by C. J. Sansom
Giles was taking a long time at his prayers. I fingered the thick ropes holding the beacon upright, tied tightly to the top of an iron pole that protruded from the centre of the huge bonfire and secured to stakes in the ground at the bottom.
I was conscious of pressure on my bladder. I looked round the churchyard and the trees that bordered the open space to make sure no one was there. I unlaced my hose and sighed with relief as I let out a jet of piss against the beacon. I finished and laced myself up again. I turned, then stood stock still, rigid with shock. Jennet Marlin stood ten feet from me. She wore a dark coat with a hood and her mouth was set in its grimmest expression. She was holding a crossbow, and it was aimed at my heart.
I stared at her, my mouth open. She shifted the weight of the crossbow slightly on her shoulder. I flinched, waiting for the bolt to thud into me. But though her hand was on the trigger she did not fire.
‘This time I have you,’ she said, her voice sharp as a file.
I glanced over her shoulder at the church, a black shape against the evening sky, the light from the chapel outlining the windows in a dim red glow. She gave a rictus of a smile and shook her head. ‘Do not look for help from the old man,’ she said.
‘What – what have you done to him?’
She looked at me with those large eyes. They were afire with gloating anger.
‘I have secured the church door with a spar of wood through the handles. He is trapped, that is all. I do not take life unless it is necessary.’
‘And mine?’ I asked. ‘Is it necessary to take mine?’
She did not answer. I saw the crossbow tremble in her arms a moment. She was at a great pitch of tension. I prayed her hand did not slip —
I knew I had to keep her talking as long as I could, keep her from pressing that trigger. ‘It was you who tried to spit me at the camp? You who let the bear loose and put that thorn under my horse’s saddle?’
‘Yes. Seeing you in the camp that first time was a lucky chance – I was walking down by the river.’ There was hatred in her look now. Why? What did she think I had done? ‘As for the bear, I knew from Tamasin that you had gone into York and I waited by the outbuildings for your return. I thought there would be a chance in the dark. You came back and when you walked through the church I ran along the side and got behind the bear’s cage. Oh, I have watched you for the last two weeks,’ she added with intensity. ‘From the windows of the manor, from the camp, from hidden places in the courtyard. When I saw you from the camp tonight, walking up the hill, I knew this was my best opportunity.’
‘You got that crossbow from the overturned cart.’
‘Yes.’ She seemed steadier now, eyeing me along the length of the weapon.
‘I thought someone was watching from the woods.’ Keep her talking, I thought, keep her talking. ‘You killed Oldroyd?’ I asked her.
‘Yes. Oldroyd had to die. He had that damned casket. He would not give it up to me even though I told him I came from Bernard.’
‘You are on a mission from your fiancé? So Bernard Locke was a conspirator?’
‘Yes, he was.’
‘But I thought you were a reformer?’
‘I am. Bernard regrets what he did. He wanted the contents of that box destroyed – they could endanger the throne, he told me. He has repented. Like me, he would save the King from treasonous conspiracies.’
I wondered whether Bernard Locke had truly repented. No, I thought – he has used this besotted woman as his catspaw.
Behind her, I saw a movement, a big dim shape edging towards her. It was Giles. He had got out of the church somehow and was approaching Jennet Marlin slowly, his stick raised in both hands, his expression intent as he tried to get closer to her without making a sound. I forced my eyes back to Jennet Marlin.
‘Bernard told me the papers were in the possession of Master Oldroyd of York, kept in a secret place at his house. He told me I would have to kill the glazier and take his keys from his body to get hold of them. He would never give them up.’
‘You toppled that defenceless man off his ladder, in cold blood.’
‘I had no choice.’ Her steely voice did not waver. ‘And was he not a conspirator, deserving of a traitor’s death? If it was not for his horse bolting when he fell, I would have had the keys to his house from his body, but that sounded the alarm.’
‘You heard us coming and hid in the church?’
‘Yes, you and that lout Barak nearly had me there. It was as well I had taken care to find keys. But then before I could get to Oldroyd’s house, you appeared with that box. A jewel casket, just as Bernard had described to me.’
