C.J. Sansom - Revelation

'Which encourages the view that this has been done by the papists to scotch the King's marriage,' Harsnet said. 'Jesu, they are capable of anything. They would devour poor Protestants as beasts eat grass.'

'And you, Master Shardlake,' Hertford asked quietly. 'What are your religious views; They say you are a Laodicean, a man of little faith.'

'Matthew would not harm our cause,' Cranmer interposed. 'So long as he thought our methods just, eh;' That sad smile of his again. 'That will not be a problem here.'

'Who is he to tell us what is just?' Thomas Seymour scoffed. 'A crookback lawyer.'

His brother turned on him with sudden anger. 'God's wounds, Thomas, I will have you kept out of this if you say another word! I'll warrant this man will be far more help than you!'

Thomas Seymour looked chastened at the fresh reminder of where the power lay. Cranmer turned to me. 'Matthew, I apologize again for Sir Thomas.'

'It does not matter, my lord.' Though it did. Why was this foolish boor involved? 'If I may,' I went on, 'I would like to talk to the labourer who found the first body, and visit the scene. These correspondences with Roger's death are so close, they may help us.'

Cranmer looked at Harsnet. 'Where is the man now, Gregory?'

'I had him locked up for a few days to impress the need for silence on him. He's back home now, I'll have him sent for.'

'Thank you, coroner.'

'I want you and Gregory to work together on this,' Cranmer said.

'Might I bring in my man Barak? He could be of much use.'

Cranmer smiled. 'Ah, yes, him. Yes, I know Lord Cromwell trusted him. But no one else. And not that ex-monk doctor. He cannot help us over Dr Gurney; he has been buried for weeks.'

'I understand.'

'You will keep me closely informed. Contact me here and only through my secretary, Ralph Morice. I trust no one else.'

'Yes, my lord.'

Cranmer stood up. Harsnet and I followed, bowing low.

'Gregory, Matthew,' Cranmer said, 'I pray to Our Saviour you may be able to resolve this.'

'Amen, my lord,' Harsnet answered feelingly.

'I believe you have put Adam Kite's case into the Court of Requests?' Cranmer asked me suddenly.

'Yes, my lord. I have applied to have his fees remitted, and to make sure he is cared for. And I am having a physician examine the question of his sanity.'

'I will see the Privy Council does not stand in your way,' he said. 'So far as Kite's fees and his care are concerned, it was mentioned yesterday, and your name was a provocation to Sir Richard Rich. Who is the doctor you have instructed — Dr Malton;'

'Yes, my lord.'

Cranmer nodded, considering, then looked at me again seriously. 'Neither Lord Hertford nor I would want the boy released, unless he was cured to the extent that it was certain there would be no more crazed public demonstrations. He must be kept secure.'

'In times of trial, Christians must show the wisdom of serpents as well as the innocence of doves,' Hertford said. He looked sad for a moment.

'I understand, my lord.'

Cranmer smiled. 'Good. Make sure that old ex-monk does not turn him papist.' I looked at him. So he knew about Guy's past, he had probably had enquiries made about him. Lord Hertford, over- hearing, looked at me curiously as he stepped past me. He bowed and swept away, leaving me alone with Harsnet in the corridor. We walked away together. Harsnet seemed a little uneasy with me. He seemed to ponder a moment, then said, 'I am sorry for the way I had to conduct the inquest. I hope you understand now why that was necessary.'

'I understand why you did it, sir,' I answered neutrally. I looked at him, wondering what he would be like to work with. A clever man, but a religious radical, I guessed. When the King had defied the Pope to marry Anne Boleyn ten years before, he had allowed Thomas Cromwell to install in the Royal household men who were far more radical reformers than he was — even Lutherans. Since Cromwell's fall, the King was steadily moving back towards the old religious practices, and most reformers bent to the wind, at least in public. But some radicals remained, clinging on to their posts through ability and cunning.

'I fear for the Lady Catherine Parr,' he said. 'I have met her, a good, sweet lady. I hope the killer did not get to the doctor through someone in her household.'

'That is not how he got to Roger.'

'No. But then what is the connection?' He looked me seriously. 'We must find it, Serjeant Shardlake. I agree it would be useful for you to talk to the man who found Dr Gurney. I will arrange that, send the message to your house. And you will prepare a list of everyone that Master Elliard knew — clients, friends, possible enemies.'

'Yes I will speak to his clerk.' I took a deep breath. 'And his widow.' I looked at him. 'What of the body? May it be released for the funeral?'

'Of course.' Harsnet looked uncomfortable again. 'Thank you.'

Somewhere a clock struck one. I had an appointment with the Kites that afternoon at Lincoln's Inn, and I had to see Dorothy.

We passed into Lambeth Palace yard, where the sweet smell of wet grass met us, unfamiliar after those weeks of snow. I turned to Harsnet. 'I do not understand Sir Thomas Seymour's involvement. He seems—'

'Unreliable? A foolish braggart?' The coroner smiled wryly. 'He is all that and more. A man of proud conceit, born to mischief. An elbow-hanger on his brother. But we are stuck with him.'

'Why?'

'Thomas Seymour wished to marry Catherine Parr. And she was in love with him. Heaven knows why, though even sensible women may have their heads turned. He has had to step aside for the King. But he has made his brother involve him in this. To protect her interests, he says. If Lord Hertford has one weakness, it is devotion to Thomas. But Thomas is something even worse than a papist.'

'What?'

I saw disgust in Harsnet's look. 'An atheist,' he said. 'A man who denies God.'

HARSNET LEFT ME at the river, where I caught a wherry back to Temple Stairs and walked up to Lincoln's Inn. The fierce anger I felt after the inquest had been replaced by sober fear; as I thought of the mighty men in that room my stomach twisted and knotted with anxiety. Yet I told myself that at least this time there was no ambiguity, we were all clearly on the same side in wanting this killer caught.

It was a relief to find Barak in chambers, working at his desk beside young Skelly. I inclined my head to Barak that he should follow me to my room. Skelly looked at us through the glasses he wore for his weak sight, his expression sad. I guessed he felt excluded, left out of the events whirling round Lincoln's Inn. Well, he was safer out of it all.

I told Barak all that had transpired at Lambeth Palace. I had expected him to show pleasure at the prospect of some excitement, but he heard me in silence and then sat frowning. 'That Thomas Seymour's a dangerous character,' he said. 'Lord Cromwell distrusted him and blocked his advancement, though he respected his brother.'

'His romantic interest in Catherine Parr complicates matters.'

'He's known as an indiscreet woman-chaser. Sounds like an indiscreet man is the last thing this business needs, if Cranmer's keeping this from the King.'

'I know. But I am bound to assist them, I promised Dorothy.' I looked at him. 'But you do not need to be involved if you do not wish,' I said. 'There is no reason for you to place yourself in danger.'

'No,' he said. 'I'll help.' But he still looked uneasy. 'Though I don't understand any of it. One man killed as your friend is strange enough, but two?

'Could the killer be mad? Someone who conceived a wild hatred for Roger and that doctor, perhaps developed a belief they had wronged him?'

'A mad person couldn't have organized and carried through something like these murders.'