‘What, Henry? Come.’
He looked down at the floor, running a hand over the pustules on his face. ‘The moment the old woman left the girls became cruel. They —they began to mock my - my spots, asking if I had the pox. One said even a pocky whore would not have me.’ His voice shook. ‘Cousin Honor, I hate it in London. I want to go back to Lincolnshire.’ He hung his head again, greasy hair falling over his face.
‘Henry,’ Lady Honor said with a touch of impatience, ‘these things happen. You must be more robust—’
‘They should not happen!’ he burst out. ‘I am a Vaughan, I am entitled to some respect.’
‘It is a cruel thing to be mocked,’ I said.
Lady Honor sighed. ‘Go upstairs to your room, Henry. I will come and talk to you in a moment.’
Without a word the boy got up and, without looking at me, went out and slammed the door behind him. Lady Honor leaned back in her chair and smiled sadly.
‘You can see now why I fear Henry does not have the robustness to make his way in London. It was a mistake to bring him here. But he is the Vaughan heir. We had to try.’ She sighed. ‘Poor boy.’
‘Some boys feel slights greatly at that age. I did.’
‘Young girls can be cruel.’ She smiled ironically. ‘I could, myself.’
‘You, madam? I find that hard to be believe.’
‘You know how girl children are told how to behave down to the last detail? How to walk, how to sit, when to smile.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I wonder how many scream with frustration inside, as I did. And how many turn to cruel thoughts beneath sweet rosy faces?’
‘It takes a woman to understand such things.’
‘I shall send Henry back. There is another Vaughan cousin. He is young, but perhaps in a few years—’
I rose, conscious time was passing. ‘I fear I must go.’ I was reluctant to leave her, glad my questioning had not broken the beginning of friendship, but I wanted to get Guy’s opinion on those books before I saw Cromwell.
‘And I must try to console Henry. I will see you out.’ Lady Honor led me downstairs.
In the hall I turned to her. ‘I am sorry for your troubles,’ I said again. ‘And for raking them up.’
She laid a hand lightly on my arm. ‘You were doing your duty even though it was uncomfortable. I admire that.’ She studied me. ‘But you look tired. You are meant for finer, gentler things than work like this. You demean yourself, Matthew.’
‘I have no choice.’
‘For now, perhaps.’ She took my hand. ‘Until tomorrow. Remember, Three Cranes Wharf at noon.’
As I walked to the stables to fetch Genesis, I felt warmed and soothed by her care. Yet still my sceptical brain worried away at the thought she might only want to keep me on her side in my dealings with Cromwell. She had sworn on the Bible, but the dark thought that she might be an atheist returned to me. To such a person, a Bible oath would mean nothing.
Chapter Twenty-eight
IT WAS A SHORT RIDE to Guy’s shop, but when I arrived I saw the shutters were drawn. On the door was a note, in Guy’s spiky hand, saying the shop would be closed until the morrow. I stood looking at it, filled with frustration. I remembered that once a month or so he went out to a fair in Hertfordshire, where herbs and physic were sold, to replenish his stock. I left a message with a neighbour asking him to contact me as soon as he returned, then turned the placid horse for home.
BARAK WAS WAITING for me in Chancery Lane, a gloomy look on his face.
‘Any news?’ I asked.
‘I went and reminded that old troll Madam Neller you’d promised her money if the girl turns up again. And told her what to expect from Lord Cromwell if Bathsheba turns up and she doesn’t tell us. But she knows nothing. No one knows anything except the dead, and they won’t tell. I found where Toky and Wright have been staying, too, a cheap lodging house by the river. They left yesterday, though.’
‘Perhaps they were afraid the hue and cry would be out for them.’
‘They’d only been at the lodging house three days. I suspect they’re moving from place to place so we can’t find their trail. What did Lady Honor have to say?’
‘She told me Marchamount is after her hand and she has refused him; that was what they have been talking about. And the Duke of Norfolk is trying to get some lands from her in exchange for introducing her nephew at court. She says she’s told no one else she opened those papers.’
‘Do you believe her?’
‘She swore it on the Great Bible.’ I sighed. ‘She’s invited me to the bear-baiting tomorrow. I thought I’d go. Marchamount will be there as well. It will be a chance to check her story.’
