out after the judge.
* * *
WE RETURNED to the vestibule. As soon as the door was closed Broughton seized my hand. 'The light of the Lord's grace shone in that court,' he said. 'With that hard judge I thought we must lose, but we won.'
'We have won only the right to investigate,' I cautioned.
'But you will find the truth, I know. These people who gather wardships. Men without conscience who flatter themselves with heaping riches upon riches, honours upon honours, forgetting God—'
'Indeed.' I looked at the court door, wondering why Paulet had called Dyrick back. Bess came up to me. She was pale. 'May I sit d
own?' she asked.
'Of course. Come.'
I sat her down on the bench. 'So Michael has obtained his wish,' she said quietly. 'An enquiry.'
'Be sure I shall question everyone in Hampshire closely.' I glanced at Barak, who was leaning against the wall, looking thoughtful. Next to him Feaveryear swept his lock of lank hair from his forehead. He still looked pleased at the prospect of the journey.
Bess sighed heavily. 'Thank you for all you have done, sir.' She looked at me. Then she reached round to the back of her neck and unclipped something. She opened her hand and showed me a small, beautifully worked gold crucifix. She laid it on the bench between us. I looked at the delicately crafted figure. There was even a tiny crown of thorns.
Bess spoke quietly. 'This was found with Michael when he died. It was Emma's, given her by her grandmother. The child wore it in the old woman's memory. After Emma died and Michael was dismissed he asked Mistress Hobbey if he could have some remembrance of Emma. She gave him that, with an impatient gesture, Michael said. He kept it with him always. Would you take it, and give it to the boy Hugh? I am sure Michael would wish him to have it now.'
'I will, of course,' I said. I picked it up.
'I pray you get the poor boy out of the hands of that wicked family.' Bess sighed. 'You know, in the weeks before he died my son had taken up his archery again. I think if he had lived he would have gone to the militia.'
'Did he fear being called up?'
She frowned. 'No, sir, he wanted to play his part in repelling the French. He was a good and honourable man.'
Reverend Broughton touched her arm. 'Come, good madam, I would be out of this place. May I accompany you home?' Bess allowed Broughton to lead her away. In the doorway she turned briefly, smiled at Barak and me and was gone.
* * *
THE COURT DOOR opened, and Dyrick strode towards me. He looked in a cold fume.
'Well, Master Shardlake, it seems we must go to Hampshire.'
'It does.'
'Are you up to such a journey?' he asked with a hint of a sneer.
'Once I rode to York on a case.'
'I was hoping to spend these next weeks with my wife and children. I have two girls and a boy; during the law term I do not see nearly enough of them. Now I must tell them I have to disappear to Hampshire.'
'We will not be long away. Three or four days there and three or four back if we make haste, a few days in between.'
'You have no family, I think, sir? It is easier for you.' Dyrick leaned close to me and spoke quietly, fierce eyes on mine. 'I know why Sir William has done this. Normally he would throw such a tissue of unsubstantiated allegations out at once.'
'Perhaps he wished to do justice.'
'Just now he told me that Mistress Calfhill was for many years the servant of Lady Latimer, as she then was.'
'Even the servant of a Queen may seek justice, I think.'
'This is not justice. It is pestering, persecution.'
'Everyone in Hampshire will get a fair hearing.'
'Sir William told me that while the Queen may press for an investigation she cannot determine the outcome. The help she can give you stops here.' His voice rasped like a file.
I met his angry stare. 'We should consider the practicalities of our journey,' I said.
'I want to leave as soon as we can. The sooner we start, the sooner we return. And it will take more than three or four days to get there. The roads will be muddy after the storms, and there will be soldiers and supply carts on the roads south.'
I caught Barak's eye. 'I agree. What about the day after tomorrow?'
Dyrick looked surprised by my ready agreement. I continued, 'I suggest we take a boat as far as Kingston, that would be the quickest way, then hire strong riding horses so we can make the journey as fast as possible.'
'Very well. I will send Feaveryear down today to hire the horses.' He turned to the clerk. 'Can you do that?'
'Yes, sir.'
'That sounds sensible,' I said. 'But horses will be difficult to hire just now. There will be much demand for them.'
'Then we must pay above the normal rate.'
I hesitated. If we found nothing all those costs would be paid by Bess. Or, rather, by the Queen. But my horse Genesis was only used to short rides and this would be a long one. I had ridden him to York four years before, but that was by slow stages and he was younger then. I nodded agreement.
'Will you bring a bodyservant as well as your clerk?' Dyrick asked.
'Probably.' I was thinking about the man Warner had promised me.
