Lamentation Read online

‘Who made the new lock?’ I asked. ‘They could have made another key.’

  Lord Parr shook his head. ‘You are right, it is an obvious point. But the Queen’s own coffer-maker constructed this lock, as well as all the other new locks. He is well trusted. He has been the locksmith to successive Queens for twelve years, and you do not keep a man in such a post if he is not trustworthy.’

  ‘Have you questioned him?’

  ‘Not yet. Again, I thought it best to leave that to you. But I do not consider him a likely suspect.’

  ‘Nonetheless, he is an obvious one.’

  ‘He works down at Baynard’s Castle. I thought perhaps on Monday you might go down there and question him. And talk to the embroiderer about that sleeve. Of course, they will not be there tomorrow, it being Sunday. That is a nuisance, but it will allow you a day of rest, and reflection.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I was grateful for the old man’s consideration. But then he continued, ‘What we really need is an expert on locks. Someone from outside the palace.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Your assistant Jack Barak is known to have experience in such matters. From the days when he was employed by Lord Cromwell.’

  I drew a deep breath. So Lord Parr had been making enquiries about Barak. My assistant’s experience in such matters had indeed come in useful over the years, and yet – ‘I would rather not involve him,’ I said quietly.

  ‘It would help the Queen,’ Lord Parr pressed. ‘Barak need not know what this is about – in fact must not know. We will keep to the story of the jewel. But now the chest is empty I can send it down to Baynard’s Castle, and he can look at it when you are there on Monday.’

  ‘He would not claim to be a great expert – ’

  Lord Parr looked at me hard. ‘He knows locks. And has experience of how the royal household works, the underside of it at least.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘I will speak to him tomorrow, see what he says – ’

  ‘Good.’ Lord Parr spoke brusquely. ‘Be at Baynard’s Castle at nine on Monday. You can inspect the lock, speak to the cofferer and the embroiderer. I will arrange for William Cecil to be there, too; he can tell you what news he has of these religious makebates.’ He rubbed his hands. ‘We make a little progress.’

  ‘And yet,’ I said. ‘Whoever has the book could still make it public at any moment.’

  ‘I know that,’ he answered testily. ‘I have feared every day that someone will hand it to the King. Or that some papist printer is setting it into type in order to print it and distribute it in the streets. And it is not a long book, by now many copies could have been printed.’ He shook his head. ‘Yet day after day passes, and nothing happens. Someone is keeping it hidden. Why?’ He looked suddenly old and tired. He stood up, his knees creaking. ‘Tonight’s page will be arriving soon, we should go. Take a good day of rest tomorrow, Master Shardlake. We still have much to do.’

  Chapter Twelve

  THE LAWYERS AND THEIR wives progressed out of Lincoln’s Inn chapel, slowly and soberly as always after service; the men in black robes and caps, the women in their best summer silks. I stepped into the July sunshine, fresher that morning for a thunderstorm that had broken in the night, waking me from an uneasy sleep. Some rain would help the crops. And now I had to keep my promise to visit Stephen Bealknap. As I walked down the side of the chapel, Treasurer Rowland came over to me, a hard smile on his narrow face.

  ‘Good morrow, Serjeant Shardlake,’ he said cheerfully. ‘A fine service.’

  ‘Yes, Master Treasurer. Yes, indeed.’

  In fact I had scarcely heard any of it, even though tomorrow would be the anniversary of the sinking of the Mary Rose. I should have been praying for the souls of my friends and the hundreds of others who had died, although I was no longer sure there existed a God who would listen. But even on that of all Sundays, I could not get my mind away from thinking of the Lamentation.

  Rowland inclined his head to one side like an inquisitive crow. ‘I thought you looked a little strained during service. I hope it was not the effect of attending the burnings.’

  ‘I have many matters on just now,’ I answered brusquely.

  ‘Well, the Inn notes with gratitude your representing us on Friday. And you may be called upon to represent us again next month, at a further public occasion.’

  ‘Indeed,’ I answered slowly, apprehensively.

  ‘A celebration, though, not an execution.’ Rowland smiled thinly. ‘It is confidential still. But this will be a marvellous thing to see.’ He nodded, bowed briefly, and was gone. I looked after him. Next month. Just now I could think no further ahead than tomorrow. I put his words from my mind.

