by C. J. Sansom
‘I think it is too late. My vision blurs, I feel faint all the time.’ With a great effort, he pulled a skinny hand from beneath the covers and grasped my wrist. I tried not to flinch at the unexpected gesture. ‘I have never believed in God,’ he whispered, still fixing me with his agonized gaze. ‘Not since I was a child. The world is a battleground, predators and prey. The rules and conventions of the law only disguise the fact. But now I am frightened. The Catholics say if you confess your sins and repent at the end, God will receive you into Heaven. I need a priest, one of the old type.’
I took a deep breath. ‘I will have Dr Malton fetched now, and he may know a priest who will confess you. But I think, Bealknap, with proper treatment you may come round. I will send Margaret back in.’ I tried to rise, but he still held me fast by the wrist, his grip surprisingly strong.
‘You believe, don’t you?’ he asked.
I hesitated. ‘I have no - certainty. I have not had for some time.’ He looked surprised. ‘I always thought you did. All your concern for rules and ethics, the way you always looked down on me, I thought you were one of the godly folk.’
‘No.’
‘Then why help me now? When you hate me? I have done some hard things to you. Because you looked down on me as though I were a louse, not a man.’ A brief flash of anger in the pale eyes.
‘You are still a fellow human being.’
Bealknap seemed to think for a moment. He bit his lip, showing long yellow teeth. Then he said, ‘The priest may not come - in time. At least I can tell you about one sin, tell you what I did. Though I do not know why he asked—’
‘What do you mean, Bealknap? You are making no sense.’
He closed his eyes. ‘Near two weeks ago. After you lost me the case involving that marsh cottar. The next day a man called at my Chambers. His name is Colin Felday.’ He paused for breath. ‘He is a solicitor, he hangs around the Westminster Sanctuary looking for clients and I am one of the barristers he brings them to. Not a - respectable man, one of those you would disapprove of.’ He tried to laugh, but the cracking sound turned into a cough. He opened his eyes again, full of fear and pain. ‘He said he had a client who would pay good money for information I could give him about you.’
‘What sort of information?’
‘Anything I could give. About your work habits, where you lived. Even about what sort of man you were. About your man Barak. I told him you were a starchy prig, bitter about your fate as a hunchback. I said you were a persistent lawyer. Like a damned terrier dog. And no fool.’ He tried to laugh again. ‘Oh, no, never that.’
I stared down at him. This was the killer, it must be. This was how he had found out about me; this solicitor had perhaps written to Roger at his instruction. ‘Who is Felday’s client?’ I asked sharply. ‘What is his name?’
‘He said he could not tell me that. Only that he wished you no good. That was enough for me.’ His eyes were full of anger now. This might be a confession, but I saw there was no real contrition. Only terrible fear at the prospect of death.
‘I think Felday’s client has killed five people,’ I said. ‘I have been hunting him. And he has been hunting me. He sliced my arm open, and hurt Barak’s wife badly.’
Bealknap’s eyes slid away. ‘I didn’t know that. No one can blame me for that.’ I smiled wryly at the reappearance of the old Bealknap; somehow I knew then he would survive.
‘Where does Felday live?’ I asked.
‘Some cheap lodgings by the cathedral. Addle Hill.’
‘I will have Guy fetched here,’ I said quietly. ‘And I will ask about a priest.’ Bealknap nodded weakly, but did not open his eyes. His confession had exhausted him, or perhaps he could not meet my eye now. I left him, closing the door quietly behind me.
DOROTHY Was sitting in her chair by the fire, Margaret on a stool opposite her. They both looked drained. ‘Margaret,’ I said. ‘Could you bear to go back and sit with him? I think if he gets some liquid into him that would be good.’
‘Is he going to die?’ Dorothy asked bluntly after Margaret left the room.
‘I do not know. He thinks he is. I am going to have Guy fetched here. Bealknap wants a priest too, one who can confess him.’
She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Bealknap never struck me as a believer in the old ways. Or in anything save lining his pockets.’
‘I think for him it is a sort of insurance.’ I shook my head. ‘He is a strange man. It is known he has a massive chest of gold locked away in his chambers. But no wife, nor friends, only enemies. What drove him to be so?’
