Dark Fire (64 page)

I did not answer, surprised by the speed of her capitulation. I looked at the steward.

His face was tense, anxious.

‘Get some wine, David,’ the old woman said quietly.

Needler went over to the buffet, then turned to his mistress. ‘The family had the last of it yesterday, madam. Shall I fetch another bottle from the cellar?’

‘Ay, do that. I will be safe enough, I think.’

‘Quite safe,’ I replied grimly. Needler left the room. The old woman worked her hands in her lap, playing with her gnarled, beringed fingers. ‘Elizabeth has spoken,
then?’

‘Reluctantly, yes. To us and to your son Joseph.’

She pursed her lips again. ‘My family has come far,’ she said quietly. ‘If Edwin had been like Joseph we would all still be country clods, working at that dreary farm. But
Edwin has brought us advancement, wealth, the chance for his children to mix with the highest in London. It has been a great consolation to me in my blindness. Now that Ralph is gone our hopes rest
on good marriages for Sabine and Avice. It is all we have left.’

‘Are they safe for a young man to marry? After what they have done?’

She shrugged. ‘They only need a strong lusty fellow to take them in hand.’

Needler returned with a bottle of red wine and three silver goblets on a tray. He laid it on a table and gave a goblet to the old woman, then passed the others to Barak and me. His face was
expressionless as he returned to his place behind his mistress’s chair. Why were they both so calm? I wondered. I took a sip of the wine. It was sweet and sickly. Barak took a large
draught.

‘The truth, then,’ Goodwife Wentworth said decisively.

‘Yes, madam, the truth. If not here, then in court tomorrow morning.’

‘Elizabeth will speak for herself?’

‘Whether she does or not I shall bring forward the evidence I have. This is your chance to tell me the truth, madam. Perhaps – ’ I paused, taking another sip –
‘something may be done.’

‘Where is Joseph?’ she asked.

‘At his lodgings.’

She nodded then paused, gathering her thoughts. ‘David saw it all,’ she said. ‘From this window. He was cleaning the tapestries; it is a task I trust only to him.’ She
hesitated a moment, as though listening for something, then continued.

‘Elizabeth was in the garden alone that afternoon, sulking as usual. She would have done better to stand up for herself, the way she used to cower in corners like a pissing woman only
encouraged the children to be cruel. And children are cruel, are they not? As a hunchback you will know that.’

‘Yes they are. Which is why adults must correct them. And they were three against one, were they not?’

‘Elizabeth was almost an adult. A great girl of eighteen afraid of a twelve-year-old boy.’ She gave a snort of contempt. ‘The day Ralph died he had gone down to the garden, to
Elizabeth. He sat on the edge of the well and spoke to her. You could not hear what he said, could you, David, through the window?’

‘No, madam.’ He looked at us and shrugged. ‘He was probably tormenting her, perhaps talking about that cat of hers he killed. She just sat under the tree and took it as usual,
her head bowed.’

The old woman nodded. ‘If she’d any courage she would have got up and boxed his ears.’

‘The favoured son?’ I said. ‘Sir Edwin would not have been pleased.’

Goodwife Wentworth inclined her head. ‘Perhaps not.’

‘Did you know your grandson had killed a little boy, madam?’ I asked. The steward laid a warning hand on her arm, but she shrugged it off.

‘We heard the boy had disappeared. I wondered. I knew the things Ralph did and I was waiting for a chance to speak to him about it – I feared he was placing himself in danger. My son
Edwin knows nothing,’ she added. ‘He believed Ralph could do no wrong and I thought it better he kept that belief. He has enough to worry about with his business.’

‘You did not fear Ralph was growing into a monster?’ I coughed. My throat was suddenly dry.

She shrugged. ‘If Ralph did not grow out of his cruelties he would have learned to conceal them. People do.’ She sighed. ‘You go on, David, this is tiring me. Tell them what
happened next.’

The steward looked at us intently. ‘After a while Sabine and Avice came outside and sat with Ralph on the edge of the well. They joined in baiting Elizabeth, I think. But then Ralph said
something to Sabine. Something she did not like.’

The steward reddened.

‘He referred perhaps to her feelings for you?’ I asked.

The old woman raised a hand. ‘It’s all right, David. Sabine developed a girlish fancy for David. He did not encourage her: he is loyal, he has served my son and me for ten years. He
would do anything for us. Tell them what you saw next, David. From the window.’

