C. Sansom - Lamentation

Tower Hill rose ahead of me, where Lord Cromwell and so many others had died; and beyond, the Tower of London: the moat, the high white walls and there, the huge square bulk of the White Tower, where the conspiracy between Rich and Bealknap five years before had resulted in my briefly being held prisoner in its terrible dungeons.

I saw Lord Parr was already waiting outside the Middle Tower gate, on horseback. To my surprise young William Cecil sat on another horse beside him, two servants in Queen’s livery holding the reins. Cecil was dressed in his lawyer’s robe, and Lord Parr wore a light doublet, green and slashed at the shoulder to show the crimson silk lining. He sniffed at a pomander that hung by a gold chain from his neck, to ward off the stink from the moat.

‘Matthew!’ It was the first time he had greeted me by my Christian name, his tone much more civil than when we had last met. ‘I brought Master Cecil with me, so that we might exchange news.’

‘My Lord, I am sorry I am late, but I have just had an encounter with the men who killed Greening — ’

He leaned forward in his saddle. ‘Are they caught?’ he asked eagerly.

‘No, but Barak and my pupil were injured in the attempt. I had to get them medical attention.’

‘Tell me what happened.’

I glanced at Cecil. ‘William knows all,’ Lord Parr said. ‘Including about the Lamentation . The Queen and I agree he can be trusted, and he has already organized enquiries among the radicals, and agents at the docks.’

I looked at Cecil. Trusted indeed, I thought. I told them about our encounter with Daniels and Cardmaker, that the two seemed to know my name and had, I was sure, mentioned the name Bertano. I also told them Nicholas had identified the torn sleeve as belonging to one Charles Stice, who, from the description of his damaged ear, had been involved in the first attack on Greening, and the attempt to suborn the young page Garet.

Cecil said, ‘I have made less progress, I fear. No sign of Greening’s three vanished friends, nor the guard Leeman. And though all four have friends among the religious radicals, none are part of any known group. I think Greening and the rest set up their own little circle.’

‘I think that may be right,’ I agreed.

Lord Parr grunted. ‘God knows there are enough of those springing up, even under Gardiner’s nose. Maybe even Anabaptists. We know that one of the men is Dutch, and it is from there and from Germany that those wretched people come.’

‘What about Bertano?’ I asked Lord Parr.

‘The name is not known in the Italian merchant community. They all have to be registered, and this name is not on the list.’

‘He could have slipped into the country,’ Cecil observed.

‘Possibly.’ Lord Parr shook his head. ‘Or he may not be in England at all.’ He looked across at the Tower. ‘Well, Matthew, we must go in. They will take the horses at the gate. We are late enough already.’ He turned to Cecil. ‘There, William: Shardlake has another three names for you to investigate. Daniels, Cardmaker, Stice.’ He inclined his head. ‘But quietly.’

The young lawyer nodded gravely, then rode away. Lord Parr stroked his beard. ‘There’s a clever fellow,’ he said quietly. ‘And discreet.’

‘You have told him everything?’

‘Yes, the Queen approved it after meeting him. She took to him very much.’ I felt an absurd pang of jealousy. Lord Parr watched Cecil’s retreating figure. ‘He is ambitious. If we succeed in this, it may be a stepping stone for him. Of course, there is religious principle involved for him as well. If we do not succeed, however,’ he added bleakly, ‘and the book is published for the King to see, all of us may be in dire straits.’

The guard at the Tower gate saluted Lord Parr. His horse was taken to the stable, and we walked across Tower Green.

‘No word of the Lamentation , then?’ I asked.

‘No. More than two weeks now since it was taken. I tell the Queen that each passing day makes it less likely it will appear on the streets, but she does not believe it.’ He gave a quick bark of laughter. ‘Nor, in truth, do I. These men you encountered,’ he continued. ‘One said you did not know who you were dealing with. Implying it was somebody senior. And you said earlier you thought Sir Richard Rich might be involved?’

‘Possibly.’

‘There are so many possibilities: Norfolk, Gardiner, Paget, acting alone or in concert; perhaps someone else — ’ He shook his head. ‘But no, not Paget; he always works strictly to the King’s orders.’

‘Are you sure, My Lord? Wolsey and Cromwell did so at first, but later. .’

He pursed his lips. ‘You are right. We cannot be entirely sure of anything in these whirling days.’

‘It still concerns me, my Lord, that when Jane Fool arrived to be questioned, the Lady Mary appeared with her.’

‘That was just unfortunate.’

‘I wondered whether it might be something more. Is Jane truly a woman of little wit, or could she be acting, concealing her true intelligence?’

Lord Parr shook his head. ‘She is a mere idiot, of that I am sure. I cannot see her deceiving her mistress about that; you know how shrewd the Queen is. In any event she did not let Jane anywhere near that manuscript.’

‘The Lady Elizabeth seemed not to like Jane Fool.’

He snorted. ‘The Lady Elizabeth does not like a lot of people. Particularly anyone who upstages her with the Queen.’

We were approaching the White Tower. Lord Parr had slowed down, and I noticed a faint sheen of perspiration on his forehead. I remembered his age, his remarks about his health. He looked at me, then said uncomfortably, ‘I am sorry I was short with you when we last met. This business is a great strain.’

‘I understand, my Lord. Thank you.’ I realized it could not come easily to one of Lord Parr’s rank and temperament to apologize to an underling.

He nodded brusquely, then looked towards the Tower. ‘As I told you, Sir Edmund Walsingham used to be the Queen’s Vice-Chancellor, and he is an old friend.’ I thought, among the high ones of the realm everyone knows everyone, and they are either a friend or an enemy. ‘I am going to tell him you have acted for my wife’s family, and have a case coming up involving a witness who claims he was being questioned in the Tower sometime between — let us pick a broad range of dates — June the twentieth and July the fifth. We will say that you do not believe this man was in the Tower at all, that in fact he was up to mischief elsewhere.’

‘I understand,’ I said, uncomfortable at the thought of lying so blatantly to the Constable of the Tower.

‘We will say that you wish to check the names of men imprisoned there between those dates,’ Lord Parr continued. ‘There have been plenty in and out these last few months and if I vouch for you I think Sir Edmund will let you see the records. Could you do that? Then try to find out who was on guard duty when Anne Askew was tortured. That was around June the thirtieth. The news of her torture was leaked the same day.’

‘Very well.’ The eviction which Coleswyn and I had witnessed that morning suddenly came back to mind. ‘I could say the man concerned is trying to give himself an alibi for being part of a group of men who evicted a tenant without due process.’

‘A landlord? Yes, you work at the Court of Requests, don’t you?’ he added, a little superciliously. ‘Very well. But on no account mention Anne Askew. I do not wish to draw his mind to that.’

There was a sudden loud roar from the Tower menagerie, probably a lion. Lord Parr smiled. ‘I hear they have a new creature there from Africa, an animal something like a horse but with an absurdly long and thin neck. I may ask Sir Edmund to let me see it.’