‘Looks like that lead’s closed off. You’ll be glad to see her in the clear, eh?’
‘I admit I like her, but I would not let liking for a woman cloud my judgement.’
‘Never knew it not to.’
I gave him a look; he was worried by the coming interview, I could tell, and diverting himself at my expense.
‘I found something else too.’ I told him about my encounter with Norfolk and Rich, the possibility something might have been buried with the old soldier.
‘It’s a long shot,’ he said.
‘I know. But what could be more characteristic of that old soldier than Greek Fire? And the monks weren’t to know a day would come when hallowed monastic ground would be casually dug up. I think I’ll have another word with Kytchyn. The earl will know where he is.’
‘All right. Don’t say anything about desecrating monastic ground, though.’
‘I know better than that.’ I got up. ‘Well, we had better go. We’ll take the wherry.’
‘How’s the new horse?’
‘Quiet enough,’ I said, then added, ‘he’s no personality.’
Barak laughed. ‘I’m sorry, I should have asked at the royal stables if they’d a horse that could talk.’
‘When you are in a bad humour you become oafish,’ I said sternly. ‘But we’ll do no good sniping at each other and I am too tired for it. Come on.’
We said little on the journey. I felt a growing nervousness as the wherry drew in at Westminster Stairs. We disembarked and walked past Westminster Hall, heading for Whitehall Palace just beyond. As we approached the huge Holbein Gate, colourful with its coats of arms and terracotta roundels of Roman emperors, Barak turned to me.
‘Perhaps we should have taken Leman to confront Bealknap this morning.’
‘It was just as important to see Lady Honor.’
He gave me one of his keen looks. ‘You’ll threaten to expose Bealknap, won’t you, unless he gives us full answers? No lawyers sticking together?’
‘Yes. Though if Bealknap is hauled up before the secretary, my name will stink in Lincoln’s Inn. Lawyers aren’t supposed to report each other. But yes, I’ll do it.’ I gave him a steady look. ‘What have you said about me, by the way, in your reports to the earl? Come, you must have said something?’
‘That’s private,’ he said uneasily.
‘I want to know what to expect.’
‘I’ve done nothing but report what we’ve done,’ Barak replied matter of factly. ‘I’ve given no bad opinion of you, if you must know. But that will cut no ice - what he needs is progress.’
He walked ahead under the great gate, which gave us a few moments of welcome shadow. Building was going on everywhere, half-built accommodation blocks rising from the earth, scaffolding and dust everywhere. They said the king meant Whitehall Palace to be the finest in Europe. We turned into the new Privy Gallery building, where Lord Cromwell had offices; Barak exchanged a word with the guard and we passed inside.
A long hall stretched away from us, richly decorated with tapestries, large windows giving onto an enormous garden. I knew the king often received visitors here. I caught my breath as I saw, guarded by a halberdier, Holbein’s great mural of the Tudor dynasty. The giant painting was as magnificent as I had heard. The king’s dead parents, Henry VII, whom
Lady Honor’s family had fought against at Bosworth, and his wife, Elizabeth of York, stood on either side of a stone bier. Below them stood Jane Seymour, the only one of Henry’s wives he cared to remember, unexpectedly plain. Opposite her, the king stood with his hands on his hips. He was painted wearing a richly decorated gown with enormous shoulders, a shirt encrusted with jewels and a prominent codpiece. He stared, it seemed, directly at me. His expression was one of cold authority mixed with something else. Weariness? Anger? I shuddered at the thought that behind Cromwell, if Greek Fire was not found, lay the fury of the king himself.
‘The earl is waiting,’ Barak whispered urgently at my elbow.
‘Of course, I’m sorry.’
Barak seemed to know his way through the echoing corridors. Courtiers and black-robed officials walked past quietly and sedately lest the king might be in residence. I looked out at the magnificent garden, which was dominated by a fountain that, despite the drought, still pumped a good head of water. Barak stopped outside a door guarded by another halberdier, and we were admitted to an outer office where Grey, ubiquitous as ever, sat behind a desk. He rose and greeted us. As on the previous occasion there was a nervous look on his round scholarly face.
