Revelation: A Matthew Shardlake Mystery (Matthew Shardlake Mysteries)

Home > Historical > Revelation: A Matthew Shardlake Mystery (Matthew Shardlake Mysteries) > Page 13
Revelation: A Matthew Shardlake Mystery (Matthew Shardlake Mysteries) Page 13

by C. J. Sansom


  ‘But would this marriage be safe for her?’ Thomas Seymour interjected. ‘Anne Boleyn pressed the King too far on religion and was executed. And Catherine Howard was beheaded not much more than a year ago.’ I remembered again that glimpse of Catherine Parr I had caught in the funeral procession, her expression of fear.

  Cranmer nodded. ‘Yes. It is no wonder she has not yet accepted. For the first time, Matthew, a prospective wife has refused the King’s proposal. But he wants a companion in his old age. Lady Catherine has placed her decision in God’s hands, I know. The situation could not be more delicate. An extraordinarily brutal murder close to her, still more now there has been a second, would worry the King, for he is a superstitious man. Two of these shocking pointless deaths. People will start to say this murderer is possessed.’

  ‘They are already,’ Harsnet said. ‘At first we feared the killer’s purpose was to make a scandal that would imperil these marriage negotiations. But if so, why strike again?’

  ‘To make a spectacle that would be linked firmly to the doctor’s death?’ I suggested.

  ‘It has not been so far,’ Cranmer said. ‘And it must not be. That is why we wished to send Master Elliard’s death officially to sleep. Unofficially I will leave no stone unturned to find the killer. And Catherine Parr, like the rest, thinks Dr Gurney had a sudden seizure.’

  Now I understood the strain in their faces. The King did not look kindly on those who kept secrets from him. I realized I was involved again in something that could get me in bad odour with the King. Something dangerous. A second time, I might not survive. Yet I had sworn; there was nothing to do but go on.

  ‘The manner of these deaths was monstrous,’ Cranmer said, fingering the silver pectoral cross that hung round his neck.

  Thomas Seymour laughed scornfully. ‘No more than the things I have seen in Hungary.’ He laid a hand on his gold-embroidered scabbard. ‘I saw the Emperor’s defeated army returning from Budapest. They failed to take it from the Turks, but they brought back as a trophy a great cart full of the heads of slain Turks, with one live Turk on top, slipping and rolling, covered with blood and bits of rag from the dead men’s turbans. Everyone laughed as the cart tail was opened and the Turk rolled out screaming among all his comrades’ heads.’ Sir Thomas smiled; he had laughed too.

  ‘That was war,’ his brother said. ‘Cruel but honourable.’

  I looked at Hertford, wondering what he might have seen and done in Scotland.

  ‘Well, Matthew,’ Cranmer said. ‘You come fresh to this matter, and you knew poor Elliard well. Where do you think we should go next?’

  They all looked at me. I squared my shoulders. ‘I would suggest we find out whether Roger and Dr Gurney had any acquaintances, or any clients, in common. Though it would be strange for someone to hate two men so viciously.’

  ‘I have made an extensive list of Dr Gurney’s patients and friends,’ Harsnet said.

  ‘And I can do the same for Roger.’ I looked at them. ‘With his widow’s help.’

  ‘Very well.’ Cranmer nodded. ‘But she is to know nothing of Gurney.’ I hated the thought of not being frank with Dorothy, but saw it must be so.

  ‘How old was Dr Gurney?’ I asked.

  ‘Old. Past fifty.’

  ‘And his build?’

  ‘His build?’ Harsnet looked puzzled. ‘He was a small, spare man, by the look of his body.’

  ‘As was Roger. Our killer had to carry Roger to the Lincoln’s Inn fountain, and no doubt Gurney to the marshes. Almost as if he chose small men to kill, men he could carry.’

  ‘What were Master Elliard’s views on religion?’ Harsnet asked.

  ‘He was a reformer.’

  ‘As was Dr Gurney. A safely moderate one, though, these days.’ He sounded almost disapproving.

  ‘So was Roger. There seem to be more and more things in common between them.’

  ‘Which encourages the view that this has been done by the papists to scotch the King’s marriage,’ Harsnet said. ‘Jesu, they are capable of anything. They would devour poor Protestants as beasts eat grass.’

  ‘And you, Master Shardlake,’ Hertford asked quietly. ‘What are your religious views? They say you are a Laodicean, a man of little faith.’

