My thoughts went back to Maleverer. He had allowed Rich to involve him in a plot against me, no doubt in return for help to get rebels’ lands, and that had been his downfall. But what if that had been a side issue, what if he had been playing a double game? He had refused to accept that Jennet Marlin might not have stolen those papers, had insisted Radwinter was guilty of Broderick’s death, and had allowed a pair of drunks to be appointed as his guards. I had taken it all for stupidity and obstinacy, but what if it had been something else? Where was he now, in London or on his way back to York? I thought, if I knew who appointed those guards . . .
Joan returned with eggs, bread and cheese. ‘I am sorry to land you with such a full household,’ I told her. ‘But I promised old Master Wrenne he could stay here till he is fit for some family business he has to deal with, and Barak hurt his leg. Where are they, by the way?’
She sniffed. ‘Went out early. Master Jack had some private business, he said, and Tamasin was to go to Whitehall to see if she still had a place. There is some trouble in the Queen’s household.’
‘So I hear,’ I replied neutrally. The household would be dissolved now. Tamasin could be out of a job.
She paused, then said, ‘I don’t mind Master Wrenne, sir, poor sick old gentleman, but that girl. It’s not right her being in the house with Jack. And she’s a pert way with her, in her fine ladylike clothes – she may say she only wants to help with the old man but I think she likes having her feet under a gentleman’s table.’
‘She’ll be gone soon, Joan,’ I said wearily. ‘The four of us need a few days’ rest.’
‘She’s no morals. They think I don’t hear her scurrying across to Master Jack’s room at dead of night, but I do.’
‘All right, Joan. I am too tired to deal with that now.’
She curtsied and went out.
I ate heartily. The meal over, I prowled the room restlessly. I thought of Maleverer and Sergeant Leacon, and Broderick swinging in his cell aboard ship. I thought of Tamasin; Barak would probably see his friend today, what would he find out about her father? I thought of Martin Dakin, and half resolved to go to Lincoln’s Inn, but I was still too tired to face the prospect of seeing familiar people, nosy lawyers who might have heard about Fulford. It could wait until tomorrow, when with luck the manacle would be off. Perhaps Bealknap would be there, and I wondered if that rogue knew what had been done to me to save that case for him.
I decided to go and look at the old orchard. Putting on my boots, I walked down the garden. Everything was drenched, and at the far wall, by the gate to the orchard, the ground was quite waterlogged. I unlocked the gate and went through.
The apple orchard had probably been there centuries; the trees had been gnarled and very old. The orchard walls bounded Chancery Lane on one side, the Lincoln’s Inn grounds on two, and my garden on the fourth. The ground sloped gently down to my wall. The orchard was, as Barak had said, a sea of mud, dotted with waterlogged holes where tree roots had been grubbed up. Without the trees to absorb any of the water from the rains, a pool the size of a small house had built up against my wall. I cursed; if there was much more rain my garden could be flooded. I resolved to visit the Inn Treasurer on the morrow.
The sight of the devastated orchard unsettled me. I went back into my garden and headed for the stables. There I found Genesis and Sukey in their stalls, munching hay. Both looked up and neighed in greeting. I went and stroked Genesis. Looking into his dark eyes I thought of what it must have been like for the horses, driven two hundred miles through unknown countryside by strangers. Did they wonder, as I had in the Tower, whether they would ever see home again? I had a sudden memory of Oldroyd’s huge horse charging through the mist at Tamasin and me, that misty morning two months before. That was where it had all started.
As I left the stable I felt raindrops on my face. I walked quickly round to the front door. There was someone standing in the porch, his back to me, a tall figure in a black coat. He was looking at the door as though uncertain whether to knock. My hand went to the dagger at my belt. I had worn it since it was returned to me at the Tower.
‘Can I help you?’ I asked sharply.
He turned round. It was Sergeant Leacon, in civilian clothes, a cap on his head instead of a helmet. His boyish face looked careworn. I saw he wore a sword, then thought, so do most men in London. He doffed his cap and bowed.
‘Master Shardlake—’ He broke off as he saw my face.
‘Yes,’ I said grimly. ‘I have had a hard time in the Tower.’
