Lamentation (The Shardlake Series Book 6) (59 page)

I glanced at Barak, who sat stroking his beard, frowning hard. It was an outlandish, extraordinary story, yet it fitted what Lord Parr had told me – that despite their failure to destroy the Queen and those around her, the conservative faction were not downcast, were rather comporting themselves as though they had something else up their sleeves. If this was their trump card, the stakes could not be higher.

‘When did the news about Bertano come?’ I asked.

‘Just after I told our group about overhearing the Queen’s argument with Cranmer over the
Lamentation
. And we all agreed: if the King decides to go back to Rome, it surely follows that the Queen must be replaced. The Pope would insist on it. But if the
Lamentation
were published, the populace would see the King had executed a good and true woman.’

I got up and walked to the window. I was horrified. If what Leeman said about Bertano was true, the Queen was in deadly danger from another source, too, and was a dispensable pawn in a far bigger game. It was hard to take in. But at least it seemed Greening’s group had made a majority decision not to publish the
Lamentation
before the Queen fell, but only to keep it in Greening’s shop. Safe, they supposed.

Barak spoke bluntly to Leeman. ‘Making public that the King was about to receive a secret emissary from the Pope would surely have roused popular anger, perhaps prevented the visit taking place at all.’

‘Ay,’ Nicholas nodded agreement. ‘The outrage among reformers would be tremendous.’

Leeman replied, ‘That is what I said when we discussed Bertano in the group. We argued over it for days.’

I came back to him and sat down again. ‘But Curdy and McKendrick opposed it? I ask, Master Leeman, because I think one of your group might have been a spy in the pay of a third party, I know not who. I am fairly certain, by the way, that we were followed to the docks tonight, and that events there were watched.’

He nodded sadly. ‘That is what we also came to think, after Master Greening was murdered and the
Lamentation
disappeared. That is why we all fled. Vandersteyn had Anne Askew’s writings, ready to take abroad, so at least the killers would not get them. Afterwards, we realized there must have been a spy, for nobody else knew what we were doing.’ He shook his head. ‘But we thought it was Elias, as he was the only one that refused to leave the country.’

‘He had not been told about the
Lamentation
, he was too young for such a secret but he could have . . .’

‘He could have overheard. That is what we thought, afterwards. And he needed money, with his family to support.’ Leeman shook his head. ‘Poor Elias.’

‘If there was a spy, it wasn’t him.’ I thought quickly; that left only Curdy, who was dead, Vandersteyn, who was gone, and McKendrick. And I could not see it being Vandersteyn; he had too long a history as a radical and had been at the very centre of the conspiracy. That left Curdy and McKendrick, who had lived in the same house and had both been against exposing Bertano before his arrival. I asked, ‘What was Curdy’s and McKendrick’s argument against making Bertano’s visit known immediately?’

‘Curdy said we had no clear evidence, and if we set the story abroad it would simply be denied, and the negotiations would take place anyway. McKendrick agreed, he said stronger evidence was needed, perhaps more detail of where the negotiations were to take place, and with whom. He said he knew from experience in Scotland how rumours can fly, only to be quickly quelled if there is no evidence. He suggested Vandersteyn try to get more information from the Continent, and then break the news in detail, when Bertano was actually here. We knew only that he was coming around the start of August. In the end we agreed to wait, and Vandersteyn sent letters to his associates abroad, in code, to try to get more information.’

‘Was there any reply?’

‘No.’ He sighed. ‘Vandersteyn’s agents could discover no more. And then came Master Greening’s murder; we fled, hid in secret in the houses of good friends, keeping separate, moving from place to place while Master Vandersteyn arranged for a ship to come over and take us to Flanders. We knew we were being hunted. One of the households which sheltered Master McKendrick was attacked by ruffians just after he left.’ He looked at me. ‘None of that was arranged by you or your confederates?’

‘No.’

‘How did you know we would be at the docks tonight?’

‘It was not difficult to work out that you would try to get yourselves, and perhaps both books, abroad. Spies were placed at the docks. You were too confident, going through the customs house. You should have smuggled yourselves on board the ship.’

Leeman bit his lip.

