Lamentation (The Shardlake Series Book 6) (60 page)

‘And found Leeman, then Myldmore. Men with access to two sets of writings that could cause great stir.’ He shook his head. ‘He must truly think God is working through him.’

Barak snorted. ‘He got lucky. Twice. But not
really
lucky: it sounds as if what Anne Askew wrote would be damaging only to Wriothesley and Rich, and they’re not the top players. And releasing the
Lamentation
would do the radical cause more harm than good. But some in his group were too bone-headed to see that. If they’d found evidence that Gardiner had been in bed with a choirboy, say, that would’ve been real luck.’

I said, ‘Vandersteyn has probably been running schemes like this on the Continent for years. He was skilful in weeding out those among the radicals who might be of use to him.’

‘Not skilful enough to notice he had a spy in his midst,’ Barak said.

I nodded agreement. ‘No.’

L
EEMAN WAS SITTING ON
the side of the bed. He blinked in the light. ‘Are they here for me yet?’ he asked in a quiet voice, with a slight tremor. Being left alone in the darkness had given his fear time to grow.

‘No,’ I answered.

‘What will they do with me?’

‘You will be taken somewhere safe for now. I will tell them you have cooperated fully.’

He looked at me keenly. ‘Do you know, lawyer, I think perhaps you have it in you to see the light.’

‘Do you?’ I replied heavily.

‘Perhaps. Like me, you were brought up on lies and I think you see that. Read the New Testament, read Revelation. These are the last days before Christ’s return. It is foreordained.’

‘The Book of Revelation, is it? You and your people have found the key to that text?’ Anger spilled out of me. ‘You should know, Leeman, I once uncovered a killer who slaughtered several innocent people, who believed himself inspired by Revelation! I wish you could see the trail of blood and torture he left.’

Leeman did not answer. After a moment he asked, ‘Will you tell the Queen’s officials about Bertano?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then at least they will be warned.’

I looked at him. ‘They will undoubtedly want to question you further.’

He swallowed. ‘They will torture me, then kill me. I suppose I must prepare myself.’

‘You broke an oath to the Queen. Nonetheless, I shall plead with her for your sorry life. I am not even sure why.’

‘We’ll keep you with Nick to guard you for now, matey,’ Barak added in a matter-of-fact way. ‘I’m going to bind your hands together, so stretch them out. No trouble, or we’ll do it by force.’

Leeman put out his arms. Barak bound them tight with strips torn from Leeman’s own shirt. ‘Have to gag you as well, matey, though I know you love to gabble on. Nicholas’s fellow lodgers may be back sometime.’

‘Can I go to the jakes first?’ Leeman’s face reddened with embarrassment. ‘My guts trouble me.’

Barak looked at me. ‘Might as well,’ I said. Barak raised his eyebrows. I snapped impatiently, ‘We don’t want a mess in here. Where’s your jakes, Nicholas?’

‘Out the back, in the yard. But watch it’s not a trick. No noise, or I’ll knock you out again.’

‘We’ll all go, bring him back, then Jack will go home, while you and I – ’ I took a deep breath as I looked at Nicholas – ‘will wait with him for Lord Parr’s people.’

W
E WENT BACK DOWNSTAIRS
, Barak and Nicholas holding Leeman between them. He was almost as tall as Nicholas and broader, the build of a royal guard. But he gave no trouble. As we descended, a church clock somewhere struck one. ‘No sign of your friends,’ I said to Nicholas, relieved.

‘They probably won’t be back at all now; they’ll have fallen drunk in a corner.’

‘I remember those student birthday celebrations. A bit rowdy for me.’

‘There’s a surprise,’ Barak said warmly.

We opened a creaking door to the little backyard, where a ramshackle wooden shed stood in a corner of an untended garden, against a stone wall separating the students’ garden from the one next door. By the smell, the cesspit beneath badly needed emptying. Nicholas opened the wooden door, and we all stepped back at the stink from within. Barak said to Leeman, ‘Get in, then.’

He hesitated on the threshold, so powerful was the stench.

That hesitation killed him. There was a thunderous noise from the neighbouring garden, and a brief flash of light. In the second before Leeman crashed to the ground I saw, by the light of the lamp, that he had lost half his head. We stood there, shocked for a few seconds, then Nicholas threw me to the ground, just as there was a second flash and a bang, and the smell of smoke. Glancing aside I saw that Barak had also thrown himself down. He kicked over the lamp he had been holding and it went out, leaving us in almost total darkness. I smelled gunpowder in the air.

‘Quick!’ Barak whispered. ‘Back inside. Before he has time to reload. Nick, you know the way in the dark!’

Nicholas scrambled to his feet and, with his long body bent over, made for the back of the building, which was visible only as a slightly deeper darkness. Barak followed, and then I, biting my lip as a muscle in my back went. There was another bang, another flash, and something hit the wall ahead of us. Then I heard the door creak open, and Nicholas pushed me unceremoniously inside. Barak followed, kicking the door shut behind him. Outside dogs had begun to bark and someone in a neighbouring house, woken by the noise, shouted, ‘Hey! What’s going on?’

Nicholas led us to the front of the house and the shelter of the stairs. We stood in the darkness, breathing hard. I said, ‘What in hell – ?’

‘A gun,’ he answered. ‘An arquebus. I’ve seen them used in hunting. They’re deadly, but take an age to reload. Leeman – ?’

‘Dead,’ Barak answered flatly. ‘It took his head off. So we were followed here, by someone who brought an arquebus. Clever idea to post the assassin in next door’s garden; we were bound to come out to the jakes sooner or later. Great way of killing a person from a distance. There may be more of them out the front.’ He walked cautiously to the front door and peered through the keyhole. ‘Can’t see anyone. I’d guess it was Leeman they were after. To stop him talking to us.’