  ‘Matthew would not harm our cause,’ Cranmer interposed. ‘So long as he thought our methods just, eh?’ That sad smile of his again. ‘That will not be a problem here.’

  ‘Who is he to tell us what is just?’ Thomas Seymour scoffed. ‘A crookback lawyer.’

  His brother turned on him with sudden anger. ‘God’s wounds, Thomas, I will have you kept out of this if you say another word! I’ll warrant this man will be far more help than you!’

  Thomas Seymour looked chastened at the fresh reminder of where the power lay. Cranmer turned to me. ‘Matthew, I apologize again for Sir Thomas.’

  ‘It does not matter, my lord.’ Though it did. Why was this foolish boor involved? ‘If I may,’ I went on, ‘I would like to talk to the labourer who found the first body, and visit the scene. These correspondences with Roger’s death are so close, they may help us.’

  Cranmer looked at Harsnet. ‘Where is the man now, Gregory? ’

  ‘I had him locked up for a few days to impress the need for silence on him. He’s back home now, I’ll have him sent for.’

  ‘Thank you, coroner.’

  ‘I want you and Gregory to work together on this,’ Cranmer said.

  ‘Might I bring in my man Barak? He could be of much use.’

  Cranmer smiled. ‘Ah, yes, him. Yes, I know Lord Cromwell trusted him. But no one else. And not that ex-monk doctor. He cannot help us over Dr Gurney; he has been buried for weeks.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘You will keep me closely informed. Contact me here and only through my secretary, Ralph Morice. I trust no one else.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Cranmer stood up. Harsnet and I followed, bowing low.

  ‘Gregory, Matthew,’ Cranmer said, ‘I pray to Our Saviour you may be able to resolve this.’

  ‘Amen, my lord,’ Harsnet answered feelingly.

  ‘I believe you have put Adam Kite’s case into the Court of Requests?’ Cranmer asked me suddenly.

  ‘Yes, my lord. I have applied to have his fees remitted, and to make sure he is cared for. And I am having a physician examine the question of his sanity.’

  ‘I will see the Privy Council does not stand in your way,’ he said.

  ‘So far as Kite’s fees and his care are concerned, it was mentioned yesterday, and your name was a provocation to Sir Richard Rich. Who is the doctor you have instructed - Dr Malton?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Cranmer nodded, considering, then looked at me again seriously. ‘Neither Lord Hertford nor I would want the boy released, unless he was cured to the extent that it was certain there would be no more crazed public demonstrations. He must be kept secure.’

  ‘In times of trial, Christians must show the wisdom of serpents as well as the innocence of doves,’ Hertford said. He looked sad for a moment.

  ‘I understand, my lord.’

  Cranmer smiled. ‘Good. Make sure that old ex-monk does not turn him papist.’ I looked at him. So he knew about Guy’s past, he had probably had enquiries made about him. Lord Hertford, overhearing, looked at me curiously as he stepped past me. He bowed and swept away, leaving me alone with Harsnet in the corridor. We walked away together. Harsnet seemed a little uneasy with me. He seemed to ponder a moment, then said, ‘I am sorry for the way I had to conduct the inquest. I hope you understand now why that was necessary.’

  ‘I understand why you did it, sir,’ I answered neutrally. I looked at him, wondering what he would be like to work with. A clever man, but a religious radical, I guessed. When the King had defied the Pope to marry Anne Boleyn ten years before, he had allowed Thomas Cromwell to install in the Royal household men who were far more radical reformers than he was - even Lutherans. Since Cromwell’s f
all, the King was steadily moving back towards the old religious practices, and most reformers bent to the wind, at least in public. But some radicals remained, clinging on to their posts through ability and cunning.

  ‘I fear for the Lady Catherine Parr,’ he said. ‘I have met her, a good, sweet lady. I hope the killer did not get to the doctor through someone in her household.’

  ‘That is not how he got to Roger.’

  ‘No. But then what is the connection?’ He looked me seriously. ‘We must find it, Serjeant Shardlake. I agree it would be useful for you to talk to the man who found Dr Gurney. I will arrange that, send the message to your house. And you will prepare a list of everyone that Master Elliard knew - clients, friends, possible enemies.’

  ‘Yes I will speak to his clerk.’ I took a deep breath. ‘And his widow.’ I looked at him. ‘What of the body? May it be released for the funeral?’