‘And so you made friends with me, planning all the time to kill me. Because you thought I knew the contents of that box?’
Giles was right behind her now. He had lifted his stick high above her head with both arms but he hesitated – he must fear that if he struck her she would loose the bolt from the crossbow as she fell.
‘Yes, to see what I could find out. As you pretended to be my friend, laughing in your sleeve all the time because you knew that some of those papers incriminated Bernard. It was harder to be civil than to try to kill you. Every time I saw your crooked form I wanted to be sick —’
Now I saw the reason for her anger. ‘Mistress,’ I said, ‘I hardly saw the papers. I saw nothing about your fiancé.’
‘Nonsense. You do not trust Maleverer with what you know, but when you get to London you will reveal all to your master Cranmer. You must know—’
She never finished her sentence, for at that moment Giles brought his stick down on her head with all the force of his arms. There was a horrible sharp crack. Jennet gave a little moan of surprise, then toppled to the ground. The crossbow clicked, and I threw myself to the right. There was a thud as the bolt buried itself in the wood next to me. I looked ahead again: Jennet Marlin lay face down on the ground, her head hidden by the hood of her coat. Giles stood behind her, swaying slightly, eyes wide.
I ran across to where she lay, the crossbow by her side. I grasped her arm. It felt floppy, lifeless. I turned her over. She was dead, her dark curls wet with blood, her wide eyes staring up lifelessly, like those of a fish, all that frantic emotion gone. I turned aside, bent over and was violently sick.
I felt an arm on my shoulder. I stood up. Giles’s wide, staring eyes and a twitch in his cheek showed how shocked he was.
‘I have killed her?’ he asked in a whisper.
I nodded. ‘You saved my life. You heard all?’
‘Enough.’ He looked down at her body. ‘By God.’ He took a long, deep breath.
‘How did you get out?’
‘I have known Howlme church since I was a boy. When I could not open the main door I got out another way. There is a side door.’ He looked at Jennet Marlin’s body. ‘I was so afraid she would loose the bolt.’
I picked up the crossbow and took Giles’s arm. ‘Come,’ I said quietly. ‘We must go down to the camp. Maleverer has to know about this at once.’
Chapter Thirty-four
ON THE WAY BACK DOWN TO the camp I tried not to be impatient with Giles’s slow pace; the old man walked carefully with his stick, feeling his way along the path for it was dark now. I had picked up the crossbow and it hung from my hand.
‘Will Maleverer be at Howlme Manor?’ Giles asked.
‘I would think so. We should go there.’
‘It is hard to credit that a woman could do what she did.’
‘It can happen,’ I replied. At the foot of the hill we turned right and headed for the manor house. Giles looked very tired now. I put a hand on his arm.
‘Can you manage? Perhaps you should go back to the camp, find your tent and rest.’
‘No, I will come with you. Maleverer will want to see both of us.’
We reached the high wall that enclosed the grounds. The manor house was approached though a large gateway where soldiers stood guard. They would not let us through, but I persuaded one of them to fe
tch Maleverer. Giles sank down on a knoll beside the gate, folded his hands over the top of his cane and lowered his head.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked.
‘Yes, yes. I – I am in a little pain. Don’t fuss,’ he added with sudden asperity.
I looked at him with concern, remembering how he had collapsed at Fulford. There was a stir at the gate and Maleverer appeared. He loomed over us, frowning angrily.
‘God’s death, what is it now? The King is here.’ He looked at my face, then said sharply, ‘What’s happened?’
‘I have been attacked again, Sir William.’ I held up the crossbow. ‘With this. It was Jennet Marlin.’
‘What? That woman?’ He looked incredulous. ‘Where is she?’
‘Lying dead outside Howlme church.’
He gave me a long hard stare, then looked at Giles. ‘What’s this old fellow doing here?’
‘Master Wrenne was with me. He saved me.’
Giles looked up. ‘I had to strike her down,’ he said. ‘It was the only way.’
Maleverer held out a hand for the crossbow.