‘At least they failed there,’ Nicholas said defiantly.

‘Come on, back upstairs. Thank God we kept the window of your room shuttered.’

We returned to Nicholas’s room. ‘Sir,’ he said urgently, ‘it would be dangerous for Jack to go out now. There may be more of them waiting in the streets.’

Barak shook his head. ‘I should think they’ve run, now we’re safe indoors. But you’re right. We should all wait here till Lord Parr’s men come from Whitehall.’

‘But why didn’t they follow us in when we first arrived?’ Nicholas asked me.

‘Perhaps because they thought the house might be full of students, and they’d have a fight on their hands.’

‘Tamasin will be in a state,’ Barak said. ‘but it can’t be helped – ’ He broke off, staring at my neck. I put my hand to it. My fingers came away covered in sticky red-and-grey slime. At first I thought I had been hit, then I realized what it was: I was looking at Leeman’s brains.

Chapter Thirty-six

I
WALKED WITH
L
ORD
P
ARR
through the Great Garden of Whitehall Palace. It was the next morning, the sun high in a cloudless sky. The brightness of the white gravel on the paths hurt my tired eyes, and I turned to look over the broad squares of lawn, the flowerbeds at their centre, each ablaze with its own variety of summer bloom. Gardeners in smocks laboured endlessly, weeding and trimming. Heraldic beasts stood on poles at the corners of each path, and the water in the great fountain at the centre of the garden made a relaxing plashing sound. Men, and a few women, strolled along the paths in their finery. The Great Garden was where courtiers and senior servants came to walk, but it was also a sort of enormous outdoor waiting room for would-be courtiers who were not, or not yet, allowed access to the King’s Privy Gallery. Here they strolled, and waited, and hoped it did not rain. To the south, work continued on the new quarters for the Lady Mary, the constant banging and hammering a strange counterpoint to the sound of the fountain. On the north side the garden was bounded by the King’s Privy Gallery and private lodgings; I glanced up at them nervously.

‘He could be watching us,’ I said uneasily.

Lord Parr smiled reassuringly. ‘I doubt the King even knows of your presence on the Queen’s Learned Council, nor your hunt for this elusive jewel. And I have made sure that within the Queen’s Court it is known only as a minor matter.’ He, too, glanced towards the three-storey Privy Gallery, the black-and-white chequerwork facade easily a hundred yards long. It ended at the Holbein Gate, which was twice as high as the gallery itself and spanned the public road, connecting the King’s quarters with the recreational wing of the palace on the western side. In earlier years the King would have crossed through the gate to play tennis, or joust, but that was long over now. ‘Besides,’ Lord Parr added, ‘I heard his majesty was working in his study in the Holbein Gate this morning. He likes looking down on his subjects passing along the street as he works.’

‘I did not know he did that.’ That, too, gave me an uneasy feeling.

‘As for the real issues, while we may be seen here, we have the advantage that we cannot be heard.’

He stopped at a corner under a pillar painted in stripes of Tudor green and white. A golden lion on top held an English flag, fluttering in the river breeze that also played with Lord Parr’s white beard. He leaned heavily on his stick. In the morning light his thin face was pale, dark bags visible under the eyes. He had been wakened by Cecil, who had arrived at the palace near midnight. Since my own arrival with Leeman’s body, at three o’clock, he had been busy. After I had told him all that had happened he arranged a room for me in the lodgings again to snatch a few hours’ sleep, though hard thoughts kept me awake. Four more men killed last night, including one of Lord Parr’s own servants, and a new threat to the Queen divulged, if the story about Bertano were true. At nine in the morning Lord Parr had sent for me and suggested a walk in the Great Garden.

He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of the herbs planted alongside the path. ‘I could lie down and fall asleep here right now,’ he said quietly. ‘As could you, from your looks.’

I winced at a spasm in my back. I had pulled a muscle when Nicholas pushed me to the ground last night, but his act had saved my life. Lord Parr continued, ‘It is a great pity Leeman was killed.’ He raised a hand. ‘No, sir, I do not blame you. But I would have liked to question the villain myself.’ He clutched the silver handle of his stick hard. ‘An Anabaptist, those pestilent scum.’

‘They were a small group. In Europe too, I understand, there are but few left.’

‘They are like rats, a few in the sewers of the common streets may breed and at a time of hardship or discontent become thousands. They can bring fire and death to us all.’ He waved his free hand in a gesture of anger. ‘They should be extirpated.’

‘Have you told her majesty what Leeman said?’ I asked.

‘Yes. I wakened the Queen early to tell her the latest news. I thought it best. She wept and trembled, she is much afraid. She is worried that the book remains unfound, and now even more about Bertano. But – ’ he paused to look me in the eye – ‘she is brave, and well-practised in assuming a composed and regal manner, whatever she feels inside.’

He fell silent as a couple of black-robed officials wearing the King’s badge passed. They bowed to us. I had sent for my robe after arriving at Whitehall; Timothy had brought it round and I wore it now. Such things mattered greatly here. The two walked on, stopping briefly to admire a peacock with its huge multicoloured tail as it crossed the lawn. ‘I have one servant less,’ Lord Parr continued soberly. ‘Poor Dunmore, who died last night, was a good and useful man.’

‘I never even learned his name.’

‘Who
is
it?’ Lord Parr banged the white gravel with his stick. ‘Who masterminded the theft of her book, employed those two men of whom we can find no trace – to kill everyone in that Anabaptist group? I do not believe the theory that whoever took the book from Greening would intend to wait until Bertano was about to arrive before revealing it. Not if they know the King. They would show it to him immediately, let his anger against the Queen and the reformers burst out at once, make him more receptive to whatever proposals this wretched emissary of the Pope brings.’