  I WALKED SLOWLY on across the courtyard, ruminating. For all that I had found some leads yesterday, they were but threads in a great tangled skein. Why had the man with the damaged ear tried to break into poor Greening’s premises before the Queen’s book was stolen? How had someone managed to get into the coffer without leaving any marks, when the only key was around the Queen’s neck? Could the locksmith have made a second key? And I wondered who this Jurony Bertano was, of whom Elias the apprentice was so terrified. The name sounded Spanish or Italian; I wondered if I dared ask Guy.

  I almost tripped over a cobble which had become detached from its setting, and kicked it angrily away. I asked myself if I had done right to involve myself in a matter which could easily turn deadly. Images chased each other through my head: the weeping page, Garet Lynley, talking of the man with the slashed ear who would recruit him for a spy; Jane Fool, yanking at her duck’s leash; Mary Tudor’s severe face. I knew that if the Lamentation appeared in public I myself could be in danger, as would the Queen and Lord Parr. And that danger would extend to those who worked with me, like Nicholas: I had seen him standing on the far side of the chapel with the other clerks, a head taller than most of them, looking a little the worse for wear as he often did on Sundays.

  The best protection I could give those who worked for me was to make sure they knew as little as possible of the true facts. But an order from Lord Parr was not to be denied. And so, before church that morning, I had gone round to Jack and Tamasin’s house.

  When I arrived at their house Jane Marris let me in, then went up to wake Barak and Tamasin from a late morning in bed. I had to sit uncomfortably in the parlour, listening as they clumped about getting dressed overhead, murmuring irritably. Jane brought George down. He was grizzling, and gave me a sad, tear-stained look. She took him to the kitchen, where I heard her starting to prepare breakfast.

  Eventually Barak and Tamasin came down. I stood. ‘I am sorry to disturb you so early.’

  Tamasin smiled. ‘It was time we were up. Will you have breakfast with us?’

  ‘Thank you, I have eaten. How do you fare, Tamasin?’

  ‘The sickness seems to have ended, praise be.’

  ‘Good. I will not stay, I must get back to Lincoln’s Inn, to church.’

  ‘We don’t bother any more than we have to,’ Barak said. I knew both of them had had enough of religion for a lifetime.

  ‘It’s soon noticed if I stay away from the chapel too long,’ I said. ‘Besides, I have promised to see Bealknap.’

  ‘You should leave him to rot, after all the harm he’s done you,’ Barak said. ‘You’re too soft.’

  Tamasin nodded agreement. ‘He is the worst of men.’

  ‘Well, I confess I am curious to see what he has to say.’

  ‘Curiosity killed the cat, sir,’ Tamasin pressed.

  I smiled sadly. ‘Cats have nine lives, and perhaps mine are not all used yet. Jack, I wonder if I might have a quick word with you. It concerns – a work matter.’

  Barak and Tamasin looked at each other knowingly. Perhaps they, like Rowland, could see the strain on my face. Tamasin said, ‘I must see to Georgie. He is teething. He shall have a chicken bone to suck.’

  Barak looked at me shrewdly as she left us. ‘Young Nicholas was very subdued yesterday afternoon. He wouldn’t say where you�
�d been, said you’d instructed him not to. I got the impression you’d told him off. Not that he doesn’t need it sometimes.’

  ‘I am sorry to have to leave so much to you.’

  ‘We’ll be all right for a few days. I’ve got Nicholas working hard. As I said, he seems quiet. Not his usual boisterous self.’ Barak raised an eyebrow. He had guessed something serious was afoot.

  I took a deep breath. ‘Jack, I am afraid I have got myself involved in a piece of – delicate business. For Lord Parr, the Queen’s Chamberlain.’

  He frowned, then spoke with angry puzzlement. ‘What is it that keeps drawing you back there? With all the rumours there have been about the Queen these last months, surely you should stay clear.’

  ‘Too late now. The matter concerns a stolen jewel.’ There, the lie was told.

  Barak was silent a moment, then spoke quietly. ‘You want my help? In times gone by, yes; but – ’, he nodded at the doorway. Yes, I thought. Tamasin, George, the new baby.

