‘I thought at once of Greening. But I drew back. I said, “Madam, you ask me to risk my life. If I were caught – ”
‘“Your life, sir?” She gave a little smile and with an effort laid her hand on mine. “Life is fleeting, and beyond lies God’s judgement and eternity.” Then she asked my name. “To have the world know what is done in the King’s name would be a mark of grace, Thomas, a great step to your salvation.”’
I felt a sudden anger with Anne Askew. She had used the promise of salvation as a weapon against Myldmore, I thought, a sort of blackmail.
His eyes looked inward for a moment, then he gave me a fierce look. ‘I said I would take the writings, her “Examinations”, as she called them. The document was not long. I hid it under my jerkin and took it from the cell that night. After speaking to my landlady I went straight to Master Greening’s print-shop. He was alone there. He greeted me cautiously at first, but when I told him about the manuscript, and showed it to him, he was almost overcome with joy. “I can have this sent to Bale,” he told me. “And five hundred copies smuggled back into England in a few months.” I remember him saying, “This will make a mighty uproar.”’
I did a quick calculation. ‘That would have been – what – the twenty-ninth of June?’
He looked at me, surprised. ‘Yes. I knew I must do it that night; already I could feel my courage beginning to fail. But I think the Lord gave me strength, he moved me to do it.’
I sat back. So there was not one book, but two. Myldmore had brought Anne Askew’s Examinations to Greening, and later Leeman had brought the Queen’s Lamentation. Because they knew Greening could get them smuggled out to Bale. A mighty uproar indeed. Yes, both books would certainly cause that. Perhaps these people thought, in their noddle-headed way, that the Queen’s confession of faith, and Anne Askew’s exposure of what had been done to her, would anger the populace sufficiently to overthrow their rulers in a great riot. They did not fully understand the strength and ruthlessness of those in power. Anne Askew was beyond harm now, but the publication of the Lamentation would place the Queen in great danger, and her fall would only advance the reformers’ worst enemies.
‘So what do you think has happened to them, sir?’ Myldmore asked again. ‘Greening’s group? Why was he killed? Was it – was it because I brought them the book?’
‘I do not know,’ I answered honestly. ‘But I think there was more to it than that.’
‘What more? Sir, I have told you everything, I have trusted you. Yet I sense you know things that I do not.’
‘I do, and may not tell you, as yet. But be assured, I mean you no harm.’ I asked, ‘What would you do now, go back to the Tower?’
‘I am not on duty again until next Monday.’ He shook his head. ‘I tremble with fear every time I go to work. I feel them looking at me, waiting. I am terrified that sooner or later they will find out about the book – ’
I heard several pairs of footsteps outside. Myldmore started up, then glanced at me, his eyes wide. The door opened and Barak came in with young William Cecil, who wore a stern look. There were two sturdy fellows at his side, each with a hand on a sword hilt. I thought Myldmore might try to run but he just got up and stood meekly by his chair, shaking. He turned his eyes back to me and said, in tones of quiet horror, ‘You have betrayed me.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘To the contrary. You will be protected now.’ I looked at Cecil, but his severe expression did not soften.
Chapter Twenty-six
LATE THAT AFTERNOON I stood again in Lord Parr’s office at Whitehall Palace. With us were William Cecil and Archbishop Cranmer, whose white surplice made a contrast to the dark lawyer’s robes Cecil and I wore. On the table was a large piece of paper covered with my writing, the fruit of much thinking that afternoon. We looked expectantly at the door, waiting.
We were to meet with Lord Parr at four o’clock, Cecil had informed me, when he and his men took Myldmore away from my chambers. He had told the terrified young gaoler only that he worked for people at court who were friends and would see him kept safe, housed somewhere quiet for now; a message would be sent to the Tower officials that he was ill, to buy some time.
