‘Calm down, Joseph, for mercy’s sake,’ I said. I looked at Elizabeth. She was sobbing now, a low miserable keening. ‘Is it a wonder she has been driven to think as she does?’
Joseph looked at me aghast. ‘You are not excusing—’
‘Elizabeth.’ She looked up at me again. The outburst had brought some colour to her white cheeks. ‘Elizabeth, whatever you think God has done, surely Barak is right? It is your uncle Edwin’s family you should be blaming, for it was they that did the evil. And if one of them killed Ralph, you should tell. They should be brought to justice.’
‘They will not be. I am damned, I tell you.’ Her voice rose again. ‘Let God have his way, let me be killed. Let his work be done!’ She lay back, exhausted.
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Then I shall have to confront the family myself.’
She did not reply. She closed her eyes. She seemed to have retreated back into that dark place where she lived now.
After a few moments I rose from the stool and turned to the others. ‘Come,’ I said. I opened the door and called for the turnkey, who had retreated to the bottom of the steps. We left the cell, Joseph stumbling and almost falling.
Outside the gaol he shivered, despite the heat. ‘I thought it could get no worse,’ he said quietly.
‘It was enough to freeze the blood, I know. But I beg you, Joseph, remember Elizabeth’s mind is distracted, remember what she has been through.’
He looked at me and I saw stark terror in his face. ‘So you believe her,’ he whispered. ‘My brother has spawned a family of devils.’
‘I will find who did this,’ I said.
He shook his head, his mind in utter turmoil. We took him to a tavern and sat with him half an hour while he calmed himself. By then it was time to go to Cromwell.
‘Come, Joseph, we will ride with you as far as your lodgings,’ I said. ‘Then we must catch a boat. We have business at Whitehall. Perhaps we may leave our horses at your lodgings?’
He looked up with a flaint flicker of interest. ‘This other matter you are engaged on, it is a matter of state?’
‘Yes, it is. But I will have an answer from your family, Joseph, I promise.’
‘He will,’ Barak added encouragingly.
Joseph looked at me.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘No. I will go alone, or with Barak here.’
‘For God’s sake,’ he said, his eyes full of fear, ‘be careful.’
Chapter Forty
THE THAMES WAS BUSY and we had difficulty finding a wherry at the river stairs. Barak cursed roundly, fearing we would be late. At length a boat arrived and we sailed upriver, a strong southerly wind plucking at my robe and driving the craft briskly through the water. I thought of Elizabeth, how terrible her state of mind must be, her whole being dominated by her hatred of the savage God before whom she meant to martyr herself. I shuddered at the darkness that overlay her mind, even as, I felt, I understood it. I glanced at Barak: he sat hunched and gloomy in the stern of the boat. I thought perhaps he understood too. But we but dared not talk of such things before the boatman.
At last the wherry bumped into Westminster steps. Barak jumped out and we scrambled up the stairs, half-running across to the Privy Gallery. We stopped a moment to catch our breath under the mural, the king frowning down on us, then walked through to Cromwell’s office.
Grey was at his desk, working on a bill to be presented to parliament, running a rule down the long sheet of parchment. He looked up sharply. ‘Master Shardlake, I was beginning to fear you would be late. The earl is - is not in a patient mood today.’
‘I am sorry, the river was busy—’
‘I’ll take you in.’ He got up with a sigh. ‘My master is sending so many bills to this parliament that his work lacks its usual level of care.’ He shook his head. ‘He is very preoccupied.’ He knocked on Cromwell’s door, and ushered us inside.
The earl was standing by the window, looking out at Whitehall. He turned a dark, frowning face towards us. He was dressed magnificently today in a robe of red silk such as the rules allowed only barons to wear, edged with sable fur. The star of the Order of the Garter hung from a colourful ribbon round his neck.
‘Well,’ he said grimly, ‘you’ve come.’ He strode to his desk, which was heaped high with papers. He must recently have thrown down his quill in anger, for,it lay in the middle in a pool of ink. He sat down heavily in his chair and stared at us, his face set hard.
‘Well, Matthew, it seems you have sent me on a fool’s errand.’
‘My lord?’
‘Sir Richard Rich,’ he snapped. ‘I called him in here on Saturday night.’ He linked his hands together and banged them down on the table. ‘The reason Rich has been making threatening remarks to you and the reason Bealknap thought he was safe from me have nothing to do with Greek Fire.’
‘Then what?’
‘You have been acting for the Common Council, have you not, on a case involving whether a monastic property may be exempt from the City statutes?’