  I bit my lip. ‘There is one small aspect where your expertise might be of help. I did not suggest it, the idea came from Lord Parr. I am sorry.’

  ‘I still have a reputation in certain quarters?’ His voice sounded surprised, but I detected some pleasure in it, too.

  ‘So it seems. There is a chest at Whitehall Palace from which a valuable ring was stolen. Yet there is only one key, which the owner wore round her neck constantly, and there is no sign of forced entry.’

  ‘You’ve seen this chest?’

  ‘Yes. I spent much of yesterday at Whitehall Palace.’

  ‘Whose is it?’ he asked bluntly. ‘The Queen’s?’

  ‘I must not say. It is being taken to the Queen’s Wardrobe at Baynard’s Castle for us to examine at nine tomorrow. Could you be there to look at it for me, see what you think?’

  He gave me a long, hard stare. ‘And that’s all that is wanted of me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘For myself, I wouldn’t mind. But if Tamasin thought for a second that I was putting myself in peril again, she – ’ he shook his head – ‘she’d be furious. And she’d be right.’ He sighed. ‘But if it’s an order from the Queen’s Chamberlain – ’

  ‘It is. And I promise, I will keep you from further involvement.’

  ‘I sensed trouble from your face when I came downstairs. So did Tamasin. You spoke of a cat having nine lives. Well, you must be on number nine by now. So must I, come to that.’

  ‘I am bounden to the Queen.’

  ‘All over a stolen jewel?’ He gave me a sidelong look. ‘If you say so. Anyway, I’ll come. I won’t tell Tamasin, though I don’t like misleading her.’

  ‘No, this must be kept confidential.’

  He nodded, then looked at me hard again. ‘But remember. Only nine lives.’

  LIES, LIES, I thought, as I approached Bealknap’s chambers, which stood more or less opposite to mine. Then I heard a voice behind me, calling my name. I turned round irritably; what now? To my surprise, I saw Philip Coleswyn, the lawyer acting for Isabel Slanning’s brother, whom I had seen at the burning. I doffed my cap. ‘Brother Coleswyn, God give you good morrow. You have not been at the Gray’s Inn service?’

  ‘I attend my local church,’ he said a little stiffly. I thought, a church with a radically inclined vicar, no doubt. ‘I came here after service, because I wished to speak with you.’

  ‘Very well. Shall we go to my chambers? They are just at hand. Though I have another appointment . . .’ I glanced up at Bealknap’s shuttered window. ‘I cannot tarry long.’

  ‘It will take but little time.’

  We walked to my chambers. I unlocked the door and led Coleswyn into my room, threw off my robe and invited him to sit. He was silent a moment, looking at me with his clear blue eyes. Then he said hesitantly, ‘Occasionally, Serjeant Shardlake, a case comes up where it can be – useful – to talk to the other side’s representative, in confidence.’ He hesitated. ‘If I think that, like me, the representative would wish to avoid an unnecessary degree of conflict.’

  ‘The Cotterstoke Will case?’

  ‘Yes. When we met two days ago, Serjeant Shardlake, at that dreadful event at Smithfield – ’ he blinked a couple of times – ‘I thought, here is a man of probity.’

  ‘I thank you, Brother. But strictly, probity means we must each represent our clients’ interests, however troublesome they are. Their wishes must come first.’

  ‘I know. But is it not a Christian thing to try to resolve conflicts where one can?’

  ‘If it is possible.’ I remembered Guy’s assertion that some conflicts could never be resolved. I remembered, too, what Isabel had said: If you knew the terrible things my brother has done. ‘I will hear what you have to say.’ I added, ‘And I promise it will go no further.’

  ‘Thank you. We have the inspection of the wall painting on Wednesday. Your expert, of course, will be briefed to look for any ways in which the painting may be removed without damaging it.’

  ‘While yours is likely to say it cannot be brought down.’

  ‘My expert is an honest man,’ Coleswyn said.

  ‘So is mine.’

  ‘I do not doubt it.’

  I smiled. ‘Yet both men are working to a brief, for a fee. I fear stalemate is the most likely outcome.’

  ‘Yes,’ Coleswyn agreed. ‘It is in the nature of the system.’ He sighed. ‘And so the experts’ charges will be added to the bills, and both the debt and the paperwork will grow.’