‘I heard you were released, sir. I got your address from Lincoln’s Inn. Sir, I am sorry I had to detain you at the wharf. Those were my orders—’
‘What do you want?’
‘A word, sir, if I may.’
He seemed tired and crestfallen. I took pity on him. ‘Come in, then.’ I walked past him, opened the door, and led him into the parlour.
‘Would you take off your sword, sergeant? Only I am wary of sharp blades just now.’
‘Of course, sir.’ He reddened as he hastily unbuckled his scabbard. I took it and stood it against the door.
‘Now, sergeant, what may I do for you?’
‘I – I have been discharged, sir. I am plain George Leacon now. For letting those men get drunk, they said, providing Broderick’s killer with an opportunity.’ He hesitated. ‘I was told Master Radwinter took his life. In the Tower.’
‘Yes, he did.’
‘I was questioned yesterday, by Archbishop Cranmer himself.’ I studied his face but he looked only dejected and exhausted. So Cranmer had not told him I was his informant.
‘Yes?’
‘He asked me how it came the guards were drunk.’
‘What did you say?’
‘That they were a pair of sots, sir, and drunks can always find liquor. They smuggled it aboard.’
‘Who chose those men?’ I asked quietly.
‘The guard captain suggested them to Sir William, I think to get them off his hands, save trouble on the journey back. When Sir William gave me the names of those two, said they were to come on the boat, I objected. I told him they were not good men to choose.’
I frowned. ‘Then why did he pick them?’
Leacon shrugged. ‘He did not want to be seen to do the bidding of a mere sergeant. I believe it was poor judgement on his part.’
That phrase again. ‘Poor judgement. Yet it is you that pays the price. You are made the scapegoat.’
‘That was ever the way of things, sir. Sir William has paid a price too, though. I hear he has been stripped of his place on the Council of the North.’
‘Tell me, do you think Radwinter killed Broderick?’
He looked puzzled. ‘Who else could it have been? Radwinter became stranger and stranger in his mind as time went on.’
‘Perhaps.’ I looked at him, then asked quickly, ‘Does the name Blaybourne mean anything to you? Or Braybourne?’
‘Braybourne is a place in Kent, sir, some way from where I come from. Have you another land case there?’ He looked puzzled, and a little concerned, as though the dishevelled figure before him might also be wandering in his mind.
‘It is not important,’ I said with a smile. ‘Now, Master Leacon, why have you come to see me?’
‘Sir, you may think it an impertinence, after I arrested you, but —’
‘Your parents’ land case. Of course.’ I had forgotten all about it.
‘They are in London. And now I am dismissed, I have no money for a lawyer.’
‘I will see them. A promise is a promise. But I have been away two months, I need a few days to straighten my affairs. Bring your parents to my chambers next Wednesday. Have they their papers with them?’
‘Yes, sir.’ His face relaxed with relief. ‘Thank you, sir. I knew you were a gentleman.’
I smiled wryly. ‘I shall have had a shave before then, I will look more presentable.’
‘I am grateful to you, Master Shardlake.’
&nbs
p; ‘Here is your sword.’ I looked out of the window. The rain was teeming down again. ‘I fear you will have a wet journey back.’
I watched him walk down my path from the little window by the front door. Dutiful soldier, I thought, dutiful son. Surely Leacon had nothing to do with any of what had happened. But what of Maleverer? Bad judgement? Or had he shut Broderick’s mouth to stop him naming him as connected to the conspiracy? Did he have the papers? Yet Maleverer could not have struck me down at King’s Manor – he had been away.
I climbed the stairs again to Giles’s room. He was asleep but as I came in he stirred and opened his eyes.
‘I am sorry,’ I said. ‘Did I wake you?’
‘I sleep too much.’ He heaved himself into a sitting position. ‘I shall get up for supper this evening.’
‘Guy said you should have a few more days in bed.’
He laughed. ‘I shall take root here.’ He looked at me. ‘You still look tired yourself.’
‘I am. I have just had a visitor. Young Leacon. He seeks my help on a legal matter.’
Wrenne raised his eyebrows. ‘After arresting you on the wharf? I would have sent him off with a flea in his ear.’
I sighed. ‘I promised him help in York. And as I told him, a promise is a promise.’
