К Сэнсом - Revelation

I stood up. I looked out of the window into the yard. The drunken guard had sat down on an upturned pail. I went back downstairs. I turned to face Harsnet. I made myself speak steadily.

‘I think –’ I said, ‘I think he means to kill Catherine Parr.’

ISTOOD BEFORE Archbishop Cranmer’s paper-strewn desk. The prelate stared at me intensely, and I felt the force of the powerful mind behind those blue eyes. Around the desk, also looking at me, were both Seymour brothers. Harsnet and I had just finished telling them of our visit to Cantrell’s house. We had gone immediately to Lambeth Palace, and the Seymours had been summoned to meet us there.

‘Then it seems Cantrell is the killer,’ Cranmer said quietly. ‘Have you left men at his house?’

‘The three constables,’ Harsnet replied. ‘They are hiding in the house and in the shed in the back yard. If he returns they will surprise him and take him.’

‘But what if he does not?’ Lord Hertford asked. As ever, he came straight to the point. ‘What if he is even now pursuing his eighth victim?’

‘We must send a squad of men to Catherine Parr’s house at once,’ Sir Thomas said. ‘To ride to her succour, ensure she is protected. I already have men at the Charterhouse –’

‘No.’ Cranmer’s voice was firm. ‘What would the King think, if he learned there was a mob of your men in Catherine Parr’s house? Dear God, if anything happens to her… The arrested courtiers are starting to be released; there was no evidence against them. And Bonner is frightened of arresting more people in London; he is starting to fear popular resistance. I have been with the King this afternoon, he has assured me of his trust. But what if something happens to Catherine Parr now, after I have concealed so much from him?’

‘We cannot be sure Shardlake has the truth,’ Hertford said. ‘Cantrell could have built any one of a hundred fantasies around the story of the Great Whore.’

‘Yes,’ Cranmer agreed. ‘He could. But I know Revelation, and I think Matthew could be right. We will send men of my guard to her house, tell some story of a threat from a dangerous burglar that I learned of.’ Decisive now, he called for his secretary. Speaking rapidly and urgently, he told him to fetch the dozen best men from the palace guard, and at the same time order the river barge to take fifteen horses across the river.

The secretary looked confused for a moment. ‘A dozen men, my lord? But that will leave the palace almost unguarded.’

‘I don’t care! Just do it!’ It was the first time I had seen Cranmer truly lose his temper. ‘Get the sergeant to choose the men, go to the landing stage yourself and arrange the horses. I want the best animals, ready for riding in twenty minutes!’ Lord Hertford reached over and touched him gently on the shoulder. He nodded, and continued more quietly. ‘And most important, I want a fast rider sent now to Lady Latimer’s house in Charterhouse Square. He is to say a gang of burglars has designs on the house. The steward is to lock all the doors and windows, keep Lady Catherine safe until my guards arrive. Go now, do it!’

The secretary fled. Cranmer turned to Harsnet. ‘Gregory, I put you in charge of this. Matthew, you and Barak are to accompany him.’

‘Yes, my lord.’ Barak was waiting outside. I had sent a message home before riding to Lambeth, and he had ridden across. He had traced Tamasin to the house of one of her friends, but she had refused to see him. He was in a turmoil of anger and contrition.

I winced at a sharp stab of pain from my back. ‘What is wrong?’ Cranmer asked.

‘I was burned, at Goddard’s house. Not badly.’

‘You have borne much, Matthew, I know.’ He gave me a hard, serious look. ‘I hope Lady Catherine’s steward has some sense. It is not over yet,’ he said.

We donned our coats and hurried downstairs, through the Great Hall and out into the palace gardens, picking Barak up on the way. It was evening now, the sun setting behind stretches of white cloud, turning them pink. I shivered.

‘Where are those men?’ Harsnet said impatiently.

‘The sergeant will have to gather them together,’ Barak said.

Harsnet turned to me. ‘Are you fit to ride to the Charterhouse, Matthew? With your burns?’

‘I have been in this from the start. If this is the end I wish to be there.’

There was a sound of hoofbeats and jingling harness, and a rider shot out of the palace gates. ‘There goes the messenger,’ Barak said. A moment later a dozen armed and helmeted men appeared round the corner of the house, led by a sergeant. They had discarded their pikes and were armed with swords. They looked puzzled at this sudden change to their routine; they were used to patrolling the palace grounds, not chasing across London. But they were all strong-looking fellows, and the sergeant had a keen look about him. He was a tall man in his thirties, with a hawk nose and keen eyes. He approached Harsnet.

‘Master coroner?’

‘Yes.’

‘Sergeant Keeble, sir.’

‘Are your men ready to ride?’

‘Yes, sir. We’re to go to Charterhouse Square, I’m told.’

‘Yes. Come, I will explain on the way to the landing-stage.’

‘Cantrell’s had a full day to get into Lady Parr’s house,’ Barak said to me quietly. ‘And what’s the betting he spied out the place carefully before?’

‘Surely Lady Catherine is well guarded. Given her importance now.’

THE ARCHBISHOP’S secretary had done his work; when we reached the river the barge was waiting, and on the London side we found a group of horses ready.

We then rode fast and hard to the Charterhouse as dusk deepened to darkness. The jolting movement set my back on fire; the muddy country road made riding all the more difficult. In the fields on either side of us startled cows blundered away. We rode on through Smithfield, into Charterhouse Square. On the corner stood the Green Man, now boarded up. We rode across the grass of the square and stopped outside the Charterhouse Gate. A little way off a group of beggars stood in the open doorway of the old abandoned chapel. They stayed where they were, watching; they were not going to approach a group of armed men. Sir Thomas drew his horse to a halt. ‘We should make a search of the area first, I think,’ he said. ‘If we rush the place and he is near by, he might escape. I want him caught this time.’ He ended with a hard look at me, and spurred his horse towards the gate of the Charterhouse. The gate was opened and we rode into the Charterhouse precinct.

Sir Thomas’ steward Russell emerged from the conduit-house. Seymour told him what had happened. ‘I suggest sending three or four of the Archbishop’s men on foot to search the area,’ Sir Thomas said. ‘If he is hanging around and we send everyone looking round the square, we could alarm him and he might run. Shardlake, Barak, you should stay out of the way for now. He knows you.’

Again his strategy made good sense. Three of Cranmer’s men were sent to reconnoitre; the rest of us stayed in the courtyard. A man in a stained smock emerged from the conduit-house and came over to us, wiping his hands on a rag. ‘I’ve done all I can, Sir Thomas,’ he said. ‘I sent a man over to Islington Fields. The streams up there have overflowed, there is quite a lake of water. It is backed up behind the lock gates down there.’

‘We cannot leave things as they are, master engineer,’ Harsnet said.

‘If we have no more rain the water up at Islington will start to drain slowly into the ground and the pressure on the gates will subside. Then we could open the gates in a few days. Let us hope the wet spell is over.’