Page 14 of Lamentation


  ‘Yes, my Lord.’

  ‘But first, look at this.’

  He reached into his robe, and held up a little key on a gold chain. ‘I have persuaded my niece to entrust this to me. It is the one she kept around her neck, that opens her private chest.’

  I examined it, and saw it had several teeth of different sizes. ‘It does not look like a key that would be easy to copy.’

  ‘No. The chest itself I have removed to a place of safety, where it can be inspected.’ Lord Parr replaced the key in the folds of his robe. ‘Now, are you ready to question these servants?’ He gave me a hard look.

  ‘Yes, my Lord. Forgive me, I had but a weak moment.’

  ‘Good.’ He consulted a paper on his desk. ‘I have checked the records and discovered who was on duty that evening. The Queen was in her chamber all that afternoon; she went to her bedchamber after lunch, looked at the book and thought again about disposing of it, then spent some time studying Spanish – she is working to increase her knowledge of languages, that she may be of most use in diplomatic functions.’

  ‘She is often on her own during the afternoons?’

  ‘No. But when an afternoon is free she does like to take the chance to be alone for a little – it is not always easy in this place,’ he added feelingly. ‘Then at six she was called to the King, as you know, and returned at ten of the evening. It was during those four hours that the Lamentation was stolen. According to the guards, the only people who came into the Queen’s privy lodgings during that time were the two page boys whose duties are to clean the rooms and the Queen’s Gallery, and feed Rig, the Queen’s spaniel, and her birds. Also you will interview two women who have more or less free access – Mary Odell, a maid-in-waiting who has served the Queen for years, who makes sure her bed is ready and often sleeps with her in her chamber; and Jane, the fool she shares with the Lady Mary. Jane is much wanting in wit. Apparently she came into the Privy Chamber that evening, where some of the Queen’s ladies were sitting, demanding to see my niece, saying she had something that would entertain her. She did not believe the ladies when they told her the Queen was with the King, and Jane can make a great fuss if she does not get her way – the Queen and the Lady Mary both overindulge her – so the guard let her into the Queen’s privy lodgings to see for herself. She came out after a few minutes. And that is all.’

  ‘How many rooms make up the Queen’s privy lodgings?’

  ‘Six. The bathroom, bedchamber, the closet for prayer, a study, and dining room. And beyond those the Queen’s Privy Gallery, where she often walks. I have searched every inch of each chamber myself, by the way, in case the book was somehow secreted there. And found nothing.’

  ‘Are two pages needed to clean each day?’

  Lord Parr laughed scoffingly. ‘Of course not. But this is the royal household, and a multitude of servants is a sign of the Queen’s great status. There is another pair who come to clean in the morning. Only the King has more.’

  ‘And the staff on duty vary?’

  ‘Yes. There is a rota. I see what you are thinking. Another servant could somehow have discovered the book’s existence earlier? But they could not have arranged in advance for the book to be taken on that day, as nobody knew the King would call the Queen to him that evening.’

  ‘But he must do so fairly often?’

  ‘Not every evening. And in recent days he has often had meetings in the evening with the councillors and ambassadors.’

  ‘So, it seems the book must have been taken by one of these four servants, unless someone had secreted themselves in the Queen’s Gallery.’

  ‘Impossible. Nobody could. The guards at the doors to the Privy Chamber entrances check everyone who goes in and out. They are an absolute bar.’

  I thought a moment. ‘What about the guards themselves? Can they be trusted?’

  ‘All selected by the Queen. On a rota, again, but if any guard left his post by one of the doors, it would be noticed instantly. Not least by would-be courtiers, who are ever eager to gain closer access to places they shouldn’t. No, the only people who had entry when the Queen was absent were the two page boys, Mary Odell, and Jane Fool.’

  ‘Four people only.’

  ‘I have had both boys called in, and the two women. Using the pretext of the stolen ring, I want you to check the movements of each of them on that day. Present the jewel’s loss as a matter of great sorrow to the Queen. She has given authority for you to see Mary Odell alone, but you will have to question Jane in her presence; Jane is so foolish she would be afraid if you were to question her alone, perhaps even defiant.’ He frowned; he obviously thought her an unmitigated nuisance.