Myldmore had been very frightened, pleading to be let go, but Cecil answered brusquely that Greening’s killers were still at large and I had encountered them very recently, which I could only confirm. As he was led out, Myldmore looked at me over his shoulder; a look of sorrow and anger, for he had bared his soul to me, while all the time I had been preparing to have him seized. As I stood in Lord Parr’s office I remembered that look. Yet Myldmore was safer hidden away somewhere – unless the Queen fell; in that case, he was just one more who would fall with the rest of us.
FOR TWO HOURS AFTER they left I had remained in my office. I pulled the shutters closed, got out pen and paper, and sat thinking; about dates and individuals, and the disappearance, now, not of one but of two crucially sensitive books. I tried to fit Myldmore’s story into the rest of what I knew. It all came back to Greening and his group; who and what they were. I lost track of time; then the Inn clock sounded three, reminding me I should be on my way. I gathered up the paper on which I had written some crucial notes, and headed down to the river to catch a wherry to the Whitehall Stairs. Once again, I changed my robe in the boat; at the palace the guards were already beginning to recognize me; some nodded respectfully as they ticked my name off their lists. I was starting to become familiar with the layout of the palace, too; that tight-packed series of extraordinary buildings, all different, interspersed with little hidden courts that had seemed so hard to navigate at first. Even the brightness and beauty of the interiors was becoming almost commonplace to me now, and I could walk along the corridors without constantly wanting to stop and gaze in wonder at a statue, a painting, a tapestry.
I arrived at Lord Parr’s office just before four; he arrived soon afterwards. Also in the room when I arrived was William Cecil and, to my surprise, Archbishop Cranmer, looking withdrawn and worried. I bowed deeply to him. Lord Parr told me the Queen would be attending us shortly. ‘I have been trying to work out where this new development with Myldmore leaves us,’ I said as we waited.
‘And where is that, Matthew?’ Cranmer pressed quietly.
‘I think we are narrowing down the possible scenarios.’
There was a tap at Lord Parr’s door and it opened. Lady Anne Herbert, the Queen’s sister, whom I had seen at Baynard’s Castle a few days ago, stood on the threshold. She bowed as the Queen herself entered, wearing a magnificent dress of gold silk, the forepart and sleeves white with a design of tiny golden unicorns. Her expression was calm and composed. Behind her stood Mary Odell. We all bowed low.
The Queen said, ‘Mary, Anne, you may return to my chamber.’ The ladies nodded to us briefly and left. She looked between the four of us and took a long breath; for a moment her composure slipped and she appeared haggard as she turned to address her uncle. ‘Your message said there had been developments? Have you recovered my book?’
‘No, Kate, but Master Shardlake has some news.’ He nodded in my direction.
‘Good?’ she asked quickly, intently.
‘Not bad, your majesty. Complicated,’ he replied.
She sighed, then turned to Cranmer. ‘Thank you for attending us, my Lord. I know my uncle has been keeping you informed of developments.’
‘I was here for the meeting of the King’s Council.’
‘Now that Gardiner and his people are no longer on the offensive,’ Lord Parr said. There was a touch of contempt in his voice, no doubt aimed at Cranmer’s tendency to absent himself from the council when matters looked dangerous.
The Queen gave her uncle a severe look. ‘We five,’ she said, ‘we are the only ones who know the Lamentation is gone. But first, my Lord Archbishop, what news from the council?’
‘Most of the discussion was about the visit of the French admiral next month. The scale of the ceremonies will be huge. Wriothesley argued that with so m
any taxes falling due this year it may cause murmuring and grudging among the populace, but the King is determined on great celebrations, nevertheless.’ He smiled. ‘And you are to be at the forefront, your majesty.’
‘I know. The King has told me of the new gowns and jewellery my ladies and I are to have. And all the time I deceive him,’ she added, a tremble in her voice. I thought how if the Lamentation suddenly appeared in public all the new finery could vanish in an instant. I remembered Myldmore’s description of Anne Askew in the Tower and suppressed a shudder.
The Archbishop continued, encouragingly, ‘Your brother, as Earl of Essex, is to welcome the ambassador and ride with him through London. He will be at the forefront of the ceremonies, too. Gardiner and Norfolk remained quiet throughout the meeting. Their heretic hunt has ended in failure, madam, that is clearer every day.’
