C.J. Sansom - Revelation

'That old woman we saw in the parlour, Cissy, Ellen seems to treat her in that way, trying to bring her from her inner world into the everyday one, giving her simple sewing tasks to do.'

'Yes, that may help with melancholies. Forcing the mind away from dark thoughts, into the everyday.'

'I wonder,' I said, 'whether Roger's killer may be suffering some form of madness. To kill someone so brutally, apparently pointlessly.' Twice, I thought, but did not say, for I knew it could be dangerous for us both if I breached Cranmer's injunction not to tell Guy about Dr Gurney.

'It is possible,' Guy said. 'Unless Master Elliard gave someone cause to take such a terrible revenge, which having met him, I doubt.'

'That is impossible.' There was something I could ask him about, I realized. I took a draught of wine.

'Guy, you said some of the monastic infirmarians used dwale. Do you know of any infirmarians in London who might have?'

'I did not know them, Matthew. Remember I came to London from Sussex when my old monastery was dissolved.' He looked me. 'You are thinking of those monks who were driven out of their wits when they were thrown out of the monasteries;'

'Yes,' I admitted.

'Then I should tell you that the use of dwale was mainly restricted to the Benedictines. And the only Benedictine foundation that had an infirmary in London was Westminster Abbey. But as I said before, its use is not a secret.'

'Its expert use:'

'There may be many healers who still use it.' I could see that Guy found the whole idea of Roger's killer being an ex-monk distasteful as well as improbable.

'Its basis is opium, is it not: Poppies would need to be grown and cultivated. Whoever it is would need to have a garden.'

'True. Though many grow poppies in their gardens for their bright colour. And I myself grow them in my herb garden to make opium.'

I wished I could tell him this was not just a matter of finding someone with the motive to kill Roger. Again, I hoped fervently that Barak and Harsnet had caught him already.

'How is Mistress Elliard:' Guy asked.

'Bereft.'

'You are fond of her.'

'She has always been my friend.'

'A woman of courage, I think.'

'Yes, she is.' I thought, with frustration, I cannot tell Dorothy the full story either. I drained my wine.

'I have to go,' I said. 'Thank you, Guy, for seeing Adam. I will arrange for you to see him again, and meet his parents. Will you come to the court hearing next week, give evidence as to his state of mind, asking that he be kept in the Bedlam for now?'

'Yes, I will. May I bring Piers?' I gave him a look of surprise. 'I want the boy to see all aspects of the physician's work. I know he is only an apprentice apothecary, but he has a very good mind. I am thinking of sponsoring him to study as a physician.'

'Could you afford that?'

'It would not be easy. But my earnings are growing since I have been accepted as a physician myself, and I still have my pension as an ex-monk. And poor people with ability deserve to find sponsors, to find patrons, do they not?' His look was challenging.

I was taken aback. That would be a huge investment for Guy. I met his look, realizing to my shame that I was jealous. For a long time I had been Guy's only friend.

I HURRIED HOME through the busy streets, for it would soon be curfew-time. Barak was waiting for me in chambers. He was towelling his hair, which like his clothes was soaking wet. Skelly had gone home.

'No luck?' I asked.

'We waited till it got dark, then came away. That bastard was crouching in those reeds all day, he's got away now.' He frowned. 'How did you know?'

'Just a feeling.'

'Harsnet's furious with himself, said he should have left us two there to watch and roused some of the Westminster constables to flush him out. He hadn't believed anyone could have sat it out in those cold marshes all day.' He raised his eyebrows. 'He said it was as though the man was spirited away by a devil.'

'That's all we need.'

'He's right that it would take something to lie out there all day without making a noise. I couldn't do it.'

'We know how determined this creature is,' I said. 'But how did he know we would be there to look at where Dr Gurney was found; That is what worries me.'

'And me,' Barak said with feeling.

We sat silent for a minute, then Barak asked, 'How was Adam Kite;'

'Mad. I hope Guy can help him, but I don't know.'

'Well, I've some news at least. I sent word to Gib Rooke, and he sent a reply, at once, by one of his children. He'll meet us at his house tomorrow, tell us about that killing in Lambeth last winter.'

Out on those marshes again. But the news lifted me, it was something positive to do after a day of horrors. 'Thank you, Jack,' I said. 'You should get off home. Tamasin will be worried about you.'

'I'm seeing some old friends for a drink tonight,' he said brusquely.

When he had gone I went into my room. Poor Tamasin, I thought. And poor Dorothy, I must look in on her before I went home. I saw a sheaf of papers with the Court of Common Pleas seal on my desk, more work. Outside the rain had begun again, pattering on the windows.

NEXT MORNING Barak and I set out once again for the marshes. We took the horses; it was bright and sunny, a truly springlike day, and they were skittish, Barak's black mare Sukey sniffing the air and tossing her fine head. As we rode through the city I saw crocuses and snowdrops springing up everywhere, even among the tumbled stones of the dissolved Blackfriars monastery. At Cheapside conduit I looked at the beggars gathered round. The Bedlam man was there, singing a nonsensical song to himself, snowdrops stuck in his wild hair. He had a sharp eye on the crowd though, hoping to catch someone's eye and shame them into casting him a coin.

We rode across London Bridge and through Southwark. Gib's child had left directions with Barak; we were to take a path on the far side of Southwark village, where a church stood on the edge of the marshes, and follow it through the marshes to the cottars' dwellings. We found the church easily enough, a square little Norman building perched on the edge of the reedbeds. Beside it a wide track led through the marshes, twisting and turning to follow the higher ground. We passed a group of men shoring up a muddy, sunken stretch of path with cinders and branches. They stepped aside and bowed. I wondered if the cottars had widened and maintained this stretch them- selves, to bring their produce to market. They were bringing a whole new area into development; no wonder the landlords were keen to filch the product of their labours.

'Our local butcher's been arrested,' Barak told me. 'Him too?' I looked at him sharply. 'You haven't been buying meat in Lent?'

'No. I would have, left to myself, but Tamasin is too careful.'

'She always had a sensible head on her shoulders.'

'If it's right that Catherine Parr has reformist sympathies,' Barak said, changing the subject, 'she's stepping into a dangerous position if she marries the King. Gardiner and Bonner will be after her, watching every word she says, hoping she'll let slip some reformist opinion they can run and tell the King about.'

'They will. But it will take courage to turn down a proposal from the King.'

Barak looked across the marshes. 'Were those two killings to do with her? Someone who wants to stop the marriage;'

'Thomas Seymour would have a motive,' I said.

'I can't see Sir Thomas lying flat in a bog for most of a cold day. He'd damage his fine clothes.' Barak spoke lightly, yet there was an uneasy note in his voice as he steered a way through the reeds, all around us now.

Cottages began to appear beside the path, surrounded by little market gardens; Gib's was the fifth along, a mud-and-daub cottage like the rest, smoke curling through a hole in the thatched roof. Gib was working in his patch, loosening the heavy soil with a spade. A woman and several small children were also at work digging and sowing. Barak called out Gib's name and he came across, his wife and children following. They gathered round as we dismounted, the children staring at me wide-eyed.