Dorothy shook her head. ‘Who can say? Well, I hope he lives. I would not want another death here. Thank you for coming, Matthew.’ She smiled. ‘Margaret and I - we did not know what to do. Somehow we could not think.’
‘That is hardly surprising in the circumstances.’
She got up. ‘At least let me give you some supper. I’ll wager you have not had any.’
‘No. There is something I must do urgently.’
‘About these killings?’
‘Yes. A possible lead.’
She came over to me, and took my hand. She looked down at it. ‘You have been through so much. You look more tired than ever.’
‘I think we may be near the end of the trail.’
‘Seeing that man Bealknap lying on the doorstep, so white, it brought everything back. When I first saw Roger’s body.’ Suddenly she burst into tears, bringing her hands up to her face. I forgot myself, and took her in my arms.
‘Oh Dorothy, poor Dorothy . . .’
She looked up at me with her tear-streaked face. Looked into my eyes. And I felt if I kissed her now, she would respond. But then she blinked and took a step back. She smiled sadly. ‘Poor Matthew,’ she said quickly. ‘Running from pillar to post to help me.’
‘Whatever I can do, at any time.’
‘I know,’ she answered quietly.
I bowed and went out. On the front doorstep I paused, suddenly overcome with emotion. She did feel something for me, I felt that now. I looked out over Gatehouse Court. It was dark, only a few lights at the windows. I took a deep breath, and began walking briskly homeward. I would send Peter to fetch Guy. Barak and I had another mission now, to find Felday. My heart, already beating fast, beat harder and my legs shook a little at the thought that perhaps at last we had found our route to the killer.
Chapter Thirty-three
I WALKED RAPIDLY back to the house. As I stepped inside I felt suddenly faint. I stood with my back against the door for a moment, taking deep breaths. Then I climbed the stairs to Barak and Tamasin’s room. I knocked, and Barak’s voice bade me enter.
They made, at first sight, a peaceful domestic scene. Tamasin was sitting at the table, sewing; Barak was lying on the bed. He looked relaxed, but then I noticed a slight frown on his brow, and one foot jiggled up and down.
‘Jack,’ I said, ‘I am afraid I need you for a while.’
‘Not another,’ he said, his eyes widening.
‘No.’ Tamasin looked at us with anxious eyes. I smiled reassuringly. ‘It is all right. We need to go on an errand.’
‘What’s happened?’ Barak asked as we walked back down the stairs. He seemed glad to be called to action now he knew we were not going to gaze at another tortured victim. I told him about Bealknap’s confession about the solicitor Felday. ‘You go drinking with some of the jobbing solicitors,’ I said. ‘Do you know him?’
‘I’ve had him pointed out to me,’ Barak answered. ‘Thin, sharp-faced fellow. Gets most of his clients from the Westminster Sanctuary, he’s well known down there.’ He looked at me seriously. ‘My friends said he will do anything for money. And they’re no angels.’
I paused at the bottom of the stairs. ‘We must go and see him now. If this client of his is the killer - and who else would be asking questions like that about us? - we can identify him at last.’ I hesitated in the doorway. ‘I wonder, should we fetch Harsnet?’
‘We shou
ld get to Felday at once,’ Barak said. ‘Take our chance now.’
‘Yes. It is the best opportunity that has come our way yet.’
Barak’s face set hard. ‘So that’s how the arsehole knew where I lived, and he would have been told you work at the Court of Requests. He’s probably been following us around.’
‘So much for supernatural powers granted by the devil. Nothing supernatural about getting a crooked solicitor to get information from a crooked barrister. And he must have money, if he can afford to set a solicitor and a barrister as spies.’
‘We still don’t know how he’s been able to follow us unseen.’
‘We soon will.’
‘What are you going to do about Bealknap?’
‘Send Peter to fetch Guy. Let’s find him.’
‘I’d leave that old arsehole to rot.’
‘Not in Dorothy’s house. Come on.’
I went to the kitchen. Philip Orr was seated at the table, a mug of beer in his hands, a stool creaking under his weight as he talked to the two boys, Timothy and Peter, who were sitting at his feet. ‘And then the King entered the city,’ he said dramatically. ‘You’ve never seen anyone like His Majesty. A huge man, taller by a head than all the courtiers and servants who followed him. Jewels glinting in his cap and on his doublet. And beside him Queen Anne Boleyn, that was later found to be such a wicked strumpet—’ He stood hastily as we came in. The boys too scrambled to their feet.
