Lamentation (The Shardlake Series Book 6) (28 page)

A door in the main courtyard opened and Lord Parr stepped out. He wore his dark silk robe and cap, and his thick gold chain of office. Anne Herbert waved and hailed him from her horse. The little retinue halted as Lord Parr walked slowly over to them. He was leaning on a stick today. His nephew and niece greeted him and they exchanged a few words; I took the opportunity to open my satchel and take out my robe bearing the Queen’s badge. Barak whistled quietly. ‘So you’re sworn to her household now?’

‘Only while this investigation lasts.’

Lord Parr left his relatives, who rode on to the inner courtyard, and approached us.

‘He doesn’t look too well,’ Barak whispered.

‘No. He’s near seventy and feeling the strain of the job, I think.’

‘All over this stolen whatever-it-is,’ Barak replied sceptically. I did not answer. We bowed deeply to Lord Parr.

‘Serjeant Shardlake. You are on time,’ he said approvingly. ‘And this must be Goodman Barak, who knows about keys and locks.’

‘I will assist in any way I can, my Lord.’ Barak knew when to be deferential.

‘Good. The chest is inside. I had it brought across, saying it needed repair. But first, Master Shardlake, a word in confidence.’ He put his arm around my shoulder and led me a little away, leaving Barak looking put out.

‘I heard from William Cecil what happened to the apprentice boy.’ Lord Parr stroked his white beard, looking grave.

‘I thought Cecil might be here today.’

Lord Parr shook his head. ‘The fewer people seen to be making enquiries the better. Officially I am here to dine with my niece and nephew. So, what do you make of the apprentice’s death?’

I told him about my reflections in the garden. ‘Greening, Elias and the other three all had reason to fear danger. But I do not know whether any of them, other than Greening, had any connection with the
Lamentation
. I wonder, my Lord, whether Mistress Askew might have had any contact with the Queen, could have had knowledge of her book; whether she might not in fact have been tortured to try and find those things out.’

He shook his head. ‘The Queen and Anne Askew never met. Mistress Askew had contacts on the fringes of the court, yes, and would have loved to preach at the Queen, but my niece and I were too careful to permit that. I made sure Anne Askew never came near her household.’

‘Yet she must have been tortured for some reason. By the way, the news of that must have been leaked by someone inside the Tower. Is there any chance of finding out who that could have been?’

Lord Parr considered. ‘When it became obvious at the burning that the street gossip about Askew’s torture was true, I thought there would be a hue and cry in the Tower to find who set those rumours. Someone there, as you say, must have talked. But I have heard nothing.’ He furrowed his brow. ‘The Constable of the Tower, Sir Edmund Walsingham, was my predecessor as Queen’s Chancellor and is a friend. I shall make enquiries. In the meantime I want you to come to the palace tomorrow to question the guard who was on duty the night the manuscript was stolen and who Mary Odell said behaved oddly. He comes back on duty in the morning.’

‘Thank you, my Lord. And those three runaways: Curdy, McKendrick and the Dutchman. It is essential to interview them. I wonder whether they may even have taken the Queen’s book in connection with some hare-brained scheme of their own. Perhaps even fallen out over it, so that one killed Greening and made off with the book.’

Lord Parr’s face set hard. ‘Then we are dealing with wild fools rather than an enemy at court.’ He shook his head. ‘But how could such people get hold of the book in the first place?’

‘I do not know.’

‘But nevertheless they should be found.’

‘Yes.’ I added, ‘I was thinking about Okedene the printer, whether they might come after him now.’

‘He has already told us what he knows.’

‘Even so, his safety – ’

Lord Parr looked irritable. ‘I do not have a limitless supply of people I can employ on this matter; and none I would completely trust, apart from Cecil. I have no network of spies like your old Master Cromwell, or Secretary Paget,’ he added caustically. ‘I have asked Cecil to keep his ears and eyes open, which he will do. And I can arrange for him to bribe someone at the customs house. Cecil suggested that, to see whether anyone resembling these three men books passage on a ship. Perhaps he can bribe one of the dockers to keep a watch.’

I remembered Hugh’s letter. ‘Many radicals are going abroad these days,’ I said.

Lord Parr grunted. ‘And provided they are just little fish, the authorities wink at it. Glad to be rid of them.’

‘Then they may already be gone. But if they are seen, would it be possible to detain them? Perhaps on suspicion of involvement in the theft of a missing jewel?’

‘Yes, that may be a good idea. I will talk to Cecil.’ Lord Parr raised a monitory finger. ‘But remember, Master Shardlake, my powers are limited. And the Queen still has to watch every step.’ He sighed deeply. ‘For myself, I wish I were back in the country.’ He shook his head. ‘Nearly a fortnight since the
Lamentation
disappeared, and not a whisper of it.’

‘And two men murdered.’

‘I am hardly likely to forget. And I have still heard nothing about this man with half an ear sliced off, in the employ of someone at court.’ All at once, beneath his finery, I saw a puzzled, frightened old man. ‘We are in the midst of a deadly business. Surely the two attacks on Greening’s premises must be connected. Yet the
Lamentation
had not yet been stolen when the first attack took place. Pox on it!’ He spoke querulously, banging his stick on the cobbles. Then he collected himself, turned and looked at Barak. ‘Will he be acting as your right-hand man in this?’

‘No, my Lord. I’m sorry, but I fear his family commitments—’

Lord Parr grunted impatiently. ‘Too much softness is not a good thing with those who work for you. It gets in the way of business. However, I am arranging for some money to be sent to the apprentice’s mother when his body is taken away. Together with advice to leave London.’

‘Thank you, my Lord.’

