C.J. Sansom - Revelation

'Then I will make the order. Reports to me every fourteen days. Payments to be made from the Bedlam funds subject to review by me. Review hearing in two months.' He looked again at Adam. 'This boy is very young. Too young to be left to rot indefinitely in the Bedlam because in his madness he says dangerous things.' He turned to me. 'At law, if he is insane, he should be made a ward of court. Yet the Privy Council have not warded him. So at the moment he is in a state of legal non-existence.'

'That is so, your honour.'

'At the Privy Council's will. But these, I suppose, are the times we live in.' He looked at me. 'Make sure he is cared for, Serjeant Shardlake.'

'I will, your honour.'

Ainsworth looked down at his papers, and I nodded to Barak. He nudged Shawms. The keepers manhandled Adam into the passage, and I walked out with Daniel and Minnie. Metwys followed at a distance.

Outside, Daniel and Minnie expressed their thanks. Guy offered to walk part of the way home with them. They nodded, turning sorrowful eyes to where Adam was being hauled through the door, followed by many curious looks. Barak and I left them on the courthouse steps. The rain had stopped, though the skies were still leaden.

'No sign of Harsnet,' Barak said.

'We'll have to wait.' I watched the receding figures of Guy and the Kites. Guy's tall head was bent to hear something Minnie was saying.

'By God, the old Moor will need all his skills.' Barak's voice was suddenly full of angry emotion.

I turned to him. 'The hearing today upset you?'

'Wouldn't it upset any human creature; Sometimes. . .' He hesitated.

'What?'

'Sometimes these days I feel that everywhere I look there is madness and darkness and devils.'

'We are bound to find the killer now, as we are to aid Adam Kite.' I spoke quietly, to myself as much as to him.

'Ay, and here comes the man of sure and certain faith to tell us where to go next.' Barak nodded to where Harsnet was approaching, his coat swirling round him as he shoved through the crowds around the court. He looked weary, exhausted.

'The girl's escaped,' he began without preliminary.

'Abigail?' I asked. 'The prostitute? How?'

'Asked to go to the jakes and slipped out through the window. It's on the first floor, she's lucky she didn't break her neck.'

'What about Yarington's steward?'

'Oh, he's safe in the Lollards' Tower. Whining creature. But there's no more to be got out of him.'

'I have some news at least,' I said. I told him what the boy Timothy had said. Harsnet thought hard for a moment, then shook his head.

'That might mean nothing. Abigail's visitor isn't necessarily the killer.'

'But who else would know Yarington was keeping a whore? Unless he had a history of it.'

'He didn't.' Harsnet shook his head. 'I've spoken to all the congregation. As far as they were concerned, Yarington was a man devoted to celibacy. It was only in these last few months he started being cautious about people coming to his house.'

'Any progress in finding Goddard?'

'I've asked the London city council and the coroners and sheriffs of Kent, Surrey and Middlesex to seek out a well-to-do family of that name, whose son went for a monk. Nothing. And I've put the word around so that questions are being asked among all the radical churches and religious groups.' He looked at me seriously. 'That is a delicate matter, it is fortunate I am trusted there. But no one so far knows anything of a man of Goddard's description.'

'Perhaps a handsome young man with dark hair, such as Timothy described, should also be asked for?'

'There could be hundreds such,' Harsnet said irritably. 'But I will ask,' he added more quietly. He looked at me. 'I am going to have to change our arrangements today. I am due to meet with Lord Hertford. Bonner is extending his search for butchers and performers of forbidden plays down to Westminster, but it's not his jurisdiction. We are going to try and stop him.' He looked across the courtyard to the Painted Tower, where Parliament was meeting, two guards in the red coats of the King's livery standing with pikes at the bottom of the steps. 'They are going to pass the Act forbidding Bible-reading to all but men of gentleman status,' he said quietly. 'The King has sanctioned it. Our backs are against the wall.' He sighed. 'I will have to leave you to go to Lockley yourself, Serjeant Shardlake, but say you have my authority and he'll find himself arrested if he doesn't cooperate. Let me know what happens. Can you meet me here again in three hours?'

'Yes. It might be worthwhile using the time to visit young Cantrell again,' I suggested. 'Though I don't think he knows any thing more.'

'Yes. Anything. Anything that may help us, Master Shardlake.' He gave me a desperate, harried look, then turned to go.

'Should we cancel our dinner tonight?' I called after him.

He waved a hand. 'No, no, we have time for that.' Then he walked quickly away.

WE RETURNED TO Chancery Lane. The streets were crowded now, and I felt nervous and vulnerable as we rode along. My arm hurt too. When we arrived home Philip Orr was sitting in the kitchen, repairing a broken box. 'No sign of anyone around that shouldn't be?' I asked.

'No, sir,' he said seriously. 'Thank the Lord. Just the usual beggars in Chancery Lane.'

'Hanging around up to no good, like the lawyers?'

He gave me a puzzled look. Like many of the radicals, he had little sense of humour.

'I expect you will be glad when this is over, to be able to get back to your normal work,' I said. I realized I did not know what Orr's usual work was.

He smiled sadly. 'Spending my days in this kitchen is restful compared to my normal duties, sir. I assist Master Harsnet in collecting the bodies of those who die. I take them to the storage place. And I ensure order in the court, and sometimes go and chase up witnesses who do not wish to appear.'

'Your master will be missing you, then.' I realized Harsnet had deprived himself in order to ensure our security.

‘I have an assistant, he will aid him as he can.'

We set out again to Smithfield. 'Harsnet didn't sound like he's having much luck with his search,' Barak said. We had reached the country lanes now and relaxed our watchfulness.

'London and the neighbouring counties are a large area to scour. Sixty thousand people in London, they say, and more every year.'

'Ay. And the godly folk will be suspicious of questions, even from Harsnet.'

'That is what this man relies on. The anonymity of this heaving city. He could not do what he does in some country parish, or even a small town, without running a much greater risk of being caught.'

'Mad and possessed, Harsnet called him.'

'He is not possessed.' I decided then to tell Barak of the conversation I had had with Guy. As we turned into Holborn and passed the great houses of the rich facing the north side, I told him of De Rais and Strodyr. 'They did what they did for perverted pleasure, neither God nor the devil came into it.'

He nodded slowly. 'Well, that is true of most of the stronger urges men are subject to. If someone has a desire to beat whores, or sodomize boys, the urge seizes them and they have to follow it. Sometimes men who otherwise are quite normal.' He gave me a sidelong look. 'Lord Cromwell knew that, and took advantage of it with his spies in the brothels over at Southwark that cater to special tastes.'

'I know. Obsession,' I said quietly. 'A hidden, all-consuming obsession with violent killing.'

We passed through a busy throng at Smithfield, for it was market- day, and arrived at Charterhouse Square. There were only a couple of beggars sitting on the steps of the old chapel, two older men and an old woman who looked as though they could not move far. The others would be begging at Smithfield, I guessed. I wondered if they supported these old folk, shared the meagre charity they received.