  ‘Of course.’ Harsnet looked uncomfortable again.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Somewhere a clock struck one. I had an appointment with the Kites that afternoon at Lincoln’s Inn, and I had to see Dorothy.

  We passed into Lambeth Palace yard, where the sweet smell of wet grass met us, unfamiliar after those weeks of snow. I turned to Harsnet. ‘I do not understand Sir Thomas Seymour’s involvement. He seems—’

  ‘Unreliable? A foolish braggart?’ The coroner smiled wryly. ‘He is all that and more. A man of proud conceit, born to mischief. An elbow-hanger on his brother. But we are stuck with him.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Thomas Seymour wished to marry Catherine Parr. And she was in love with him. Heaven knows why, though even sensible women may have their heads turned. He has had to step aside for the King. But he has made his brother involve him in this. To protect her interests, he says. If Lord Hertford has one weakness, it is devotion to Thomas. But Thomas is something even worse than a papist.’

  ‘What?’

  I saw disgust in Harsnet’s look. ‘An atheist,’ he said. ‘A man who denies God.’

  Chapter Ten

  HARSNET LEFT ME at the river, where I caught a wherry back to Temple Stairs and walked up to Lincoln’s Inn. The fierce anger I felt after the inquest had been replaced by sober fear; as I thought of the mighty men in that room my stomach twisted and knotted with anxiety. Yet I told myself that at least this time there was no ambiguity, we were all clearly on the same side in wanting this killer caught.

  It was a relief to find Barak in chambers, working at his desk beside young Skelly. I inclined my head to Barak that he should follow me to my room. Skelly looked at us through the glasses he wore for his weak sight, his expression sad. I guessed he felt excluded, left out of the events whirling round Lincoln’s Inn. Well, he was safer out of it all.

  I told Barak all that had transpired at Lambeth Palace. I had expected him to show pleasure at the prospect of some excitement, but he heard me in silence and then sat frowning. ‘That Thomas Seymour’s a dangerous character,’ he said. ‘Lord Cromwell distrusted him and blocked his advancement, though he respected his brother.’

  ‘His romantic interest in Catherine Parr complicates matters.’

  ‘He’s known as an indiscreet woman-chaser. Sounds like an indiscreet man is the last thing this business needs, if Cranmer’s keeping this from the King.’

  ‘I know. But I am bound to assist them, I promised Dorothy.’ I looked at him. ‘But you do not need to be involved if you do not wish,’ I said. ‘There is no reason for you to place yourself in danger.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ll help.’ But he still looked uneasy. ‘Though I don’t understand any of it. One man killed as your friend is strange enough, but two?’

  ‘Could the killer be mad? Someone who conceived a wild hatred for Roger and that doctor, perhaps developed a belief they had wronged him?’

  ‘A mad person couldn’t have organized and carried through something like these murders.’

  ‘No. The killer tricked Roger cleverly with those letters. Maybe did something similar with the doctor. Took them to a lonely spot, drugged them somehow, then carried them to the fountain and the tidal pool, and slit their throats.’ I shuddered.

  ‘That time you disturbed an intruder near the Elliards’ lodgings, maybe he was looking over Gatehouse Court? Preparing the way.’

  ‘That would mean he was unfamiliar with Lincoln’s Inn. Yet he knew enough about the law to fake a solicitor’s letter for Roger, and enough about medicine to be able to make dwale.’ I shook my head. It occurred to me that if I had come out from Roger and Dorothy’s a little earlier that night I might have encountered the killer. Would he have killed me too, lest I identify him later?

  ‘I don’t understand how this arsehole got to know them,’ Barak said. ‘And he must have done.’

  ‘Yes. And who could possibly have hated Roger enough to make that ghastly display in the fountain?’ I looked at him seriously. ‘It was a display, wasn’t it? He was meant to be found like that, in a public place. And by the sound of it, Dr Gurney too.’

  Barak nodded slowly. ‘I came across some strange things when I worked for Lord Cromwell, some grim things. But I never heard of anything like this before, never.’

  ‘Nor I.’ We said nothing for a moment, then I roused myself.

  ‘Come, we do not know enough yet to speculate. We must think of practical steps.’

  ‘All right. Where do we start?’

  ‘First I am going to prepare a list of Roger’s clients and acquaintances, to see if he had any in common with Dr Gurney. I will go across now and speak to Roger’s clerk, and to Dorothy. How was she on the journey back?’