‘Sorry, sir,’ Orr said. ‘I was just telling them about my time as a city constable—’
‘That is all right. But I have a job for Peter to do. Come,’ I said to the older boy, ‘I will write a note. I want you to take it down to Bucklersbury, quick as you can.’ I looked at Timothy. ‘Is it not time you were abed?’
‘Yes, sir.’
I had been pleased to see Peter and Timothy side by side. There was a new sparkle in Timothy’s eyes, that had been so dull before. ‘Goodnight, then,’ I said. Peter followed us out. I went into the parlour, hastily scribbled a note to Guy and gave it to him. He hurried off. ‘Right,’ I said to Barak. ‘Let us see what good Master Felday has to say for himself. Addle Hill’s not far. Bring your sword.’
We Walked quickly along Fleet Street to the city wall. The guard there, seeing my lawyer’s robes, let us through. The huge bulk of St Paul’s Cathedral was no more than a vast dark shape ahead of us. It was a dark night; the moon hidden by clouds, and I smelt more rain in the air.
‘You and Tamasin made a peaceful-looking scene just now.’
‘I’m trying to behave. But it’s hard with this business constantly knocking round my head.’
‘It will come right.’
As we turned into Carter Lane we saw a commotion ahead of us. Two constables had a ragged-looking man by the collar. ‘I only want to sleep in the doorway,’ he said. ‘It’s going to rain again.’
‘Then get wet!’ The constables poked him with the end of their staffs, sending him staggering into the street. ‘Be gone, mange-hound!’ The vagrant turned away and the constables, hearing our footsteps, turned to us. ‘I am a barrister visiting his solicitor,’ I said as they held up their lanterns. They bowed and let us pass.
Addle Hill was a long street leading down towards the river. At the top the houses were large old four-storey buildings with overhanging eaves, most of them dilapidated-looking. Built on Thames mud as they were, many had settled and shifted with the years and some looked ready to topple over. A woman peered at us from a doorway, then melted back into the darkness.
‘Good few whores round here,’ Barak said quietly.
‘No one else about, though. We’re going to have to knock at a lot of doors to find him.’
A group of figures was approaching up the street, some carrying lanterns, conversing quietly. A man and woman left the group and, calling goodnight, went into one of the houses. ‘We can ask these folk,’ Barak said.
‘Excuse me,’ I said, stepping into the path of the group. An old man at their head raised a lantern. I saw that he, and the people behind him, wore dark clothes and were carrying Bibles. They must be on their way back from some meeting. I asked him if he might know where a solicitor named Felday lived. He shook his head, but a young man stepped forward. ‘I know him,’ he said. He took in my lawyer’s robe. ‘Is he instructing you, sir?’
‘I have some business with him.’
‘He is not well esteemed among his neighbours,’ the young man said censoriously. He was no more than twenty. ‘He is known as unscrupulous and irreligious.’
There was a murmur of agreement within the group. I frowned at the young man. ‘My business is my affair,’ I answered sharply. ‘Now, will you have the Christian charity to tell me where he lives?’
The young man shook his head sorrowfully, then pointed down the hill. ‘Half a dozen houses down, on the right, the house with the blue door.’
‘Thank you,’ I answered brusquely and stepped out of their way. The group moved on. ‘He spoke irreligiously, Thomas,’ one of them said loudly enough for me to hear. ‘Talking lightly of Christian charity.’
Barak looked after them. ‘More godly men,’ he said. ‘They never miss a chance to tell off someone they think less pure than them.’
‘They’re bold, walking about in a group like that after dark with Bonner after them all.’
‘Probably hoping to be martyrs, like half these godly folk.’
I took a deep breath. ‘Right, let us find Felday.’
THE House we had been directed to was less shabby than the rest; the blue door recently painted. I tried the handle but it was locked. I knocked several times before the door was answered by a woman in her thirties. She smiled at us. ‘Yes, sirs?’
‘We are seeking Master Felday.’
The smile turned immediately to a scowl. ‘You and several others,’ she said. ‘He’s not been in for days. I keep having to answer the door to people looking for him.’
‘Perhaps we could go to his rooms. Where are they?’