‘That is true,’ he said emphatically. ‘There is nothing more important.’ He looked at me. ‘Unless you are the King, who breaks them all the time.’
‘Ay,’ I answered inattentively.
‘You seem preoccupied, Matthew.’
‘I am sorry. Only I still wonder who really attacked me at King’s Manor, and helped Broderick die. Who is it who has been scurrying and slipping through our midst all this time? And if the person was on the boat, he is in London now.’
‘Do you think you could be in danger?’ Giles asked.
I shook my head. ‘No. If I was, something would have happened long before now.’ I gave him a wry smile. ‘I should forget about it. I have told Cranmer I want only to live quietly as a lawyer from now on.’
‘ ’Tis a sensible policy these days.’
‘For the rest of my life. Barak feels the same.’
‘A lawyer’s life is a good one,’ Wrenne said. ‘I found it so.’ He sighed deeply. ‘But that is over, now I must find my nephew, make my dispositions. I shall go to Gray’s Inn, perhaps not tomorrow but the next day.’ He leaned back on his pillow and his eyes closed. I thought, he is still weak, is he fit even to go up Chancery Lane to Gray’s Inn?
I thought again about Bernard Locke’s strange words to me in the Tower. He had said Martin Dakin was no conspirator, and he was safe. But if he was not a conspirator, what had Locke meant by safe? I decided I would go to Gray’s Inn tomorrow, seek Martin Dakin out.
Chapter Forty-six
BARAK AND TAMASIN returned in the afternoon. Barak came to my room where I was resting. He looked exhausted.
‘I haven’t been able to lay hold of my mate on Cheap-side,’ he said. ‘He’s on a job out of town. He won’t be back till tomorrow.’
I put a hand to my sore jaw. I must visit Guy soon, have it looked at. ‘Not breaking into a house, I hope.’
‘No. He’s a locksmith, as it happens. Fitting locks for a new house in the country. Why d’you always assume all my contacts are criminals?’
‘I am sorry.’ I pulled back my sleeve, displaying the rusty manacle. ‘I’ve put some grease on it to ease the chafing, but it stinks and makes my shirt messy. I won’t feel properly free of the Tower till this thing is off.’
‘I’ll try him again tomorrow. I was told he would be back then.’
‘Thank you.’ I looked at his tired face, his wet hair. Outside it was still raining. ‘Did Tamasin go to Whitehall?’
‘Yes. She was told there were to be rearrangements in the Queen’s household, she should go back in a few days.’ He looked at me seriously. ‘She is afraid to return, given that questions are being asked of the Queen’s ladies.’
‘Not the servants, like Tamasin?’
‘No, but she fears it may come to that, considers it better just to melt away into the background. I think she’s right.’
‘But she will lose the chance of getting a job in the household. The best-paid work in the land for a servant.’
He shrugged. ‘She’s afraid, especially after seeing what they did to you. She’ll find something else. And she still has a little of her grandmother’s money left, she says.’
‘That has lasted her well.’
‘Ay.’ He sighed. ‘I spoke with my old mate.’
‘Any luck?’
He frowned. ‘Seems there’s a possible candidate. I’ve got to go back tomorrow.’
‘Who?’
‘He wouldn’t say. But I was told he is a professional man, whatever that might mean.’ He broke off at a knock on the door. Tamasin came in.
‘I am sorry you have lost your place, Tamasin,’ I said gently.
‘Yes.’ She stood there, looking exhausted.
‘Stay a few days longer,’ I said. ‘Both of you. Until – well, until things are clearer. Perhaps you may find work at court again.’
‘When the Queen is dead?’ She spoke in a bitter tone I had never heard. ‘Perhaps to be a servant in the household of a new Queen, watching to see how long she will last, what secrets I may accidentally hear that could get me into trouble?’ She shook her head emphatically. ‘No, I will never go back to work there, whatever they pay.’
‘All right, Tammy,’ Barak said, but she went on.
‘They say at Whitehall Lady Rochford has gone mad in the Tower, screams and raves and can make no sensible answer. The poor Queen is held at Hampton Court, Jesu knows what state she is in. Still, a woman must smile and be cheerful, must she not?’ She twisted her face into a parody of a girlish smile, then turned and ran from the room.
