Hertford looked at me. 'We have been asking Coroner Harsnet how it is he cannot find this Goddard despite all the resources we have given him.'
'It is easy to disappear in London,' I said. Harsnet gave me a brief, grateful nod.
'But this man must have antecedents.' Hertford slapped a hand violently on to his desk, an unexpected gesture that made us all start. 'He must have come from somewhere before he joined the abbey, or did he spring from the earth like some demon from Hell;'
'I do not believe his family are from within London,' Harsnet said. 'I think they may have come from the nearer parts of Middlesex, or Surrey or Kent. It must be near enough for him to ride into London. I am still making enquiries with the officials of all those counties, but it takes time.'
'Time is what we do not have,' Cranmer said. 'There are still three more vials to be poured out, three more murders to come, and with each it gets harder to conceal what is happening.' Cranmer looked at me sternly. 'Master Harsnet says you think there may be another suspect. Some young man who visited Yarington's whore. The whore who escaped,' he added, with a sidelong look at Harsnet. They were blaming him for everything: the lack of progress, the escape of the whore and Lockley's vanishing.
'The fact he knew Yarington kept a girl in his house makes this visitor a suspect,' I said carefully. 'But there is nothing to link him to the other murders. Yet all the evidence against Goddard, too, is circumstantial.' I glanced at Harsnet again, then back at the Archbishop. 'My lord, the man we seek is very clever. He seems to have made killing his life's mission.'
'More like a man possessed by the devil than a madman,' Lord Hertford observed. Was he, too, of Harsnet's way of thinking, I wondered.
'We do not know what he is,' I answered.
'Something new,' Sir Thomas said. 'Well, the world is full of new things.' He gave a quick, cynical half-smile. I thought, this is like an interesting puzzle to him. 'Maybe we should leave this man to fulfil his prophecy,' he said. 'Concentrate on covering up the murders. When he has completed the seven he will stop, surely. Perhaps he thinks the world will come to an end then. When it does not, perhaps it will be too much for him. Perhaps he will kill himself.'
'I do not think someone so devoted to killing could stop,' I said quietly.
'I agree,' Cranmer said. 'And how can we allow these outrages to continue?' He turned again to Harsnet. 'How many men do you have at your disposal, Gregory?'
'Four.'
And you are circulating the names Cantrell supplied amongst the radical brethren?'
'Yes.'
'And now we need to find Lockley as well as that girl Abigail.' Cranmer considered. 'You need more men. People who are competent to make these enquiries. I dare not take men from my household, there are spies there now.'
'I need to be careful too,' Lord Hertford agreed.
'Perhaps I can help,' Sir Thomas said. 'I have a household full of clever young men, and a good steward. I can lend you a dozen if you like.'
His brother and Cranmer exchanged glances. I could see that they were wondering how far he could be trusted. I wondered why he had made the offer. Perhaps for him this was an adventure now, the Turkish war on a small scale. Hertford hesitated, then nodded.
'Very well, Thomas,' Cranmer said. 'If you could make some men quietly available that would help us greatly. But they must come under the direct supervision of Coroner Harsnet.'
Seymour looked at the coroner. 'My men are to be placed under the orders of a clerk:'
'If you want to be involved, yes,' Lord Hertford told him bluntly.
Sir Thomas met his gaze for a moment, then shrugged.
'I will use them well,' Harsnet said. 'I can send them to the constables of all the villages round London — from Barnet and Enfield to Bromley and Surbiton - to find whether the name Goddard is known.'
The Archbishop looked at Harsnet. 'Perhaps I should have set this in train before, given you more resources.'
I looked at him with respect; it was unheard of for anyone in power to admit a mistake. Harsnet nodded in gratitude.
And you, Matthew,' Cranmer added, 'keep thinking, keep puzzling it over. That is your role. And keep yourself and your household safe.' He put his hand to his mouth, kneading his lower lip between his finger and thumb. 'What will he do, do you think, when he has poured out the seven vials:'
'Find a new theme for murder,' I answered. 'There are plenty in Revelation.'
CRANMER CLOSED the meeting shortly after, asking the Seymour brothers to stay behind. Harsnet and I walked together along the dim passageways of the Archbishop's palace.
'These new men will be a great help,' he said.
'Yes,' I agreed. 'Cranmer understands how hard you are working,' I added.
'He is always most loyal to those who serve him. Yet I feel I let him down, letting the whore escape then losing Lockley. I let the steward go, by the way. He knew nothing more.'
'We all make mistakes, Gregory.'
He shook his head. 'I should have served him better. Particularly with all the strain he is under now. You saw how troubled and afraid he is.'
'No evidence of heresy has been found among his associates who were arrested;'
'No. There would be none to find. The Archbishop is too cautious to hire men whom the papists would call heretics.'
'Then perhaps he will be safe. His enemies cannot go to the King without evidence.'
'They will not give up easily. And things are going badly in Parliament. The Act to prevent women and common folk from reading the Bible is progressing fast. But Christ and his saints will nevertheless win the final victory, for so we are told.' His tone became intense. 'The persecuted church is the true church.' He gave me a piercing look, suddenly the hot-gospeller.
'What news on Catherine Parr;' I asked to change the subject.
'Still she will not agree to marry the King. They say she thinks on the fate of Catherine Howard. Better to think on God's will, the chance she has been given to influence the King.'
'How can we ever be sure what God's will is;'
He smiled, his severe mood gone as quickly as it had come. 'Oh, but one can, Matthew. If one prays. As one day you will understand, I am sure of it.'
I RODE BACK along the riverbank to London Bridge. I passed the spot where we had found Dr Gurney's body. In the distance I could see the squatters' cottages where Tupholme had been mutilated and left to die. That day the river sparkled in the spring sunshine, the beds of reeds behind the path soughing gently in a light breeze. I wondered if I would ever be able to appreciate the beauty of the vista again.
I crossed the river at London Bridge and rode into town through the crowded streets. Though feeling much safer on horseback, I still looked around warily as I rode along. On the corner between Thames Street and New Fish Street a pair of beggars sat underneath the new clock tower they were building there, no more than steps and scaffolding as yet. Two sturdy-looking young men in ragged clothes and battered caps, they sat staring out at the crowd. A woman sat between them, also dressed in rags, her head cast down. As I passed, she looked up, and I saw that she was beautiful, a young maid no more than sixteen. She met my eyes with a desolate look. I thought of the tooth-drawers, who would pay to destroy her face.
The taller of the two young men saw my eyes meet hers. He stood up and took a couple of steps towards me.
'Don't you eye up my sister!' he shouted in a country accent. 'Think you're fucking wonderful in your fine robe, don't you, fucking hunchback! Give us some money, we're starving!'
I moved the horse along, as fast as I could through the crowds. My heart thumped as I heard the beggar try to follow me through the crowd, a shower of insults and demands for money at my back. People turned and stared back at him. 'It costs money to look at normal people, bent-back!' I looked over my shoulder. The beggar's friend had taken his arm and was pulling him back to the clock tower, afraid of attracting the constable. I moved on, glad the encounter had not taken place at night.
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