‘Let’s get this clear,’ Barak said. ‘Your little group were Anabaptists, who want to overthrow not just the whole of established religion, but society itself—’

‘As we one day will! It is clear in the Bible—’

Barak cut in. ‘A group which was put together by the Dutchman Vandersteyn, who is part of a similar circle on the Continent, and whose particular goal was to obtain information that could incite the people to rebellion.’

‘Ay. The people are deceived by the lies of popes and princes. But believers such as ourselves are the leaven in the yeast.’ Leeman spoke as though chanting a prayer.

‘But,’ I said, angry now, ‘because you did not realize there was a spy in your group, someone – almost certainly working for a leading figure on the conservative side – has the Queen’s book in their possession, ready to give to the King at any moment, with the intention of making him angry with the Queen again just as this papal emissary arrives!’ Leeman lowered his head. I went on, ‘You needed money for bribes and materials in order to steal and publish the Queen’s book. Substantial sums. Where did you get them?’

‘Master Curdy has money. From his business.’ A spark appeared in Leeman’s eyes again. ‘You see, Master Shardlake, we practise what we preach, the holding of all goods in common.’

I sighed, and turned to Barak and Nicholas. ‘Both of you, a word in private. Nicholas, can you bring the candle?’ I turned to Leeman. ‘Do not even think of running, we will be near. Lie here and think on what you have brought about with your foolishness.’

We went out, leaving him in darkness.

Chapter Thirty-five

W
E WALKED DOWNSTAIRS TO
the dusty little entrance hall. I set the candle in its holder on the wall. Noises from the street came to us faintly. I had lost track of time – it must be far past midnight. I wondered when Lord Parr’s people would arrive.

‘Well,’ I asked Barak, ‘what do you think? The Bertano story first.’

Barak stroked his beard. ‘
If
it’s true, and the news got out, then Leeman is right, there would be unrest in the streets. I don’t mean a revolution, but trouble certainly. You have to hand it to them, their tactic of placing spies in sensitive places paid off. But – ’ he looked intently between us – ‘if you’re going to have a tightly controlled group, with secret knowledge, you have to be sure everyone in it can be completely trusted. But with some of the wilder radicals – ’ he shrugged – ‘duping them is easy. Provided the person concerned continually parrots the right phrases, I imagine they’re all too ready to believe they’re genuine.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘But you said,
if
it’s true about Bertano.’

Barak grunted. ‘Remember I’ve been out of politics for six years. But don’t forget that after Anne Boleyn was killed, there was no longer any impediment to the King’s going back to Rome. But he didn’t.’ He gave a cynical laugh. ‘He enjoys his power as Head of the Church too much, to say nothing of the money he got from the monasteries. But there’s something else.’ He furrowed his brows, making shadows on his face in the dim candlelight. ‘I know Lord Cromwell thought the key to understanding the King was to remember that he truly believes God has appointed him to be Head of the Church in England. That is why every time he changes his mind on the matter of doctrine, the country has to follow – or else.’ He shook his head firmly. ‘He wouldn’t hand all that power back to the Pope easily – not when he believes God himself has chosen him to exercise it.’

‘And when Henry dies?’ Nicholas asked quietly.

I thought of the shambling wreck I had seen in Whitehall Palace, the groaning figure winched upstairs. ‘The Supreme Headship must pass to his son.’

Barak agreed. ‘Nothing would ever shake Henry on his right – his duty, as he would see it – to bequeath the Supreme Headship to Prince Edward.’

Nicholas asked, ‘But how can a little boy, below the age of judgement, decide the correct path in religion?’

I answered, ‘They’ll have a Regent, or a Regency Council, until Edward comes of age. Probably the King will decide in his Will who will rule.’ And, I thought, it will not be the Parrs, if the Queen has fallen. ‘The council will exercise judgement on matters of religion on Edward’s behalf, I suppose, till he reaches his eighteenth year. It’s theological nonsense, of course, but that’s what they’ll do. No, Barak is right, if this Bertano is truly coming over, he won’t return with a sworn allegiance from Henry in his pocket.’ I considered. ‘But I have heard all sorts of things are happening in Europe. It is said the Pope is attempting a dialogue with some of the Protestants through his new Council of Trent. I wonder if Henry thinks some sort of compromise is on the cards.’

‘What sort of compromise?’ Barak asked impatiently. ‘Either the headship of the Church lies with the King or with the Pope. There’s no halfway house in between. If there was, someone would have proposed it years ago.’