THAT EVENING Giles and I dined quietly in the parlour, listening to the rain buffeting down outside. Barak had been with Tamasin in her room all afternoon. Joan’s face had been sour but I was past caring.
It was Giles’s first meal out of bed and he seemed better. I told him about the state of the orchard and he agreed I ought to go to the Inn Treasurer the next day. ‘Otherwise they will say you did not give them proper notice if your garden does flood.’ He smiled. ‘You know what lawyers are like.’
‘You are right. I want them to dig a trench halfway down that slope, to catch the water. It should be done now, this rain seems never-ending.’ I sighed. ‘And it is time I showed my face.’
NEXT MORNING I rose early and, after breakfast, made ready to walk to Lincoln’s Inn. Tamasin and Barak had gone out together, Tamasin to look for a room, Barak to find the lockpicker – and to find out about Tamasin’s father. It had stopped raining for now but there were pools of water everywhere in Chancery Lane, and slippery clumps of wet leaves in the muddy roadway. I picked my way along carefully. There was a cold wind too; winter was truly begun. There was a barber in Chancery Lane and I decided to take advantage of his services first, to make myself look presentable. I sat in his chair, conscious of that damned manacle still on my wrist, which I did my best to hide under my sleeve. His conversation was of the strange doings at Hampton Court. Rumours were flying around now, that the Queen had been arrested, that she had been found to be a spy, or in bed with everyone from a scullery boy to Cranmer himself. The barber retold these gems of gossip with relish. ‘ ’Tis like the days of Anne Bullen again,’ he said cheerfully. I told him I was sure it was all untrue, then went on to Lincoln’s Inn.
It felt strange to pass under the Great Gate again, to see the solid red-brick buildings of Gatehouse Court, the barristers passing to and fro. Acquaintances nodded to me as I made my way to the Treasurer’s office, but I was eager to press on and conclude my business. As the Treasurer disclaimed all responsibility for the flood at first, I sharply reminded him of the laws of nuisance and before I left I had the promise that a trench would be dug on the morrow. I returned to my cham
bers feeling slightly more cheerful.
Two solicitors were passing by; they paused and eyed me curiously. I frowned; my hand was in the pocket of my robe, the manacle well hidden.
My clerk Skelly was busy at his desk. He greeted me with a genuine enthusiasm that disarmed me, his eyes shining behind his glasses. ‘I have prayed for you, sir,’ he said. ‘Out among those wild heathens. And now you are returned to us. But your face is swollen, sir.’
‘A bad tooth,’ I said. And indeed it was throbbing again. So at least rumours about my imprisonment had not reached Lincoln’s Inn. They would soon enough, though. ‘How is the work?’ I asked. I had parcelled my cases out among barristers I knew and trusted to deal with while I was away.
‘No real problems, sir. Brother Hennessy won in Re. Cropper last week.’
‘Did he? Good.’ I paused. ‘I have heard there have been officials from the Privy Council at the Inns, making enquiries to do with the spring conspiracy.’
‘Not here, sir.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Maybe up at Gray’s Inn.’
IT WAS EARLY AFTERNOON before I brought myself up to date. Yes, I thought, there is enough business here for me to pick up and be quite busy. And the payment Cranmer had promised would mean I could clear the debt on my father’s estate. There was a letter waiting from the mortgagee asking when he would be paid, and I wrote a terse reply saying he would not have to wait long. Then I went over to the dining hall for lunch.
I had decided I would walk up to Gray’s Inn that afternoon, and over my meal I thought more about Martin Dakin. What if he spurned the idea of mending his quarrel with Giles, as he might, given what family quarrels can be like. Again I wondered if my concern for the old man was linked to my guilty feeling that I had let my father down. But no, I thought, this is the only right thing to do.
As I walked to the gate I saw Bealknap approaching from his chambers. I wondered if he had seen me from his window. ‘Brother Shardlake!’ He greeted me cheerfully. ‘I hear you have had some adventures since we last met – some trouble with His Majesty at York, was it not? And a sojourn in the Tower.’ His eyes went to my right hand, where the damned manacle had slipped down and was visible. ‘Goodness me,’ he said mildly.