‘I need to speak to Sir Richard urgently. On Lord Cromwell’s business.’
Rich had seen me. A frown crossed his face for a moment, then he smiled sardonically and stepped towards me.
‘Well, Brother Shardlake again. God’s death, you follow me everywhere. I thought I had settled our business when I spoke to the earl.’
‘This is another matter, Sir Richard. Another matter of the earl’s I need to discuss with you.’
He looked at me curiously. ‘Well?’
‘May we go somewhere a little quieter?’
He gathered his robe around him. With a sign to his retainers to stay where they were, he waved an arm to indicate I should lead the way through the crowd. I led him across to the far wall, out of earshot of the preaching. Barak followed, keeping at a little distance.
‘Well?’ Rich asked again.
I took the list from my robe. ‘I need to know, Sir Richard, which of these cases are the ones you persuaded my clients to take away from me.’
He eyed me sharply. Those cold grey eyes were as empty of feeling as the sea. ‘What has that to do with the earl?’
‘I can only tell you he has an interest in one of the matters.’
‘Which?’ he asked sharply.
‘I may not say.’
He tightened his hard mouth. ‘One day, Shardlake ...’ he said quietly. He snatched the list and ran his eyes down it. ‘The first, second, fourth and fifth,’ he said. ‘Not the third, sixth or seventh.’
The third was the warehouse. I studied his face intently, but could read nothing. Surely he would have paused, or blinked, if he had recognized Salt Wharf.
He thrust the list back at me. ‘Well, is that all?’
‘It is. Thank you, Sir Richard.’
‘God’s death,’ he said with a mocking laugh, ‘how you stare at one. And now, if I may, I shall return to the archbishop’s sermon.’ He turned away without a bow, shoving his way back through the crowd. Barak appeared at my side.
‘What did he say?’
‘He said the warehouse wasn’t one of the ones he’d had taken.’
‘D’you believe him?’
‘He didn’t pause for a second as he read the list. But he’s so clever.’ I was seized by uncertainty. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know.’
But Barak did not reply. He was looking down the hall. Then he turned slowly and said to me quietly, ‘Wright’s here, I saw him. He’s dodged behind that pillar. I don’t think he saw me looking. He’s watching us.’
Instinctively I backed against the wall. ‘What’s he doing here?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe he’s after us again.’
‘Maybe he’s here with Rich. Can you see Toky?’
‘No.’ Barak’s face set. ‘This is our chance to catch him. Have you your dagger?’
I put a hand to my belt. ‘These days, always.’
‘Then will you help me?’
I nodded, though my heart raced at the thought of facing that monstrous creature again. It was only hours ago that he had struck Marchamount down. I tried not to look at the pillars. ‘Is he armed?’
‘He’s a sword at his belt. Even he wouldn’t bring an axe into St Paul’s.’ Barak spoke quickly and quietly, a casual smile on his face. ‘We’ll walk down the nave as though nothing is the matter. When we reach that pillar I’ll rush round to one side. You go the other way and cut him off.’ He looked at me intently. ‘Can you do it?’
I nodded again. Barak began to move down St Paul’s Walk, his stance casual. On the far side of the cathedral Cranmer’s voice could be heard still rising and falling, a distant noise.
We reached the pillar; then, fast as a cat, Barak unsheathed his sword and leaped round the side. I heard a sharp ring of metal on metal; Wright must have had his own sword drawn already. He had been waiting there to kill us.
I ran round the other side of the pillar to see him and Barak with swords raised against each other, circling, Wright moving quickly and fluidly for such a big man. All around people stopped and flattened themselves against the wall. A woman screamed.
I drew my dagger. Wright had not seen me yet. If I could stab him in the arm or leg, disable him, we should have him. I had never attacked a man in cold blood before but my brain was clear, every nerve alert, my fear gone. I stepped forward. Wright heard me and turned, even as he parried a thrust from Barak. His expression was as it had been at the priory: brutish, inhuman, though intent on escape now, not murder.