  ‘Quiet. But you could see she was upset at how the inquest went.’

  ‘Yes.’ I sighed. ‘I must be careful how much I tell her. I should like you to come with me to meet the man who found the doctor’s body, out by the river. Harsnet is arranging it.’

  ‘What’s Harsnet like on closer acquaintance?’

  ‘One of the pure Bible-men, I think. But his feet are on the ground. Clever, efficient.’ Something struck me. ‘But many coroners are not. And we are at the junction of four coroners’ jurisdictions - Surrey, Kent, Middlesex and London. I think Harsnet should check there have been no other killings like this in the other jurisdictions. I’ll suggest it to him.’

  ‘Gib Rooke said a cottar had been killed horribly.’

  ‘Not in the same way as Roger, or he would have said. But it might be worth talking to him. Good idea. Thank you, Barak,’ I added encouragingly. ‘See how you help me?’

  ‘Glad I help someone,’ he said gloomily.

  I hesitated, then said, ‘Is that aimed at Tamasin?’

  He shrugged. ‘She’s been complaining I go out too much. I won’t be told where I can and can’t go by a woman.’

  ‘Maybe she worries about who you might be seeing.’ I ventured.

  ‘She’d do better to stop her complaining and mopishness. Then her company might be worth cultivating.’

  ‘She is still suffering the loss of the child, Barak,’ I said quietly.

  ‘As I think you are. Surely that is something you could share?’

  I saw from the anger that leaped into his face that I had gone too far. ‘That’s our business,’ he said roughly. ‘If you are going across to see Mistress Elliard, sir, remember Adam Kite’s parents will be here at three.’ With that, he turned and left the room.

  AS I WALKED ACROSS Gatehouse Court I got curious looks from the passing lawyers. News of the adjourned inquest would have been brought by the jurors, some of whom had seen me leave with Harsnet and Seymour. Well, their curiosity would have to go unsatisfied. I went into Roger’s chambers and greeted his clerk.

  ‘Good day, Bartlett,’ I said. ‘How are things here?’

  ‘We’re coping, sir,’ he replied in his Bristol burr. ‘Mistress Elliard has asked me to arrange the funeral. Can the body be released now?’

  ‘Yes. The coroner has approved it.’

 
; ‘And there’s two cases in court this week.’

  I bit my lip. I would have little enough time for my own work now, let alone Roger’s. ‘I think we must pass his cases on,’ I said. ‘To barristers we can trust to pay for work Roger has already done. I can give you some names.’

  ‘And I will chase them and see they do pay, sir.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I smiled gratefully.

  ‘Master Elliard was always good to me. He was a fine man.’ The clerk blinked back tears.

  ‘Yes, he was.’ I hesitated. ‘But a lawyer always makes enemies. Could there possibly have been someone, a client perhaps, or even a lawyer he had bested, who might have taken against him?’

  ‘I can’t think of anyone, sir. No one at all. Everyone liked Master Elliard, sir.’

  ‘I know. But can you make me a list of all the clients and lawyers he had professional dealings with since he came back from Bristol? Can you have that for me by this evening?’

  ‘I’ll set to it, sir.’ He hesitated. ‘If I may ask, what is to happen now? The inquest was adjourned, they say.’

  ‘There is to be an investigation, and I am part of it. That is all I can say now, Bartlett. That list may help.’ I looked at his honest face. ‘What will you do now? Go back to Bristol?’

  ‘I’d as soon stay in London, all my family are with me here.’

  ‘Then I’ll see if I can get you a job in another chambers when Roger’s work is wound up.’

  His face lit up. ‘Thank you. You - you are a good man, sir.’ ‘I hope so, Bartlett. Though not all would agree.’

  I MOUNTED the stairs to the rooms above. Old Elias answered my knock and bowed me in. He still looked stricken. Margaret came out of the parlour. ‘How is your mistress?’ I asked in a whisper.

  ‘Quiet, sir. She was so angry after that hearing I thought she’d break down, but she hasn’t. She’s sitting in her usual place by the fire.’ She hesitated. ‘She’s been hoping you would bring news.’

  ‘Thank you, Margaret. I will go to her.’ I noticed the girl’s full cheeks were pale. The servants’ lives had been turned upside down too, their futures suddenly uncertain.

 

‹ Prev