‘Unless something brings it alive again.’ The Queen turned to me. ‘I have heard from my uncle that two of your employees were injured. I am sorry for it.’
‘Neither was seriously hurt, your majesty.’
‘And this man Myldmore, you have him somewhere safe?’ she asked Lord Parr.
‘Yes, together with the guard and the carpenter who helped Leeman.’
‘Each could be open to a charge of treason,’ Cecil observed.
Lord Parr shook his head. ‘If this matter is settled we should ensure all three move quietly out of London, to somewhere far out in the provinces.’
I said, ‘Myldmore can only pretend sickness for so long; eventually there will be enquiries made.’
‘There is no connection to us. They’ll think he’s run away.’
‘So many disappeared,’ the Queen said quietly. ‘And two dead. And all because of me.’
‘Anne Askew played her part,’ Lord Parr said gruffly. ‘God rot her wild heresy.’
Cranmer bit his lip, looking troubled, then said, ‘With your leave, your majesty, Master Shardlake would like to show us something he has worked out.’ He gestured to the sheet of paper on his desk.
The Queen looked at me and nodded, and I bowed again.
Cecil produced chairs for the Archbishop and the Queen, then stood beside Lord Parr. In front of them was a list of names and dates:
Armistead Greening – murdered 10th July
James McKendrick – vanished 11/12th July
William Curdy – vanished 11/12th July
Andres Vandersteyn – vanished 11th/12th July
Elias Rooke – fled 17th July, murdered 18th July
Michael Leeman – suborned carpenter Barwic and guard Gawger with money, almost certainly took Lamentation of a Sinner to Greening on 6th July. Fled Whitehall 19th July
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Thomas Myldmore – took Anne Askew’s writings to Greening on 29th June
I said, ‘These seven people constituted a radical group which met at Armistead Greening’s house.’
Cranmer pointed to the paper. ‘Why is Myldmore’s name separated from the others?’
‘Because he was never actually accepted into the group. There might also be others who were considered, but these first six are the core. Vandersteyn may have had links to the Anabaptists, while Curdy had the money and may have supplied the bribes which Leeman used to pay the locksmith Barwic and the guard Gawger. Greening himself almost certainly had links to John Bale in Antwerp, and likely imported forbidden books from Flanders. Myldmore’s evidence makes clear that this was more than a discussion group; it shows the fervour of some sort of Anabaptist sect.’ I looked round. ‘I think the group was trying to recruit people with connections to positions of trust, in high or secret places – the guard Leeman and the Tower gaoler Myldmore being two examples. Myldmore, however, could not accept their views on social order, nor on the Mass, and they asked him to leave. But later, when he saw what happened to Anne Askew, he felt he must act. Greening was the obvious person for him to take the woman’s book to. And he, in turn, planned to take it to John Bale.’
The others remained silent. The Queen nervously touched the pearl at her breast; Cranmer fixed me with a troubled stare. William Cecil nodded slowly. ‘Then Greening was murdered,’ I continued. ‘As for the other five – ’ I ran my finger down the list of names – ‘three immediately vanished: McKendrick, Curdy and the Dutchman. The guard Leeman remained in his place here at Whitehall. And Elias moved to work for his neighbour Okedene.’
‘If the other three fled,’ said Cecil, ‘rather than being murdered, why did not Elias and Leeman go, too?’
‘I have pondered that. It may be that Leeman thought, given he worked at Whitehall Palace, that he was safe. He has quarters there. He stayed till he found he was under investigation, and only then disappeared. As for the apprentice Elias, remember times are hard, and he provided the only income for his widowed mother and his sisters.’ I sighed. ‘He was obstinate, and probably rejected the advice of the others to join them in fleeing. He seemed, when I met him, to think Greening was the murderers’ only target. And given his youth, and perhaps limited experience, it may well be that the others did not trust him with the knowledge that they had possession of the Lamentation. Though I believe he knew that Greening had been given Anne Askew’s writings.’