‘She stole it when that cart overturned,’ I told him.
‘Come inside,’ he snapped. ‘Both of you.’
He led the way up the path and into the Great Hall. There was no sign of the King, thank goodness. Maleverer led us through to a downstairs room that had been converted into an office, and sat behind his desk. We stood before him. In the candlelight that filled the room, Wrenne’s face looked white and pouchy.
‘Might Master Wrenne sit, Sir William?’ I asked. ‘He has had a shock.’ Maleverer looked at him and grunted assent. I pulled out a chair for the old man.
‘Thank you.’
‘Well? What happened?’
I told him what had taken place on the hill: Jennet Marlin’s revelation that it had been her trying to kill me, her certainty I had seen papers in the casket that incriminated her fiancé. He leaned back, thinking, then turned to Giles, who had sat silently throughout my narrative. He nodded at the stick he was holding between his knees.
‘You brained her with that?’
‘Yes.’
Giles looked down. He saw smears of blood on his hands and shuddered.
‘How much of what she said did you hear, before you struck her?’ I asked.
‘Only the end. I did not mean to kill her. I have never killed another person —’
‘Well, you did tonight.’ Maleverer looked at him contemptuously. ‘What’s the matter with you? You look as though you’re about to faint away. Seems you’ve a weak stomach for a lawyer.’
‘He has – he is unwell,’ I told Maleverer. He frowned anxiously at the old man.
‘Then he should be got out of here. The King won’t have illness in any house he is staying at. Guard!’ he called. A soldier hurried in, and Maleverer gestured to Giles. ‘Assist him to his tent. Find out where it is and take him there.’
The soldier helped Giles to his feet. He looked at me. ‘I am sorry,’ he said, then allowed himself to be helped out. There was a moment’s silence. Maleverer ran his fingers along the edge of his black beard, a rapid flick, flick. Then he reached down and pulled something out of a drawer in his desk. It was the jewel casket. He set it on the desk. I looked again upon the painting of Diana the huntress, dressed in the style of a hundred years ago, aiming her bow at a stag.
‘I’ve kept this by me since St Mary’s. I’ve sat looking at it, pondering over who could be behind this.’ He gave a bark of laughter. ‘I’ve often wished it could speak, tell me what it contained.’ He shook his head. ‘I never thought of
Mistress Marlin. I’ll have them search her room. She may have those papers hidden there.’
‘I did not suspect her either. But she was desperate to get her fiancé freed, it was all that mattered to her. And a desperate person can be more dangerous than the worst villain. You never know what they might do in their desperation, while a villain is always a villain.’
‘She was clever, too. I expect she stole the keys of St Mary’s church easily enough. Someone with a name as feared as Lady Rochford’s behind her could go where she willed at King’s Manor.’
‘It was a cold cleverness. She pretended to be my friend.’ I smiled sadly. ‘It softened me towards her. I wanted her friendship.’
He looked at me interrogatively. ‘Sweet on her, were you?’
I sighed. ‘No, Sir William, I was not. I always distrusted that obsessive quality about her. I think that obsessiveness enabled her to justify to herself what she was doing. Desperate people can think up reasons to justify almost anything, be they stupid or clever.’ I took a deep breath, then added, ‘She thought you had been responsible for Master Locke being put in the Tower, said you coveted his lands and hoped to see him attainted for treason.’
I braced myself for a storm, but Maleverer only laughed. ‘Insolent mare. I merely sent him south on the Privy Council’s orders. Though if his lands are attainted, as they will be now, I might buy some of them.’ A covetous look came into his eyes, and in the midst of our talk of traitors and murderers he gave a momentary smile at the thought of more profit. Perhaps soon he would have enough land to feel he had redeemed his name enough to marry.
He frowned at me. ‘What’s the matter with you? You still look worried.’
‘Some things still puzzle me. Why was she so certain I had seen all the papers in the casket? When she knocked me down at St Mary’s she must have seen I had only pulled out the topmost ones.’
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps she thought you’d already looked at them, and put them back.’
