Authors: C. J. Sansom
‘I don’t remember. Jesu, is my mind going?’
Guy laid a hand on my arm. ‘It will come back to you. But you and Barak are both weak. You must rest.’
The constable spoke up. ‘David Needler’s been taken, sir, that’s what I came to tell you. He tried to ride out through Cripplegate, but the gatekeeper took him. He didn’t
put up much of a struggle. He’s in Newgate now.’
Barak looked at me seriously. ‘Sabine and Avice have been taken there already with the old woman, though she hurt her head badly in the fall. The girls were hiding upstairs in their room;
the constables had to pull them screaming from under the beds. I told the magistrate everything when I came round. They scratched like cats when they realized the game was up, but they’ve
gone. Not to the Hole, though,’ he croaked bitterly. ‘The better quarters.’
I looked out of the window. The well was dimly visible in the dull late afternoon. ‘Jesu,’ I muttered. ‘If Needler and the old bitch had had their way, we’d be down there
too.’ I turned to Joseph. ‘I’m sorry. She is your mother—’
He shook his head. ‘Always it was Edwin she loved; she had naught but contempt for the rest of us.’
‘Barak,’ I said, ‘you must swear a statement, and the magistrate and constables. They must appear before Forbizer tomorrow . . .’ I tried to stand, but fell back
groggily. A thought struck me. ‘What has happened to Sir Edwin?’
‘He is in his room opposite,’ Joseph said quietly. ‘Poor Edwin, he’s been hard hit. His son dead, his mother and daughters taken—’
I took a deep breath. ‘Does Elizabeth know?’
‘Yes. She set to weeping when I told her.’ A ghost of a smile crossed his face. ‘But she held my hand when I left. I will look after her now, sir. But I had to come
here,’ he added simply. ‘My brother needs me.’
I looked at him. I saw clearly the reason I first took the horrible case on at all: it was for his goodness, such natural goodness and charity as few men have.
‘I should go to Edwin,’ he said.
The constable raised a hand. ‘The magistrate’s still with him, sir.’
Things kept floating into my mind. ‘Cromwell!’ I exclaimed. ‘It’s been hours, is there word from Grey?’
Barak nodded. ‘This arrived here a short while ago.’ He took a note with the earl’s seal from his pocket and handed it to me. I read, in Grey’s precise hand:
Lord
Cromwell has your message. He is seeing the king today and will contact you should you be needed. He thanks you mightily.
‘Then it’s done,’ I breathed. I leant back, relieved. ‘He sends us thanks too.’
Guy came over to me. He looked in my mouth and eyes, then did the same to Barak.
‘You’re both all right,’ he said. ‘But you should go home, sleep. You will be very tired and shaky for some days.’
‘I’ll not argue with you, sir,’ Barak said.
‘And now I ought to return to my shop. I have patients.’ He bowed to us and turned for the door, exotic-looking as ever in his long hooded robe, with his oak-brown face, his curly
grey-black hair.
‘Thank you, old friend,’ I said quietly.
He raised a hand and smiled, then went out.
‘Odd-looking fellow,’ the constable observed. ‘When I came here I thought it was him I had to arrest.’
I did not reply.
The door opened again and a tall, thin man I recognized as Magistrate Parsloe entered. He was normally full of cheerful self-importance, but today he looked sombre. He bowed, then turned to
Joseph. ‘Master Wentworth, I think perhaps you should go to your brother.’
Joseph stood eagerly. ‘I was going to, sir. Has he asked for me?’
Parsloe hesitated. ‘No, but he needs someone with him, I think.’ He looked at me. ‘Master Shardlake, I am glad to see you are recovered. It was quite a scene that met my eyes
when the constable called me here.’
‘I can imagine. You have questioned Sir Edwin?’
‘Yes. He says he knew nothing of his family’s doings. I believe him; he is a stricken man.’ Parsloe shook his head. ‘Strange, though, that the old woman should work so
closely with a mere steward.’
‘Needler was her eyes, she said so herself. She needed him, she was vulnerable in that way if in no other.’
‘We found this in the wine cellar.’ Parsloe passed a little glass phial to me. ‘Your apothecary friend says it is a very strong concentration of belladonna.’
I handed it back to him, suppressing a shudder.
‘Can you come to the Old Bailey tomorrow, sir?’ he asked. ‘Elizabeth Wentworth is up before Judge Forbizer. It would help if you could give evidence.’
‘I will. Do you think she will speak now?’
‘Yes.’
I looked wryly at Barak. ‘Now the facts are known, there will be no martyrdom for her, whether she wishes it or not.’ I turned to Joseph. ‘Can you be at court at ten tomorrow
as well? Then Elizabeth can be discharged into your care.’
He nodded. ‘Yes. And thank you, sir, thank you for everything.’
We followed him to the door. Opposite, we could see into a well-appointed bedroom. In a chair by the bed Sir Edwin sat still as a stone, his face white and puffy. Joseph knocked and went in. His
brother looked up with dull unseeing eyes. Joseph sat on the bed and reached for his hand, but Sir Edwin flinched away.
‘Come, Edwin,’ Joseph said gently. ‘I am here. I will help you if I can.’ He reached out again, and this time his brother let him take his hand.
‘Let us go, Barak,’ I said quietly, nudging him to the front door.
W
E WENT HOME
. Though I felt light-headed and kept having to pause I prepared a statement for Forbizer and had Barak, who was in little better case, do
the same. Reading his statement over, I was surprised at how neatly and fluently he wrote; the monks’ school had taught him well and no doubt he had needed writing for all the reports he must
have sent to Cromwell. Afterwards we ate and then, for a second night, went wearily up to bed to sleep like stones.