  ‘Very well, my Lord.’

  ‘Mary Odell is one of four chamberers. It is a junior post, but Mary is especially close to the Queen. She is her cousin once removed. There are many distant Parr relatives in the Queen’s household now, just as once there were Boleyns and Seymours. As well as being her dependants, they all owe their posts to the Queen, so their loyalty can be counted on. But Mary Odell, particularly, is the Queen’s close friend as well as her servant. Handle her gently. As for Jane Fool – ’ he inclined his head – ‘there are two types of fool: those skilled at gentle clowning, like the King’s man, Will Somers, and natural fools like Jane. She has great licence. But she has a sharp wit as well.’ Lord Parr looked at me closely. ‘One never knows if fools are always so foolish as they seem,’ he concluded darkly.

  ‘And Jane serves as fool to the Lady Mary as well. So she has joint loyalties,’ I ventured.

  ‘I have considered that. It is ten years since the Lady Mary ended her defiance and agreed to the Royal Supremacy. She is conservative in religion, but has followed the King’s wishes all this time. The Queen has tried to bring all three royal children together, but although Mary is fond of little Edward, she does not like the Lady Elizabeth.’ He shrugged. ‘Understandable, as Elizabeth’s mother displaced hers. The Queen has done everything to befriend Mary. They are of an age, and often together.’

  ‘But Mary is no reformer.’

  ‘She has avoided all taint of plotting. She is safe. And now I will leave you.’ Lord Parr stood. ‘The pages will be sent in. It will attract less notice, as I told you, if the questioning is conducted by one of the Queen’s Learned Council rather than myself. I will return later. The missing ring is plain gold with a large square ruby in the centre, and the initials of the Queen’s late stepdaughter, MN, for Margaret Neville, on the inside of the band.’ He stepped to the door. ‘Watch the page Adrian Russell, he can be an insolent pup. Later I will show you the chest. By the way, I heard today the King is moving to Hampton Court next month. The rat-catchers have already been sent in. Everything and everybody in the Royal Apartments will be moved there by barge. So it is important that you see everything here as it was at the time of the theft, while you still can.’

  A GUARD SHOWED in the first page, a skinny fair-haired lad of about sixteen, with a haughty manner. He wore the Queen’s red livery, her badge on his chest, and a black cap which he removed. I looked at him sternly, as though he were a hostile witness in court.

  ‘You are Adrian Russell?’

  ‘Yes, sir, of Kendal. My father is a distant relation of the Queen, and owns much property in Cumberland.’ He spoke proudly.

  ‘I am Serjeant Shardlake, of the Queen’s Learned Council, set to investigate the matter of the ruby ring stolen from the coffer in the Queen’s bedchamber. You have heard of the theft?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘It was stolen while the Queen was with his majesty on the sixth of July, between six and ten in the evening. You were one of those on duty that night?’

  Russell looked at me boldly. ‘Yes, sir. Garet Lynley and I came in at six, to bring fresh candles, clean the rooms, and scent them with new herbs. I left at eight. Garet stayed. To attend to the bedchamber,’ he added.

  ‘Did you enter the Queen’s bedchamber at all?’ I asked sharply.

 
‘No sir, only Garet Lynley. Only one page is allowed in there each evening, and it was not my turn that day.’

  ‘Two pages carry out this work every day for two hours?’

  ‘That is our assignment on the rota. We have to attend to the Queen’s gallery, too, feed the birds there. And her dog.’

  I did not like this lad’s arrogant tone. I spoke coldly. ‘Mayhap it does not always take two hours? Perhaps you sometimes sit down, rest?’

  ‘All servants do, sir.’

  ‘And boys are prone to meddle. A page stole something from the Queen before, you may remember. And he was sentenced to hang until the Queen pardoned him.’

  Russell’s eyes widened. He began to bluster. ‘Sir, I would do nothing like that, I would steal nothing, I swear. I am of good family—’

  ‘So you say. Did you see anyone else while you were there? Or anything unusual at all?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Think. Think hard. Perhaps the thief left something out of place, moved something?’