‘She believed I’d seen them all and was keeping my knowledge from you, perhaps to tell Cranmer.’
He looked at me hard. ‘She wasn’t right, was she?’ He tapped the casket with a finger. ‘We’ve only your word for how much you saw.’
‘I spoke the truth, Sir William.’
He gave me another disdainful look. ‘I’ll have her quarters turned upside down, and if we don’t find those papers hidden there I’ll have everyone associated with her questioned. Young Miss Reedbourne. Lady Rochford.’
‘Lady Rochford will not be pleased,’ I said. ‘And Tamasin will be terrified.’
‘Pox on her.’
I thought, if soldiers appear at her quarters Lady Rochford, and Tamasin too, will think the Queen and Culpeper have been found out. As perhaps they will be if those papers still exist. If. I looked at Maleverer. ‘Sir William, her aim was to destroy those papers. I think she may have done that long since, after she first took them at St Mary’s.’
He nodded, running his finger along the edge of his beard again. ‘If there is no trace of the papers we can assume that she got rid of them. She took them from Oldroyd and he was in with the conspirators.’
‘Yes. Bernard Locke told her he had repented. She told herself she was helping scotch the conspirators’ plans, as well as destroying evidence that would incriminate him. Though I think Locke’s main concern may well have been to save his own skin.’
Maleverer nodded. ‘Many held in the Tower come to see things that way. Especially if they’ve been shown the rack, and heard the screams.’
‘Not Broderick.’
He grunted. ‘He’s not there yet. Well, if she has destroyed the papers, she did us a favour. Though the Privy Council would have preferred to see them.’ He got up. ‘Locke will have some stiff questioning now. I am going to start the search.’ I could almost feel the nervous energy coming from his big frame. ‘And I’d better have that bitch’s body fetched down, before some villager stumbles over it. Until I come back, do not move from this room, do you understand?’
HE LEFT THE ROOM, his robe whisking behind him. I sat down in the seat Wrenne had vacated. I thought, Maleverer is not the cleverest of men, he gets his way by bullying. He despises me but likes to pick my brain. I sighed and looked round the room. It might have been a study once. An old tapestry of a hunting scene hung behind Maleverer’s desk. Had the exe
cuted Robert Constable sat gazing at it, as I did now? I turned away and looked out of the window at the dark night for some time, thinking.
I thought of Jennet Marlin. Even now I could not help but feel sorry for her. Her love for Bernard Locke must have been an obsession since childhood. She had not been unattractive, she could have made another match had she not fixed her heart so desperately on Locke. What manner of man was he, I wondered. A charismatic rogue perhaps, who could get women to do anything he asked. I had come across those in my career, usually when they had bled some woman of all her money and she was trying to recover it at law. Had Locke used that obsessive love of Jennet’s to turn her into a murderess, to save him from execution? If so, he was worse than her. I shuddered as her face came to mind, her expression as she looked at me over the crossbow.
I looked at the box. Who did you originally belong to, I wondered. Someone rich. I leaned forward and opened it, looking into the empty interior. There was still a faint smell of old, musty papers. Had Jennet Marlin destroyed them all? If she had, anything there about the Queen and Culpeper was gone. How little I care about that, I thought; I have no loyalty left to Henry. Perhaps a false King. He will be relieved indeed if that was what the Blaybourne papers said.
I jumped violently as the door banged open and Maleverer reappeared. He shut the door and frowned down at me.
‘What are you fiddling with that box for?’ He threw himself down in his seat. ‘There’s no sign of the papers in her quarters. Just letters from Bernard Locke in the Tower, tied up with ribbon. They say nothing, they just say how much they love each other. Like turtle-doves.’ He snorted. ‘I’m having the ladies questioned to see if they remember anything that might help us, but I doubt they will. I think you were right, she destroyed those papers. Perhaps threw them on to one of the campfires in York. ‘Go back to your tent now, I’ll call you if need be. There’s a soldier outside. He will take you back.’
‘Very well, Sir William.’ I rose, bowed and left the room. A soldier waiting outside led me out of Howlme Manor. It was a relief to be back in the open air.