N
EXT MORNING
there was no further word from Cromwell. It was the tenth of June, the day of reckoning. As we breakfasted I looked out of the window. It
was still cloudy and a little misty. The demonstration before the king would have been today. Greek Fire would have made a more extraordinary spectacle than ever on such a grey, wet morning.
‘Time to go,’ Barak said. ‘Are you fit?’
‘Just about. A little trembling and dryness of the throat is all.’ I forced myself to my feet. ‘Come on. We don’t want to be late today of all days.’
At the Old Bailey everything was ready. Parsloe, the constable and three anxious-looking Wentworth servants were waiting in the outer hall; Parsloe had a collection of statements for me to look
over. Joseph stood next to him, still pale though more composed than yesterday. For him, this was indeed a Pyrrhic victory.
I took his arm. ‘Are you ready, Joseph?’
‘Ay. Edwin was unable to come, he is in a bad state.’
‘I understand. And he was not there yesterday, he has no direct evidence to give.’
‘I stayed with him last night. I think he will forgive me. I am all he has now.’
I nodded. ‘He could have no greater support.’
‘I may see if I can get him to come to the farm with me. I shall go back there with Elizabeth. It will be a familiar place for both of them, with some happy associations at
least.’
‘Yes. And it may be better to leave London. The pamphleteers will be busy again once this news is out, pox on their jeering cruelty.’ I turned to Parsloe. ‘Are we in open court
with the rest of the cases?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I have seen the judge. As it is simply a matter of Elizabeth’s discharge he will see us in his chambers when we are all here.’
I took a deep breath. ‘Then let’s get it over. There’s his clerk.’ I looked over to where Forbizer’s plump assistant was bustling about. I remembered the day he had
brought me the news of the judge’s change of mind, just before Barak had shouldered his way into my life.
Parsloe, Joseph and Barak accompanied me to the judge’s chambers. Forbizer sat, already swathed in his red robe, behind a desk stacked neatly with papers. He looked at us coldly, his eyes
lingering on Barak for a moment, then reached out and snapped his fingers.
‘The statements.’
I handed them to him. Forbizer read them though, his face expressionless, occasionally pausing to frown and check something. It was all a charade, I knew, he had already heard the story from
Parsloe and there was no alternative but to release Elizabeth now. At length he laid down the statements, straightening them so the edges were all in line, and grunted.
‘So she was innocent after all,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ I replied.
‘She should still have been pressed,’ he said coldly. ‘That was the correct sentence for a refusal to plead, that would have been justice.’ He stroked his grey beard
reflectively. ‘I have been considering whether to sentence her to some more time in the Hole for her contempt of court.’ He looked at Joseph, whom I saw pale. I could not suppress a
frown; this was sheer cruelty, revenge for the pressure Barak had put on him. Forbizer shrugged. ‘But I have a busy enough assize this morning without bringing her back into court. I will let
her go. At least until the rest of her family are tried – she will need to be a witness then.’
‘Thank you, your honour,’ I said quietly.
Forbizer drew a paper to him and I saw an order of release had already been drawn. He signed it, his lip curling over his beard again in that revolting gesture of contempt, then flicked it
across the table to me.
‘There you are, Brother Shardlake.’ I reached to take it but he placed two fingers on the edge. I looked into his eyes. They were cold and angry.
‘Do not cross me again, Brother,’ he said quietly, ‘or, whatever political connections you might have, I shall make your life a very hell.’ He lifted his fingers and I
took the order, rose and bowed. We filed silently out of the room.
Outside, Parsloe shook his head wonderingly. ‘You’d think he would be glad to see an injustice righted, a girl saved from a cruel death. But he’s an odd fellow.’
‘The arsehole didn’t like having his authority overruled,’ Barak said. He had sat down on a bench. He still looked weak and pale. I was glad to sit beside him.
‘How overruled?’ Parsloe frowned at us. ‘And what did he mean by political connections?’
‘Jesu knows,’ I said hastily. ‘Well, Master Parsloe, I am most grateful for your help. We must not keep you.’
The magistrate turned away. I gave Barak a look. ‘You nearly had me in trouble there. Parsloe’s an old gossip, if you’d told him you’d brought an order from Cromwell to
save Elizabeth, that story would be on a hundred pamphlets by tomorrow and Forbizer would be making my life hell as he promised. Though he’ll do his best to achieve that anyway if I ever come
before him again,’ I added gloomily.
‘Not my fault lawyers are all such gossips. Besides, I’m knackered. I should be in bed.’
‘But sir,’ Joseph asked, frowning, ‘what
did
he mean about political influence?’
I hesitated. But Joseph had a right to know, if anyone did. ‘Barak and I have been involved in a – a case for Lord Cromwell. It was very important, that was why I had so little time
to give Elizabeth. It was his influence made Forbizer grant Elizabeth that stay. But, please, you must tell no one.’
He nodded. ‘I will not, sir.’ He shook his head. ‘The earl. God bless him, God bless all the reforms he has brought.’
I handed him the order. ‘There, take that to Newgate and Elizabeth will be released. Would you like us to come with you?’
He smiled. ‘This is something I would rather do alone, sir. If you do not mind.’
‘I understand.’
Barak and I watched as he left the Bailey, the precious document held carefully in his hand.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘it’s all over. What do you want to do now? I must go to Lincoln’s Inn, to catch up on business.’ I studied him, realizing, now that the
parting of our ways was near, that for all his innumerable annoying habits I should miss him.
‘Might I come with you to Chancery Lane?’ he asked diffidently. ‘I won’t be able to sleep again, or settle to anything, until I hear from the earl.’