‘Master Shardlake, is there any more news? I have seen Barak’s messages. There is so little time left—’
‘Our news is for the earl,’ Barak told him sharply.
Grey looked at him and inclined his head. ‘All right, Barak, but I just wanted to warn you he’s in no good frame of mind. And he has the Duke of Norfolk with him - he’s been there two hours.’
‘Really?’ I said. ‘I saw the duke earlier, at Smithfield. He was with Richard Rich then.’
Grey shook his head sorrowfully. ‘All the earl’s old friends are plotting against him. It is cruel.’ He shook his head, stared nervously at the inner door, then bent his head towards me. ‘I heard shouting a little while ago.’ He bit his lip anxiously, reminding me for a moment of Joseph.
‘Should we wait?’ Barak asked.
‘Yes, yes. He wants to see you.’
Grey broke off as the inner door burst open. The duke strode out. He flung the door casually shut behind him, a breach of manners I could scarcely believe, then turned to us with a wolfish smile on his long face. I bowed deeply.
Norfolk laughed harshly. ‘You again! You seem determined to impress yourself on my mind.’ His penetrating eyes were full of malice, the politeness he had shown when I met him with Rich gone. He nodded. ‘The friend of the heretic. Don’t worry, Master Shardlake, I have you well marked.’ He turned to Barak. ‘You as well, my young friend with the Jewish name. Did you know that some Spanish traders have been exposed as secret Jews here in the City? The Spanish ambassador wants them back to burn. God’s death, there are heretics everywhere.’ He turned to Grey. ‘You too, I have you all marked.’ He gave us a triumphant nod then walked out, slamming the office door behind him.
Barak blew out his cheeks. ‘Shit.’
Grey swallowed. ‘He’s crowing, crowing like he’s cock of the roost already.’ He stared at the closed inner door a moment, then got up, knocked nervously and went in. A few moments later he reappeared.
‘Lord Cromwell will see you.’ We walked to the door, my heart sinking with dread at the thought of the mood he would be in now.
Cromwell sat in a large office whose walls were lined with shelves and drawers, behind a desk covered with a clutter of papers. I saw he had a magnificent globe, showing the New World with its indented coastlines and empty interior where monsters roamed. He sat very still, his square heavy face strangely expressionless, eyes fixed thoughtfully on us as we bowed low.
‘Well, Matthew,’ he said quietly. ‘Jack.’
‘My lord.’
He wore a plain brown robe today, his gold chain of office the only colour in his costume. He fiddled with the chain a moment, then reached for a quill, a pretty green peacock’s feather with swirling colours that made the shape of an eye. He toyed with it, looking at the eye, seemingly lost in thought. Then he smiled bleakly and nodded at the door.
‘Grey says the duke made an exhibition of himself out there.’
I could not think how to reply. Cromwell went on in the same reasonable, quiet voice. ‘He came to demand I release Bishop Sampson from the Tower. I shall have to, he couldn’t be got to confess to any plots even when they showed him the rack.’ He looked again at the eye in the feather, then began pulling it to pieces. ‘The papists are craftier than the most cunning fox, they keep their conspiracies so close I’ve nothing for the king that would turn him against Norfolk’s party. Not even murmurings.’ He shook his head, then said mildly, ‘Jack here tells me you have been busy on a case against the Bealknap man. You were visiting a property of his when you were attacked.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
His tone stayed quiet, but when he spoke again his eyes were full of anger. ‘You waste time on trifles while the one thing I have to keep me in the king’s favour, Greek Fire, remains lost and the thieves slaughter all those who know of it under your very nose.’
‘We managed to get to Goodwife Gristwood and her son, and the ex-monk—’ I said.
‘And little they had to tell.’
‘We’ve been working hard, my lord,’ Barak ventured.