‘Sabine grabbed at Ralph. He twisted away from her, fell backwards and then he was gone. Down the well.’

Goodwife Wentworth sighed. ‘Sabine says she did not mean to throw him in, she only lashed out in anger. I think at law that would be manslaughter, eh lawyer? Not murder?’

‘It would be for the jury to decide on the facts.’

‘Either way Sabine might hang, for all her status. We could try for a king’s pardon, but that would bankrupt us. Of course, if Elizabeth had not been there Sabine and Avice could
have said Ralph merely slipped, but Elizabeth saw everything. And she has no love for us.’ She spread her hands and smiled. ‘You see, that was our problem.’

‘So she had to be silenced. By being accused.’ My voice came out as a croak and speaking hurt my dry throat. I wondered whether I was sickening for something.

‘When I saw Ralph go down the well,’ Needler went on, ‘I ran downstairs to the garden. Sabine and Avice were screaming, howling. I looked down the well. I could just make out
Ralph’s body.’

‘Poor boy,’ the old woman whispered.

‘Elizabeth just sat there under the tree, gawping. Then, not knowing I had been looking from the window, Sabine pointed at Elizabeth and said, “She’s killed Ralph. She put him
in the well! We saw her!” Elizabeth just sat there, like a stone, saying nothing. Then Avice joined in, pointing at Elizabeth, accusing her.’

Goodwife Wentworth nodded. ‘Then I came down, I had heard the screaming. I found Sabine and Avice howling that Elizabeth had killed Ralph. Elizabeth would not answer when I spoke to her. I
thought at first that was what had really happened, I ordered Edwin fetched and he had the constable take Elizabeth away. It was only afterwards that David told me the truth. I questioned the girls
and they admitted all. They knew about the beggar boy; they have been very frightened, Master Shardlake, but they know how to control themselves as young ladies should. They will make fine
gentlewomen one day.’

‘They’ll make devilish monsters, like their brother,’ Barak said.

The old woman ignored him. ‘We waited a day, two days, to see if Elizabeth would tell her story, but she kept her silence. Joseph came and told us she was refusing to plead. So we decided,
if Elizabeth was prepared to go to her death, let her.’ She spoke calmly, as though of a business arrangement.

I coughed drily. ‘Well, madam, you have told us all. What do you expect to happen now?’

She said nothing, only smiled. I was aware my heart was pounding very fast. I could not understand why. I heard voices from the hall, then the closing of the front door.

‘Shit,’ Barak said. ‘My eyes. I’m seeing double.’

I looked at him. The pupils of his staring eyes were enlarged, enormous. I remembered Sabine’s eyes on the day of my first visit and that nightshade was extremely poisonous. I had seen its
effects before, at Scarnsea monastery.

‘They’ve poisoned us,’ I breathed.

‘It’s working quickly,’ the old woman said quietly. Needler crossed quickly to the door and locked it. He stood against it and looked at us, a grim set to his fleshy jaw.

‘The servants have all gone?’ Goodwife Wentworth asked.

‘I told them there’s nothing more to do this morning, to go out and enjoy the air while it’s fresh after the storm.’ He turned to me. ‘You thought you were unseen
that night you went down the well, but my mistress heard someone in the orchard. She told me to wait at a window and see what happened. I saw the pair of you sneak in, saw baldy there go down the
well.’

The old woman laughed, a brutal, ugly cackle. ‘The blind have wondrous hearing, Master Shardlake, After that we feared the constable would come for us. When nothing happened we realized
Elizabeth must still be refusing to plead.’

Barak tried to get to his feet but fell back, his eyes staring wildly. ‘I can’t see,’ he said. His head began to shake. Whatever this stuff was, he had drunk more of it than
me.

I tried to say something, but my voice would not come. I remembered standing by the nightshade bush at Scarnsea, Guy telling me about the poison. The only way to counteract it, if taken quickly
enough, was an emetic.

Needler returned to his place behind the beldame. ‘We knew you would come here,’ she continued. ‘It was all you could do.’ She smiled evilly as I took deep breaths,
trying to ease my pounding heart. ‘The well, is empty now, by the way, the carcasses in the river. It’s ready for you. Then we will deal with Joseph.’ Her voice was low, a
whisper, she was listening for us to fall on the floor. ‘An old countrywoman knows many poisonous plants and we have a large herb garden. They are weakening, David. Kill them now.’