  I replied wryly, ‘What is the saying? “Long writing and small matter.”’

  ‘Yes.’ And then Coleswyn laughed. I do not think he meant to; it was a release of tension. It made his hitherto serious face look quite boyish. I found myself laughing, too. We both stopped at the same moment, looking guiltily at each other.

  ‘We cannot prevent them from fighting,’ I said. ‘Though I would happily be rid of this. Tell me, in confidence, does Master Cotterstoke hate Mistress Slanning as much as she does him?’

  He nodded sadly. ‘Edward Cotterstoke is never happier than when telling me what a wicked, vicious and evil-minded woman his sister is. Oh, and he also says she is a traitor, a popish Catholic who observes the old ceremonies in secret. He was introduced to me through my church congregation; I have just come from him.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘My appeals to his Christian charity go unheard.’ I nodded sympathetically.

  ‘And Mrs Slanning tells me her brother is a heretic whom she would happily see burned.’ I paused, then added, ‘And, I fear, you also.’

  He frowned. ‘They should both be careful with their tongues in these times.’ He took a deep breath, then looked at me. ‘Edward Cotterstoke will listen to no reason. I know his wife and children have tried to dissuade him from this battle with his sister. Without success.’

  ‘Isabel is a childless widow, but even if she had family, I doubt they could move her either. Tell me, Master Coleswyn, have you any idea why they hate each other so?’

  He stroked his short beard. ‘No. Edward will only say that his sister has been a bad creature since they were children. And yet, though he enjoys abusing her – and we have both seen them standing in court glaring mightily at each other – I have a sense Edward is afraid of her in some way.’ He paused. ‘You look surprised, Brother.’

  ‘Only because Mistress Slanning said some words that made me think she was afraid of him. How strange.’ Though it was strictly a breach of confidence, I was sure of Coleswyn’s honesty now, and I decided to tell him what Isabel had said about her brother – the things he has done.

  When I had finished he shook his head. ‘I cannot think what that might mean. Master Cotterstoke is very much the respectable citizen.’

  ‘As is Mistress Slanning. Has it struck you how the wording of the old woman’s Will was very odd? The specific reference to wall paintings.’

  ‘Yes. It is almost as though old Mistress Cotterstoke wished to provoke a quarrel between her children, laugh at them from beyo
nd the grave.’ He shivered.

  ‘She must have known they loathed each other. Perhaps there were not two members of this family hating each other because of Heaven knows what old grievance, but three. The mother, too,’ I finished sadly.

  ‘Possibly. But I know nothing of their early days. Only that their father, a Master Johnson, who can be seen in the picture, died not long after it was painted. And that their mother soon remarried, to Cotterstoke, who took over her late husband’s business. But he, too, soon died, leaving everything to his widow. There were no other children, and Edward and Isabel took their stepfather’s name.’

  ‘That tallies with what I know,’ I answered. ‘It does not sound as though there was an evil stepfather in the picture.’

  ‘No.’ Coleswyn stroked his beard again. ‘If we could find what has brought them to this – ’

  ‘But how? Have you noticed that, though the two of them constantly abuse each other, it is always in general terms; nothing is ever specified.’

  ‘Yes.’ Coleswyn nodded slowly.

  I heard the Inn clock strike twelve. ‘Brother, I must go to my appointment. But I am glad you came. Let us each consider what we may do.’ I stood and offered a hand. ‘Thank you for speaking to me. So many lawyers would happily drive this witless matter on to Chancery, for the profits.’ Bealknap would have, I thought, except that he would never have had the patience to deal with Isabel’s carping and sniping. He had ever preferred some crooked land deal where everything was done in the dark.

  Coleswyn smiled shyly. ‘And to seal our little agreement, perhaps you would do me the honour of dining with my wife and me. Perhaps on Wednesday, after the inspection.’

  The rules prevented barristers on opposing sides from discussing their clients behind their backs, but dining together was not prohibited. Otherwise, what would have become of our social lives? ‘I would be glad to. Though I have a separate matter that is taking much time just now. May I take the liberty of agreeing subject to the possibility I may have to cancel at the last moment?’