Cromwell ignored him. He leaned forward, pointing the mutilated quill at me. ‘One week only until that demonstration is due. The king’s insisting on a divorce from Queen Anne now and I’m the one who must find the way. Then he’ll marry that little whore Catherine Howard and Norfolk will never be out of his presence, telling him he should have my head for tying him to that German drab. Greek Fire’s the only leverage I have now—if I can give him that he’ll keep me in his service. Perhaps then I can turn the tide before the Howards have us back under Rome.’ He laid down the remains of the quill and leaned back. ‘Perhaps, then, I will be allowed to live.’ His heavy frame seemed to quiver slightly as he uttered the last word. ‘The king does know gratitude,’ he muttered softly, as though to himself. ‘He does.’ I realized with a sinking heart that he was almost at the end of his resources. He blinked, then stared at me again.
‘Well! Is there any more news? Have you achieved anything apart from landing me with that menagerie of scared fools?’
‘I needed to discover what they knew, my lord.’
‘You didn’t believe in Creek Fire, did you?’ he asked bluntly. I shifted my feet nervously. ‘I needed to trace the matter back to its source—’
‘Do you believe in it now?’
I hesitated. ‘Yes.’
‘So what of the suspects, the people who matter?’
‘They all say they know nothing. Lady Honor I have questioned closely.’ I repeated all she had had told me.
He grunted. ‘She’s a fine woman. Pretty.’ His hard eyes bored into mine. I wondered if Barak had told him I liked her. I remembered Cromwell was a widower now; his only son Gregory was said to be, like Henry Vaughan, a poor sort of fellow.
‘I intend to check her story with Marchamount.’
‘Another one who still maintains he knows nothing. Bealknap makes a third.’
‘Bealknap has questions to answer. I have found a way of bringing pressure on him, by threatening to expose some of his ill dealings. I shall see him this afternoon.’
‘Expose him? To the Inn authorities?’
‘Yes.’
He nodded approvingly. ‘You do mean business then.’
‘I will question him on his involvement with Richard Rich.’
Cromwell’s face clouded at that name. ‘Yes, you have added him to our list of possible suspects, Barak tells me. Him and Norfolk.’ He gave a sudden furious glance at the closed. I shuddered at the thought of what he would do to the duke if he had him in his power.
‘Bealknap and Marchamount are under their respective patronage.’ I hesitated. ‘I saw them together this morning, at Barty’s. I wondered whether they might be plotting something together.’ br />
‘Everyone is plotting. All my protégés are falling away, becoming spies and enemies, making shift to protect their places on the council if the tide turns against me.’ He looked at me again. ‘If Bealknap told Rich about Greek Fire, Rich could have told Norfolk.’
‘It is all guesswork, my lord.’
‘Yes, it is.’ He nodded grimly.
‘I learned they are digging up the graves of the monks at Barty’s,’ I said, ‘and planning to start on the graves from the hospital. It struck me that the old soldier might have had Greek Fire buried with him. It would be a way for us to get hold of some. I thought I might speak with Kytchyn.’
He nodded. ‘It’s worth a try, I suppose. If I had some, at least I could tell the king we might be able to make more. Do it, but don’t let Rich know what you’re about. Ask Grey for the address of the house where I’ve put Kytchyn and Mother Gristwood. Grey’s the only one who knows it. Almost the only one who’s safe now. And see Bealknap soon. Solve this, Matthew,’ he said with sudden passion. ‘Solve this.’
‘We will, my lord,’ Barak said.
Cromwell was thoughtful a moment. ‘Did you see the Holbein mural on your way in?’ he asked me.
I nodded.
‘I thought that would catch your eye. Realistic, is it not? The figures seem as though they could walk out into the hall.’ He picked up the quill and tore at the remaining vanes. ‘The king magnificent, calves thick and strong as a carthorse. You should see him now, his ulcerated leg so bad that sometimes they have to wheel him round the palace in a little cart.’
‘My lord,’ Barak said quickly, ‘it is dangerous to speak thus—’
Cromwell waved a hand. ‘It relieves me to talk, so you’ll listen. It’s my belief there’ll be no more little princes - he’s so ill I don’t think he’s capable. I think that’s why he was so shocked when he saw Anne of Cleves - he realized he couldn’t raise his member for her. He hopes he may with pretty little Catherine, I’m sure, but I wonder.’ He pulled the last of the vanes from the quill and threw down the bare stalk. ‘And if he can’t, then in a year or less the fault will be Catherine’s as now it is Queen Anne’s. And then Norfolk may find himself out of favour once more. I want to survive till then.’