C.J. Sansom - Revelation

'So he's there,' Cranmer said.

'He could have been the pedlar on that timescale,' I said. 'Our encounter with him was at dusk.'

'Yes.'

'Then let us take him,' Sir Thomas said, his voice full of excitement.

'Wait a moment. What else do the locals say about him?' asked the Archbishop.

'He is known as unfriendly, does not mix at all with the local people. He doesn't come into the village, gets supplies sent to him. The house is just about falling down.'

'He has money then?' Harsnet said.

'Some at least.' I thought of the beggars who had come to sell their teeth.

'Did you see the house?' Cranmer asked.

'I went to look at it, from a safe distance. That was easy enough; it's surrounded by trees. It's a manor house, probably impressive once but decayed-looking. All the shutters were closed. It's got an overgrown garden surrounding it, woods all around. And here's an interesting thing,' Seymour paused. 'After his mother died Goddard dismissed the few old retainers she had left. It caused much resentment in the village.'

'So he is quite alone there?' I asked.

'Yes. I left a man to watch the house secretly, and rode back here with my steward.'

'This magistrate,' Harsnet asked. 'Can he be trusted?'

'I believe so. He seems capable enough.'

'You did not tell him I was involved?' Cranmer asked sharply.

'No, my lord. Only that this was a secret matter of state.'

Cranmer nodded. He turned to Harsnet. 'Sir Thomas has suggested we send a group of armed men to ride there now, break into the house.'

'Then let us do it.' The coroner laughed bitterly. 'After all the questions I asked in London and the neighbouring counties, and came up with nothing. If only I had gone that little bit further.'

'You did all you could,' Cranmer said. He turned to Sir Thomas. 'How many men can you provide?'

'A dozen, my lord,' he answered confidently. I could see he was enjoying being the centre of attention. 'Under my steward, Russell. All young men, strong and sporty. That is the type of man I like to have serving me.' He smiled complacently.

'What will they be told?'

'Only that some men of the court are hunting a villain, and we want their help to catch him.'

Cranmer looked round the room. 'I think this is what we must do,' he said. 'End this matter now.'

'After that note,' I said, 'that must be what he is expecting us to do. This is tied in with the killing of the seventh victim.'

'I know,' Cranmer said quietly. 'But what else can we do but go there in force?'

I had no answer. 'I want you to go with Sir Thomas' party, Matthew,' the Archbishop continued. 'It seems that for the killer you are connected to his mission. That is all the clearer after the pedlar's attack.' He looked at me sternly, perhaps expecting argument, but I only said, 'Yes, your grace.'

The Archbishop turned to Seymour. 'Mark this well, Thomas,' he said firmly. 'This is not sport. If it goes wrong and the King finds what we have been doing it will not only be me who suffers. Curb your enthusiasm for adventure. And remember that if Goddard is caught he must never be brought to trial. The matter will be closed, quietly and secretly. Tonight.'

Sir Thomas flushed, but nodded. 'I understand how important this is, my lord,' he said haughtily.

'Good. And thank you for what you have done so far. Now, what is happening at the Charterhouse?'

'My men have got Lockley's body out, but the gates won't open any further. They're jammed somehow. My brother is sending an engineer to look at the problem.'

'And I have been questioning the beggars,' Harsnet said. 'There was one who came there a few weeks ago, he stayed in that chapel they use as a shelter. He was very keen to learn all he could about the Charterhouse and about the tavern, though he never went there.' He looked at me. 'An old man, with a dirty face, thick grey hair and a beard. The other beggars didn't like him, I think they sensed he wasn't what he pretended to be.'

Seymour laughed. 'The man's a genius. The King should take him in his service as a spy.'

'His skills come from the devil,' Harsnet said. 'When did that matter?'

Cranmer turned to Barak, who had been standing quietly by the door. 'I want you to help Sir Thomas organize his men into an armed party,' he said. 'You worked for Lord Cromwell, you have useful experience in such matters.'

'Yes, my lord.' Barak bowed. I wondered if the Archbishop wanted Barak to make sure Sir Thomas organized things properly, and did not tell his men too much. From the hard look Sir Thomas gave him, I guessed he wondered the same.

The Archbishop stood up. 'I pray you can end this horror,' he said. As we turned to leave he looked to me and I saw commiseration on his face. Well, I thought, I set myself on this path the morning I found poor Roger.

WALKING DOWN the corridor I fell into step with Harsnet. 'Will this be the end, Matthew?' he asked quietly. 'I do not know.'

'You are right to be cautious. I feel we are riding into the devil's jaws.'

'We will have many men.'

'I don't trust Seymour. He is an adventurer.'

'He is. But he has shown skill in this. His military experience is showing.'

'Perhaps.' Harsnet was silent for a moment, then said, 'I saw Lady Catherine Parr ride into her house in Charterhouse Square this afternoon, attended by her retainers. She has much land in the north, but stays on in London. It must be because she is still considering the King's proposal.'

'She will not be able to go without the King's leave. In a way she is trapped here.'

'She must marry the King,' he said with sudden passion. 'If reform is to survive at all. And we must stop Goddard,' he added. 'By any means we can.'

We stepped outside. Sir Thomas stood on the wharf by the raft, lights at his back from the smoking torches carried by the three boatmen standing in the boat. 'To my house,' he said. 'To fetch my men and horses.' As he stood with his arms on his hips, master of the scene, in his pose he reminded me of the King. I shuddered.

A LITTLE OVER an hour later, I sat on my horse outside my house. The moonlight shone on the puddles of a deserted Chancery Lane. The horses were nervous at being out at such an unaccustomed hour. I was tired and my injured arm ached.

Sir Thomas Seymour had gone to his house in the Strand to make ready for the journey to Hertfordshire. As Chancery Lane was en route, he had agreed that I should leave a message for Tamasin and Joan that we would not be back until late in the day. I had asked Barak if he wanted to write his own note for Tamasin, but he had shaken his head.

The sound of jangling harnesses approached from the direction of the Strand. A crowd of over a dozen men, all wearing swords, rode quietly up to me. The moon cast a pale light over them. A tall man in his thirties was in the lead, Harsnet and Barak beside him. The men accompanying them were all young, strong4ooking, some with an air of suppressed excitement about them. All were dressed in sober, dark clothes. I realized Sir Thomas was not there. 'Ready?' Harsnet asked. 'Yes.'

He nodded to the tall man. 'This is Edgar Russell, Sir Thomas' steward.'

I nodded at the man, who bowed briefly in the saddle. I was glad to see that he had a serious, authoritative look about him.

Barak looked at the blank windows of my house. 'Everyone asleep?' he asked.

'Ay. I've left a note. I said you were sorry you wouldn't see Tamasin until tomorrow.'

'Thanks.'

'Where is Sir Thomas?'

Barak smiled. 'He's gone to fetch Dean Benson out of his bed and bring him up to Hertfordshire. He'll join us there.'

'Why?'

'So he can identify Goddard for certain, if we find him.' Barak's horse Sukey pawed at the ground. Barak looked at me, full of suppressed excitement. 'Ready?'