C. Sansom - Lamentation

Bishop Gardiner leaned across the table, pointing a stubby finger at me. ‘Master Shardlake uses words similar to those his former master Cromwell employed when he was arrested at this very table. I remember.’ He gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘Parliament found differently. And so may the City of London court, if we decide to send them there!’

Paget glanced at Gardiner, raising a hand. The Bishop sat back, scowling, and Paget said, more mildly, ‘We have a couple of questions which apply only to you, Master Shardlake.’

He nodded to Wriothesley, who leaned forward, his little red beard jutting forward aggressively. ‘I understand you were recently sworn to the Queen’s Learned Council.’

‘Yes, Lord Chancellor. Temporarily.’

‘Why?’

I took a deep breath. ‘To investigate the theft of a most precious ring from the Queen’s chambers. Bequeathed to her majesty by her late stepdaughter, Margaret Neville.’ I was horribly aware that I was lying through my teeth. But to do otherwise meant revealing what I had actually been looking for and causing grave danger to others. I glanced at Lord Hertford and William Parr. Neither returned my look. I swallowed and my heart quickened. I had feared the floor might seem to tremble and shake beneath me but it had not, yet.

‘A rare and precious object,’ Wriothesley said, a note of mockery in his voice. ‘But you have not found it?’

‘No, my lord. And so I have resigned my position.’

Wriothesley nodded, the little red beard bobbing up and down. ‘I understand there have been several sudden vacancies in the Queen’s household. Two senior guards, a carpenter, Master Cecil who now serves the Earl of Hertford. Most mysterious.’ He shrugged. I wondered whether he was fishing or had just noted these changes and wondered if they were more than coincidence.

Then Richard Rich spoke, looking not at me but down at his clasped hands. ‘Lord Chancellor, these domestic matters are not part of the accusations. Master Shardlake has advised the Queen on legal matters for several years.’ Rich turned to look at Wriothesley. I realized with relief that his own involvement in my investigations meant it was in his interests to help me. Wriothesley looked puzzled by his intervention.

Gardiner knitted his thick black brows further, glowering at Rich. ‘If this man — ’ he waved at me — ‘and his confederates are under a charge of heresy, any links to her majesty must surely concern this council.’

Lord Hertford spoke up suddenly, sharply. ‘Should we not first find whether they are guilty of anything? Before turning to subjects the King wishes closed.’ He emphasized his words by leaning over and returning Gardiner’s fierce stare.

The Bishop looked set to argue, but Paget raised a hand. ‘Lord Hertford is right. In the discussions over whether this matter should be included in today’s agenda, we agreed only to ask these men whether they had breached the Act. The evidence before us relates solely to that question.’

‘Flimsy as it is,’ William Parr said. ‘I do not understand why this case has been brought before us at all.’

I looked between them. Someone had wanted the charge of heresy against us to be put on the council agenda. But who? And why? To frighten me, assess me, to see me condemned? To try and get at the Queen through me? Which of them was accusing me of heresy? Gardiner was the most obvious candidate, but I knew how complicated the web of enmities and alliances around this table had become. I glanced quickly at my companions. Philip remained composed, though pale. Edward sat upright and attentive now, some colour back in his cheeks. Mention of the Queen had probably brought back to him what I had told him in the Tower, that this interrogation might concern the religious factions on the council. In this regard at least, whatever his dreadful turmoil of mind, Edward would try to serve the radical cause.

‘Then let us get straight to the point,’ Gardiner said reluctantly. ‘First, have any of you possessed books forbidden under the King’s proclamation? Philip Coleswyn?’

Philip returned his gaze. ‘Yes, my Lord, but all were handed in under the terms of his majesty’s gracious amnesty.’

‘You, Edward Cotterstoke?’

He answered quietly, ‘The same.’

Gardiner turned to me. ‘But you, Master Shardlake, I believe you did not hand in any books.’ So I had been right: they kept a list.

I said evenly, ‘I had none. A search was made of my house when I was arrested yesterday morning, and nothing can have been found, because I had nothing.’

Gardiner gave a nasty little half-smile, and I wondered for a dreadful moment whether a forbidden book had been planted in the house; such things were not unknown. But he said only, ‘Did you ever possess books forbidden under the Proclamation?’

‘Yes, my Lord Bishop. I destroyed them before the amnesty expired.’

‘So,’ Gardiner said triumphantly, ‘he admits he had heretical books that were not handed in. I know, Master Shardlake, that you were seen burning books in your garden.’

I stared at him. That was a shock. Only Timothy had been at the house that day, and he had been in the stables. Moreover he would never have reported it. I remembered his frantic anger when they had come to arrest me the day before. I answered quietly, ‘I preferred to destroy them. The proclamation declared only that it was illegal to keep books from the list after the amnesty expired. And I have had none since before that date.’

Wriothesley looked at me. ‘Burning books rather than handing them in surely indicates reluctance to draw your opinions to the attention of the authorities.’

‘That is pure supposition. It was never said that a list would be kept.’

Paget gave a tight smile; he was a lawyer too, and appreciated this point, though Gardiner said scoffingly, ‘Lawyer’s quibble,’ and glowered at me. I wondered, why this ferocious aggression? Did it betray his desperation to find a heretic linked to the Queen?

Lord Hertford leaned forward again. ‘No, my Lord, it is not a quibble. It is the law.’

William Parr nodded agreement vigorously. ‘The law.’

I looked along the row: enemies to the left of Paget; friends, I hoped, to the right. Paget himself remained inscrutable as he said, ‘Master Shardlake has the right of it, I think. It is time we turned to the main matter.’ He reached into his pile and pulled out some more papers, handing three sheets to each of us in turn across the table, his hard unblinking eyes briefly meeting mine. ‘Members of the council have copies of these letters. They concern a complaint by a former client of Master Shardlake, Mistress Isabel Slanning, sister of Master Cotterstoke here. We have called her as a witness today.’ He turned to one of the guards. ‘Bring her in.’

One of the guards left. Edward’s face twisted briefly; a horrible, tortured look. Gardiner, taking it for guilt, exchanged a wolfish smile with Wriothesley.

I looked at the papers. Copies of three letters. Isabel’s original complaint to Rowland, accusing me of conspiring with Edward and Philip to defeat her case. A reply from Rowland, short and sharp as I had expected, saying there was no evidence whatever of collusion, and pointing out that unsupported accusations of heresy were seriously defamatory.

It was the third letter, Isabel’s reply, that was dangerous. It was dated a week before and was, by her standards, short.

Master Treasurer,

I have received your letter saying that my allegations of collusion between Master Shardlake, Master Coleswyn, and my brother, to defeat my just claims, are unsubstantiated. On the contrary, they are just, and the heresy of these men clear and patent. Master Shardlake, taking farewell of Master Coleswyn after going to his house for dinner, said in my hearing that the way to salvation is through prayer and the Bible, not the Mass. I am sending a copy of this letter to his majesty’s Privy Council, so the heresy of these men may be investigated.