Another grunt. ‘I would be in trouble with her majesty if I did not help the woman. And she is safer off the scene. Have you brought the piece of embroidery your boy found?’

‘In my satchel.’

‘Good. You will be taken to the embroiderer after seeing Master Barwic, the carpenter and locksmith. You can also tell the embroiderer the story of the stolen jewel. His name is Hal Gullym.’

‘Has he been with the Queen long?’

‘He is not an old retainer like Barwic, the cofferer. He was employed at court three years ago, when the Queen’s household was set up. Like everyone at Baynard’s Castle he is part of the
domus providenciae
, a servant, a craftsman. And he has a strong motive for loyalty and obedience. Working for the court takes you to the top of your profession. Every guildsman in London longs to work here.’ He spoke patronizingly, I thought, an aristocrat talking dismissively of men who worked with their hands. ‘So Hal Gullym will be happy to assist. Now – ’ From his robes Lord Parr produced the Queen’s key, still on its gold chain, and gave it to me. ‘Handle that with great care.’

‘I will.’

‘The guard with a fair beard you see over at that door has been told you are coming to investigate a jewel theft; he will guide you, and wait while you examine the chest. Give the key to him afterwards to return to me; he can be trusted. Then he will take you to Barwic and then Gullym. If you find anything important, send word to Whitehall. Otherwise, attend me there at ten tomorrow morning.’ Lord Parr turned and called to Barak. ‘Over here, sirrah, your master has instructions.’ Then he hobbled away to the inner courtyard to join the members of his family.

T
HE INTERIOR OF THE BUILDING
into which the guard led us was nothing like Whitehall, for all the fine tapestries adorning the walls. This part of Baynard’s Castle was a clothing enterprise; embroiderers and dressmakers working at tables in the well-lit hall. The shimmer of silk was everywhere, the air rich with delightful perfumes from the garments. I thought of what the Queen had said, how the richest of these clothes had passed from Queen to Queen.

Barak shook his head at it all. ‘All these people are working on the clothes of the Queen’s household?’

‘It has a staff of hundreds. Clothes, bedlinen, decorations, all have to be of the finest quality and kept in good repair.’ I nodded to the guard, and with a bow he led us over to one of the many side doors. We were taken down a corridor to a large room where several clothes presses stood, bodices and skirts kept flat beneath them. The Queen’s chest stood on a table; I recognized the distinctive red-and-gold fabric covering its top. It was oak, with strong iron brackets at each corner. Barak walked round it, felt the wood, looked at the lock, then lifted the lid and peered inside. It was a bare wooden box, empty except for the tills in the side where small valuables were kept.

‘Good strong piece. You’d need an axe to break in. The chest is old, but the lock’s new.’ He leaned in and thumped the sides and bottom. ‘No hidden compartments.’

‘It is an old family heirloom.’

He looked at me sharply. ‘Of the Queen’s?’

‘Yes. She had a new lock fitted in the spring, the other one was – old.’

He bent and peered closely at the lock, inside and out. Then he said, ‘I’d better see the key. I saw Lord Parr give it to you.’

‘Don’t miss much, do you?’

‘Wouldn’t still be here if I did.’

I handed him the key. I wished he had not asked about the Queen. But if I limited his involvement to the chest, surely he would be safe. He studied the key’s complicated teeth closely, then inserted it in the lock, opening and shutting the chest twice, very carefully. Finally he took a thin metal instrument from his purse and inserted it in the lock, twisting it to and fro, bending close to listen to the sounds it made. Finally he stood up.

‘I’m not the greatest expert in England,’ Barak said, ‘but I would swear this lock has only ever been opened with a key. If someone had tried to break in using an instrument like mine, I doubt they’d have succeeded – the lock’s stronger than it looks – and I’d expect marks, scratches.’

‘The Queen says she kept this key always round her neck. So no one would have had the chance to make an impression in wax to construct another. I think there must be another key.’

‘And the only person who could have made that is the locksmith, isn’t it?’ Barak said, raising his eyebrows.

‘So it seems.’

He rubbed his hands, his old enthusiasm for the chase clearly visible. ‘Well, let’s go and see him.’ He smiled at the guard, who looked back at us impassively.

T
HE CARPENTER
’
S WORKSHOP
was at the rear of the hall, a large, well-equipped room smelling of resin and sawdust. A short, powerfully built man with regular features only half-visible through a luxurious growth of reddish hair and beard was sawing a plank, while his young apprentice – like his master, wearing a white apron emblazoned with the Queen’s badge – was planing another piece of wood at an adjacent table. They stopped working and bowed as we entered. At the back of the workshop I noticed a set of locksmith’s tools on a bench.

‘Master Barwic?’ I asked.

‘I am.’ He looked a little apprehensive, I thought, at the sight of my lawyer’s robe with its own Queen’s badge. But then he would know of the theft, and that he might be under suspicion.

‘I am Matthew Shardlake, Serjeant at Law. I am enquiring for Lord Parr into the loss of a jewel belonging to the Queen, which she values greatly.’ I turned to the apprentice, who was small and thin, a complete contrast to poor Elias. ‘Does this boy help you with lock-making?’

‘No, sir.’ He gave the boy an unfavourable look. ‘I have enough trouble training him up on the carpentry side.’

I looked at the lad. ‘You may leave us.’ Barwic stood, hands on the table, frowning a little as the boy scurried from the room. ‘I heard of the jewel’s loss, sir. I think someone must have stolen the key.’

I shook my head. ‘Impossible. The Queen wore the key round her neck at all times.’ I saw his eyes widen; he had not known that. ‘Come,’ I said. ‘I would like you to see the chest.’