‘First floor, on the left. And tell him when you find him that if he goes away again, to let people know. It’s not a neighbour’s duty to answer the door every five minutes.’ She delivered her last words to our backs as we hurried up the stairs.
There was a wide landing on the first floor, two doors leading off. The layout was similar to the Old Barge where Barak and Tamasin lived, only larger and cleaner. We knocked loudly on the left-hand door. There was no reply. Barak tried it. It was locked.
‘Where’s the arsehole got to?’ he asked. ‘Think he’s skipped?’
‘I don’t know.’ I hesitated for a moment, then said, ‘Break it down.’
He looked at me. ‘You sure? That’s breaking and entering.’
‘We have Cranmer behind us if anyone complains.’
‘We should get some light first. I’ll go and ask that woman for a candle.’
He went back down the stairs while I looked at the closed door. I wondered if part of the killer’s deal with Felday - for I was sure the killer was his client - was that he should make himself scarce for a while, in case I managed to follow the trail back to him. If so, I would find him.
Barak returned, carrying a candle. ‘I think that woman downstairs is a high-class doxy. She asked if the lawyer wanted to visit her. I told her you’d think about it.’ He grinned, but I sensed the anxiety behind his clowning.
‘She’ll be disappointed, then. Give me the candle, let’s get inside.’
Barak took a step back, then kicked hard and expertly at the lock. The door flew open with a crash, banging against the wall. Inside, darkness and an unexpected breath of cool air. I cupped a hand before the candle-flame to protect it.
‘There’s a window open somewhere,’ I said.
‘If he’s gone away maybe he left the window open to air the place. It’s a bit whiffy.’ Barak drew his sword and we stepped carefully inside. There were several doors leading off the hallway. One was half-open; that was where the dr
aught of air was coming from. Barak drew his sword and with the point gently pushed it fully open.
Inside I made out a wall lined with shelves. Under the open window was a large desk, and my hand tightened on my dagger as I saw the figure of a man lying slumped across it. He wore a white shirt. One of his arms lay on a little pile of papers; the corner of the top page waved up and down in the light breeze.
We went in. Barak prodded the prone figure lightly with his sword-tip. He did not stir. I brought the candle over and shone the light on the man’s head. He was young, no more than thirty, with thick brown hair and a thin, handsome face, the features delicate. His eyes were shut, his expression peaceful. He looked as though he had fallen asleep.
‘It’s Felday,’ Barak said.
Something moved in the room. We both jumped round. Barak pointed his sword at a corner. Then he gave a tense bark of laughter as we realized the edge of a brightly coloured wall-hanging had been caught by the breeze.
‘Jesus, my heart was in my mouth there,’ he said.
‘Mine too.’
He went over to the window and closed it, then used the candle to light a lamp that stood on a table. Then he took the man gently by the shoulders and lifted him upright in his chair. It was hard work, because his shirt-front was a mass of blood which had flowed on to the table and congealed there. Barak laid down his sword and ripped the man’s shirt open. I winced at the sight of a large stab-wound in his chest, right over his heart.
‘At least this poor fellow died quickly,’ Barak said quietly. ‘A stab to the heart, he wouldn’t have known what hit him.’ He looked at me. ‘Is this the sixth victim?’
‘No,’ I said quietly. ‘This killing was quickly and simply done. Not like the others. And I see no symbolic linking to waters drying up.’
‘You mean someone else killed Felday?’ Barak asked, astonished.
‘No, I think it was our killer,’ I answered quietly. ‘But not as part of his sequence. I think Felday was killed in case we found our way to him, or in case he talked.’ I sighed. ‘Bealknap told Felday I was persistent.’ I looked at poor Felday. ‘I think the killer came to visit him, calling on him as a client to his solicitor. They were probably sitting talking across the table when he thrust the dagger in his heart.’ Sure enough, an empty chair was positioned opposite where Felday sat. I looked again at the solicitor’s oddly peaceful face. ‘By the sound of it Felday was an irreligious man. Just as well for him; if he had been an apostate from the godly men, he would no doubt have been incorporated into the sequence, and he would have died slowly and dramatically.’ I began prowling round the room. ‘He didn’t want Felday found quickly. That’s why he left the window open, to keep the room cool and prevent the smell of death going through the house too quickly.’