  ‘No, sir. I swear, I would tell you if I had noticed anything out of place.’ Young Russell was kneading his hands together with anxiety now, his childish arrogance gone. I could not see this callow lad being involved in the book’s theft. In gentler tones, I got him to go over his exact movements, then told him he could go. He scurried from the room with relief.

  The second page, Garet Lynley, was afraid from the outset; I could see that at once. He was the same age as Russell, tall and thin, his neatly combed brown hair worn long. I bade him sit and asked him about his duties in the Queen’s bedchamber.

  ‘I go in there, put new candles in the holders, lay out fresh linen on the coffer, then change the flowers and place fresh herbs and petals about the room. I feed the Queen’s dog, Rig, if he is there, but he was not that night. I do not touch her majesty’s bed or clothes, of course, that is for her chamberers. Mary Odell, I think it was, that day.’

  I nodded. ‘You put the linen on the chest. You know valuables are kept within?’

  ‘I swear, sir, I did not touch it. I never do. I believe it is locked.’

  ‘Have you ever tried the lock to find out?’

  ‘Never,’ he answered. ‘I am loyal to her majesty – ’ His voice rose in fear.

  I made my tone friendlier. ‘Did you notice anything unusual in the room that evening? About the chest, perhaps?’

  ‘No, sir. It was dusk by then. I carried a lamp.’ He frowned. ‘But if anything had been amiss with the chest I think I would have seen. I placed the linen there every night that week.’

  ‘Have you ever seen the stolen ring?’

  ‘No. I am told the Queen wears it on her finger sometimes, but I always have to bow low each time she passes, so I have never seen it.’

  ‘Very well.’ I believed him, but Garet Lynley, I was sure, was frightened of something more than just my interrogation. ‘Where are you from, boy?’ I asked lightly. ‘You have a northern cast of tongue.’

  The question seemed to disturb him greatly; his eyes swivelled as he answered me. ‘Lancashire, sir. My mother was once a maid-in-waiting in Catherine of Aragon’s household. It was through her that my family were granted their lands. She knew the present Queen’s mother, old Lady Parr.’

  ‘And that was how you got this post? Through your family’s connection with the Queen’s mother?’

  ‘Yes, sir. She wrote to Lord Parr as to whether there might be a place for me.’ His breath was coming noticeably fast now.

  ‘Are both your parents still alive?’

  ‘Not my father, sir.’ The boy hesitated. ‘He was imprisoned in the Tower after the Northern Rebellion ten years ago, and died there.’

  I considered carefully. A boy whose mother had served Catherine of Aragon and whose father had taken part in the Northern Rebellion. ‘Your family history, then, might make people wonder about your religious sympathies,’ I said slowly.

  Garet’s collapse was sudden, and total. Almost falling off his chair, he knelt on the floor, wringing his hands. ‘It is not true! I swear I am no papist, I loyally follow the King’s dispensations. I keep telling people, if only they would leave me alone – ’

  ‘Get up,’ I said gently. I felt sorry to have unmanned him so. ‘Take your chair again. Now, listen, I am not here to harm you. What people?’

  He shook his head desperately. Tears were coursing down his cheeks now.

  ‘Come, Garet. If you have done nothing wrong you will suffer no harm. If you have – and if you confess – the Queen will be merciful.’

  The boy took a long, shuddering breath.

  ‘I have done nothing, sir. But it is as you say, because of my family’s past, people think I might be one who would spy against the reformers. Though Lord Parr and the Queen know my family wish only to live quietly and serve loyally. But since coming to the palace – ’ He hesitated.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘A man has approached me, twice, and asked if I would observe what I could about the Queen and report to those who would serve what he called true religion. I refused, I swear – ’ He stared at me miserably, his face puffy with tears, and I realized suddenly what it must be like for an innocent boy to step into this gilded sewer-pit.

  ‘Did you report this to your superiors? Lord Parr?’

  ‘No, sir, I didn’t dare. The man, he – frightened me.’

  ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘When I first came, last autumn. Then again in April, when the hunt for heretics began.’

  ‘The same man approached you both times?’

  ‘Yes. I did not know him. I told one of the other pages and he said it sometimes happens when you first come to court, an approach from one side or the other, and if you would keep your skin whole you should always say no. The approach is always by someone unknown at court, a servant of one of the great men, but from outside the palace.’