'I will not. Feaveryear can do my fetching and carrying. We should travel as light as we can to make speed. I must send a letter by a fast rider to Master Hobbey, so at least he has some advance warning of this nonsense. I suggest we meet in Kingston on Wednesday. As early as possible—I will send you a note.'
'We agree on the practicalities, then,' I said, trying to lighten the discussion. After all, I would be stuck with Dyrick for well over a week.
He leaned in close again. 'Be assured, you will find nothing. And when we come before the court next month I will make you regret this nonsense. That is, unless the French land and we find ourselves cut off in a battle zone.' He sighed deeply, then looked at me. 'You could still pull out. Go after your client and advise her she will be bankrupted, which she will. Unless I find evidence the case is being maintained by the Queen, in which case Mistress Calfhill could find herself in prison.'
I met his gaze. I knew he was bluffing, he would never dare bring the Queen into this. He gave me a final vicious look and turned away. 'Come on, you,' he said to Feaveryear.
Barak and I were left alone in the vestibule.' Now,' I said, 'come. There are things we must discuss.'
Chapter Eleven
I TOOK BARAK to a tavern. 'That was a clever idea,' he said, 'getting my name on the order. But will it override Goodryke's orders?' The hand that held his mug was trembling slightly.
'Yes. It is an order of the court, instructing you personally to accompany me. Sir William Paulet has more power than any whiffler. Go back to Wards this afternoon and fetch the signed order, then take it round to Carver at the Guildhall. He can show it to Goodryke. And the day after tomorrow we will be gone.'
'Goodryke will know what you've done.'
'He won't be able to do anything about it. Paulet himself will be gone to Portsmouth and the clerks at Wards won't be interested.' I smiled bitterly. 'There's no money in it.'
'Did the idea just come to you in court?'
'Yes. Thank God Dyrick did not object.' I looked serious. 'I know I didn't want you to come, but it seems the only way to keep you safe. I'll tell Warner I don't need a clerk now, though a stout bodyservant would still be useful.'
Barak looked at me. 'Tamasin knows nothing about the attack on you, that warning from those apprentices.'
'Then don't tell her. I'm less worried for my own safety than I was. Dyrick knows I have the Queen's patronage, and I have no doubt he will tell Hobbey when he writes. If the danger came from them, they're not going to risk trouble from that quarter. Though I am less and less sure they set those boys on me. Dyrick is a nasty piece of work, but I don't think he'd do something that could cause him trouble at the Bar.'
'Didn't like the look of him at all. What's his history?'
'I've asked around Lincoln's Inn. He's a London fellow, his father was some sort of clerk. He did well at his examinations and chose to specialize in land litigation and the Court of Wards. He's a strange one; it's as though he knows no other way of being than aggression. Yet from what he said he'll miss his wife and children.'
'If not him, then who was it set those boys on you? And I still think there is something suspicious about Michael's suicide.'
I considered. 'There is no evidence for that. All we have is an empty room.'
'I suppose if those boys really wanted you out of the way they would have killed you, or hurt you badly.'
'Yes.' I looked at him. 'When we
go south you are not to go chasing trouble. This man Warner has promised me can come with me to where Ellen lived when I go there.'
'You're still going to look into that?'
'Oh, yes.'
He raised his eyebrows. Then he said quietly, 'Tamasin must have the final word on this. Will you come home with me?'
* * *
HALF AN HOUR later we were back at Barak's house, in the little parlour. Tamasin sat opposite us. Through the window bees hovered over her pretty flower garden.
'You must decide, Tammy,' Barak said.
She sighed deeply. 'Oh, Jack, if only you had dealt with that man civilly in the first place—'
'Tammy, I am more sorry than I can say.'
'With luck,' I said, 'we may be back in under two weeks. Well in time for the birth.'
She looked at Barak. 'At least I wouldn't have to put up with your fussing around.' Her tone was light but I could see she was blinking back tears. And I knew how frightened they both were that this baby might be born dead like their first, and how much they needed each other now. But I could see no better plan. Barak reached across and took Tamasin's hand.
'It is a hard journey to make in these times,' she said.
'We have travelled harder and longer,' Barak said. 'To York, where I met you.'
'You'd better not meet anyone else in Hampshire,' she said in mock-threatening tones, and I realized she had decided my plan was for the best.
'I won't.'
She looked at me. 'What if the French invade near where you are?'
'Hoyland, the place where we are going, is some miles from the coast. And I have just had another thought. There must be many royal post riders taking messages up and down between London and the troops on the coast. Trained men, with relays of horses waiting for them, and priority on the road. I am sure I could arrange with Master Warner for letters to go back and forth that way. At least you can send each other news. And I want to keep in touch with Warner.' I smiled. 'It will do no harm for me to receive one or two letters with the seal of the Queen's household.'