Cecil said, ‘Because he said “killed for Anne Askew” before he died.’
‘Exactly.’
‘The poor boy,’ the Queen muttered. ‘He stayed for the sake of his mother and sisters, and died for it.’ She walked abruptly to the window and stood looking out over the little courtyard below, her head bowed.
Lord Parr said, ‘So these other four? Are they still alive?’
‘I do not know. The fact Elias was murdered, too, makes me think the killers were after the whole group. Whether they found them or not we do not know.’
Lord Parr stroked his white beard. ‘And whoever killed Greening and Elias is likely to have both Anne Askew’s writings and the Queen’s.’
Cecil asked. ‘Could someone powerful – Wriothesley or Gardiner, Rich or Paget – have an agent inside the group? One of the missing four? How else could anyone outside have come to know that Greening had the Lamentation?’
I said, ‘Yes, someone within that group could have been working for an enemy. I think we can rule out Leeman – if he was acting for Gardiner, the last people he would take the Lamentation to is Greening’s group. That leaves Curdy, Vandersteyn and McKendrick; three of them. But if one of them was a spy working for Gardiner or anyone else, and murdered Greening and took the Lamentation, Anne Askew’s work too, why has nothing been heard of either book since? Anne Askew’s work they might destroy, for it incriminates Wriothesley and Rich, but surely the spy, if there is one, would take the Lamentation straight to the King?’
Cranmer nodded. ‘Yes. Norfolk and Gardiner knew that Lord Hertford and Lord Lisle are about to return to the Privy Council, and that the heresy hunt had failed. It has only been recently that I have felt it prudent to return to the council myself. The sensible thing for them would have been to act at once, so far as the Lamentation was concerned.’
I said, ‘Yes, my Lord Archbishop, I agree.’
The Queen turned and looked at me, a spark of hope flashing in her eyes. ‘So you think it may not be Gardiner’s agents who killed Greening and took the Lamentation?’
‘Possibly. Though Master Cecil’s logic about an informer within the group is persuasive.’
She shook her head, mystified. ‘Someone working against a group of the godly from within? Pretending to be one of them? How could anyone bear such a betrayal of their souls?’
Lord Parr spoke with sudden impatience. ‘In God’s name, niece, when will you realize not all are as pure in mind as you?’
The Queen stared back at him, then laughed bitterly. ‘I am not pure. If I were, I would never have needed to write a book called Lamentation of a Sinner – nor failed, after my Lord Archbishop’s good advice, to destroy it through my sinful pride, and hence caused all of this. And deceived my husband in th
e process,’ she added bitterly.
I glanced at her. In other tones the words might have sounded self-pitying, but the Queen spoke with a sad, honest intensity. There was silence for a moment. Then Cecil turned to me. ‘The way Greening and Elias were killed, and your description of the two killers – that speaks to me of the involvement of someone powerful, someone who can afford to hire experienced assassins.’
I looked at him. Cecil was young indeed to be included in a council such as this, but his cleverness was as great as his calm. Lord Parr had chosen well. ‘I agree,’ I said. ‘But that does not get round the problem of why the book is still kept hidden.’ I shifted my stance, for I had been standing a long time and my back was hurting. ‘Lord Parr, my Lord Archbishop, your majesty: with your leave I would show you what I have written on the reverse of this paper. It is a chronology, and may illustrate matters further.’ The Queen nodded, touching Catherine Howard’s pearl again. I had never seen her so subdued. But she leaned across the table with the others as I turned the paper over:
9th June
Leeman overhears the Queen and the Archbishop arguing over the Lamentation. He has his group plot to steal it.
29th June
Anne Askew brought to the tower and tortured.
29th June
Myldmore takes Anne Askew’s writings to Greening.
5th July
Two men, one with half an ear missing (likely the same who earlier tried to recruit the Queen’s page Garet) are disturbed by Elias trying to break into Greening’s premises.
6th July
Leeman, having suborned the carpenter Barwic and the guard Gawger, steals the Lamentation. Logic suggests he took it to Greening.