  ‘What was his name?’

  ‘He would not tell it. He approached me the first time in the street. The second occasion he was waiting for me outside an inn I frequent. There was something in his face that frightened me.’ The boy looked down, ashamed of his weakness.

  ‘Can you describe him?’

  The boy looked up at me again. He realized it was all or nothing now. ‘He was in his twenties, thin but wiry and strong. He wore cheap clothes but spoke like a gentleman. I remember he had half of one ear missing, like it had been cut off in a fight.’ Garet shuddered.

  Half an ear gone, like one of the men Elias had disturbed trying to break into the print-shop that first time. I tried not to let my excitement show. Garet continued, ‘Both times he said that if I agreed to spy on the Queen I would earn the gratitude of a very great personage of the realm, who would reward me and advance my career at court.’

  ‘Surely an enticing prospect,’ I observed.

  ‘No.’ Garet shook his head fiercely. ‘Now I only want to leave here as soon as possible.’

  ‘You did the right thing in telling me,’ I said soothingly. ‘You have nothing to fear. Now, after you turned this man down for the second time, did you see him again?’

  ‘Never. It is like that, I’m told, if they cannot turn you they give up. I wish I could go home to my family, sir,’ he added in a small voice. ‘Without disgrace.’

  ‘I think that may be arranged.’

  Garet wiped a satin sleeve across his face. I could not but sympathize with his weakness. If I had found myself in the same danger at his age my reaction would probably have been the same. I let him leave, and sat alone in Lord Parr’s office. At last, I thought, a clue.

  Chapter Eleven

  MARY ODELL WAS a tall, plump woman in her early thirties, dressed in black silk livery, the Queen’s badge fixed to the cap atop her fair hair. She had soft features, and something of a motherly air, although she wore no wedding ring. Her green eyes were keen and alert. I stood and bowed, inviting her to sit. She did so, folding her hands in her lap, looking at me with curiosity and, I thought, a
touch of speculative amusement.

  ‘I am Serjeant Matthew Shardlake.’

  ‘I know, sir. The Queen has spoken of you. She believes you an honest and most clever man.’

  I felt myself blush. ‘I apologize for troubling you, Mistress Odell, but I must speak with everyone who was in the Queen’s privy lodgings the night her ring was stolen.’

  ‘Certainly. Her majesty asked me to do all I could to help you.’

  ‘Lord Parr says you have been chamberer and friend to the Queen for some time.’

  ‘We are related. I knew her majesty before she was Queen.’ Mary Odell smiled slightly, with that hint of secret amusement the Queen herself had so often shown in happier days. ‘Poor relations do well when a person reaches such exalted status.’ She paused, and then continued, her voice serious now. ‘But my loyalty to her majesty goes far deeper than gratitude for my post. She has favoured me with her trust and good friendship, and I tell you frankly I would die for her.’ Mistress Odell took a deep breath. ‘She has told me much of what has happened these last months. Her – troubles.’

  ‘I see.’ But not about the Lamentation. That would be too dangerous.

  Mistress Odell looked at me quizzically. ‘The Queen seems extraordinarily upset over the loss of her ring. She loved the good Margaret Neville, but even so seems somehow stricken very hard by the theft.’ I could see this intelligent woman had guessed that more was involved here than a stolen jewel. But of course I could not comment.

  ‘I understand you were on duty as chamberer that night. And that you – pray, excuse me – share the Queen’s bed on occasion.’

  ‘I do sometimes. For company, when my mistress is feeling lonely, or troubled.’

  ‘Could you tell me everything that happened when you came to prepare the Queen’s bedchamber the night the ring was stolen? Anything even slightly unusual that you saw or heard might help.’

  She nodded, seeming to approve that I was getting down to business. ‘I have two rooms in the lodgings by the gatehouse. That evening I left them perhaps ten minutes early, a little before nine; I was tired and wanted to get my duty done and out of the way. I crossed the courtyard to the Royal Apartments. The routine is that the pages clean the rooms, and then I go in to prepare the bed, make sure all is in order in the bedchamber, and lay out the Queen’s nightgown and hairbrushes.’