The steward swallowed hard. His face grim, he drew a dagger and came round the chair slowly, deliberately.

And then I remembered the mustard, what Guy had said about its emetic properties the day I first told him about the Wentworth case. Knowing it was my last chance, I hauled myself to my feet. I
was shaking from head to foot. Barak too managed with a herculean effort to rise unsteadily and fumble for his sword. He seemed unable to focus. Needler, looking between us, appeared suddenly
uncertain. I reached out for the mustard pot and, before Needler’s astonished eyes, grasped it and thrust a big spoonful into my mouth. I swallowed, my throat on fire.

The old woman called out, a note of fear in her voice. ‘What’s happened, David? What have they done?’

Barak made an uncertain lunge with his sword. He cut only air, but Needler retreated quickly behind the chair.

I felt my stomach turn, then leaned over and vomited its contents onto the floor with a horrible retching sound. ‘Jack!’ I cried. ‘Here, take this!’

He grabbed the pot and swallowed what was left. He gasped and leaned back against his chair, sword still raised at Needler. I put a hand on the back of my chair, my head spinning.

‘Stay up, sir!’ Barak shouted. ‘We must stay up!’

I took long, deep breaths. It was horribly frightening, knowing if we allowed ourselves to pass out now it could be the end of us. But my heartbeat was steadying a little. I pulled out my
dagger. The old woman stood too, trembling, hands stretched out before her. ‘David!’ she called in a shrill howl. ‘David! What is happening?’

Needler’s nerve broke. He stepped away from his mistress and ran to the door. Barak started to follow, but staggered. The old woman turned to the sound of Needler’s footsteps, her
hands waving helplessly. ‘David! David! Where are you? What’s happening?’

Needler unlocked the door and threw it open. He ran down the steps and out of the house just as Barak leaned forward and vomited as spectacularly as I had. He sank to his knees, gasping.

The old woman turned towards the noise, panicky now. ‘Where are you?’ she shouted. ‘David! David!’ She stumbled, lost her balance and fell with a cry. Her head struck the
wall and she collapsed to the floor with a moan.

I staggered to the open door of the parlour, down the stairs and through the front door which Needler had left open. I leaned on it for support and called ‘Help!’ in a cracked voice,
making heads turn along the crowded street. ‘Murder! Call the constable! Help!’ Then my legs seemed to disappear beneath me and I fell into blackness.

I
CAME TO WITH A START
, jerking away from a vile smell under my nose. I gasped and looked round in confusion.

I was back in the Wentworths’ parlour, but sitting in a chair now. A thickset man in a constable’s jerkin stood watching me. Beside me stood Guy, holding the bottle he had just
thrust under my nose. I stared around – the constable and Guy in his apothecary’s robe both looked completely out of place amid the luxurious domesticity of the room. Barak sat sprawled
in another chair, looking pale – but alive, the pupils of his eyes reduced to their normal size.

‘The old woman—’ I croaked.

‘It’s all right,’ Guy said. ‘She has been taken away. And her granddaughters. It was quick thinking to use the mustard to make you sick or you and Barak would both be
dead by now. You’ve been unconscious nearly an hour. I was worried.’

I took a deep breath, aware that I had a mighty headache. ‘It was you that told me about vomiting and poison.’

‘I remember. You always had the best memory I know.’

‘By Jesu.’ I managed a hoarse laugh. ‘I dread to think of the bill I will have for all you have done this last month.’

‘You can afford it. Can you move your arms and legs?’

‘Yes. I feel weak.’

‘That should pass soon.’ Guy reached to a bowl covered with a cloth on the table. He lifted the cloth and a sharp smell filled the room. ‘I want you to drink this now,’
he said. ‘It will act against any poisonous humours remaining in your system.’

I looked at it warily, but suffered him to take my head and tip the stuff gently into my mouth. It was bitter. ‘There,’ he said, ‘sit back now.’ I did so, gasping.

The door opened and Joseph came in, his face ashen. But he smiled when he saw I had come to. ‘Ah, sir, you are recovered. Thank God.’

I clasped Guy’s arm. ‘Did Needler get away?’ I asked.

‘Yes. There’s a hue and cry out for him.’

‘How did you get here?’

‘You called for the constable.’

‘Yes, I remember that. But nothing else till just now.’

‘The constable found you, Barak and the old woman all unconscious. But you came round for a moment and asked for me.’