Nicholas shook his head. ‘But perhaps the King thinks there
may
be some way to compromise, short of accepting papal allegiance. Perhaps Bertano has been sent to explore that? After all, the King has been keen this year to try and make peace everywhere . . .’

Yes, I thought, because he knows he is dying. I nodded. ‘You could be right, Nicholas. A good point.’

‘It’ll never happen,’ Barak said scoffingly.

‘But who was the spy in their group?’ I asked. ‘And who was he reporting to?’

‘It certainly wasn’t Leeman,’ Barak said. ‘He’s a true believer if ever there was one. Nor Myldmore; he knew nothing of Bertano or the Queen’s book. Greening and Elias were murdered. Vandersteyn – I doubt it, he’s crossed the Channel in triumph with Anne Askew’s manuscript. That leaves Curdy, who’s beyond questioning, and the Scotchman McKendrick, who’s still out there somewhere.’

‘And McKendrick was Curdy’s lodger.’ Nicholas knitted his brows. ‘It has to be one of them, or perhaps both.’

‘If it’s McKendrick,’ Barak said, ‘he’ll be running to his master at court by now. Whoever that is.’

‘Someone who’s working with the conservative faction,’ I said. ‘But who? Secretary Paget runs the official spy network. But each of the courtiers has their own network: the Duke of Norfolk, Rich and Wriothesley who have hitched themselves to Gardiner’s wagon.’

Nicholas asked, ‘You think Rich could have been involved with the theft of the
Lamentation
?’

I sighed. ‘Rich was after Anne Askew’s book, and he didn’t seem to know anything about the
Lamentation
. But you can never trust that snake.’

Barak said, ‘Whoever is holding it may indeed be ready to reveal it to the King when Bertano comes. For maximum impact. That could explain why it hasn’t already been made public.’

I shook my head. ‘I am sure these men would have done it already, to bend the King’s mind further against the reformers and towards making an arrangement with Bertano when he arrives. Use it to turn the wind against the reformers again as soon as possible.’

‘Then where is it?’ Barak asked angrily. ‘Who has it?’

‘God’s death, I don’t know!’ I passed a hand over my brow.

‘Could McKendrick have it?’ Nicholas said thoughtfully. ‘If he was the spy, and was given the book by the thieves, then maybe – if he’s been on the run with the others – he hasn’t had time to hand it over to whoever he’s working for?’

‘But it’s been nearly a month,’ Barak answered.

I said, ‘It’s unlikely. But anything is possible. I’ll have to discuss it all with Lord Parr.’

‘Or . . .’ Nicholas said.

‘What?’

‘What if the spy was playing both ends? What if McKendrick – assuming it is him – was indeed working to some master at court, but kept his own beliefs, and made sure the
Lamentation
did not fall into the wrong hands? Perhaps he had it stolen, but kept it himself?’

‘It’s far-fetched, but it’s possible. Thank you, Nicholas.’ The boy looked pleased.

‘Now, Jack, it is late. Nicholas and I will wait here, but you must get back to Tamasin. Where did you tell her you were going tonight?’

‘Only that I was meeting old friends for a drink.’

‘But the taverns are long closed. She will be worried. And on your way back,’ I added, ‘remember those two killers are still out there, and that we were watched tonight. Be careful. Nicholas, will you stay here with me to guard Leeman until Lord Parr’s people return?’

‘You can trust me.’ He shook his head. ‘Leeman’s nothing but a rogue and a villain.’

I sighed. ‘He was doing what he believed was right.’

‘And that justifies all he has done?’ Nicholas answered hotly. ‘The betrayal, the bribery, this – chaos? The threat brought to the Queen by stealing her book?’

Barak turned to him, his tone indulgent. ‘He gets soft, Nick, it’s his way.’ He looked up to the top of the stairs. ‘But better have God’s true representative bound and gagged in case he starts shouting if the students come back. I’ll help you.’

Nicholas said with a sort of appalled admiration, ‘That Dutchman, Vandersteyn. He already has informers working on the Continent who found the information about Bertano. Meanwhile he is over here, recruiting fanatics who might be able to spy on those in high places in London.’

Barak said, ‘He knew the atmosphere here was seething with plots and religious discontent. Decided to come over and further his revolution in England, no doubt.’