‘I don’t know.’
The boat bumped into Whitehall steps. While I paid the boatman, Barak showed his seal to one of the guards and we were waved on into the palace. Climbing the stairs, I found it hard to get my breath, little white flashes danced in front of my eyes and I had to pause at the top. Barak was breathing hard too. I looked through the veil of tumbling water at the grand buildings, shivering, for a sudden cold had come with the rain. Barak blew out his cheeks and plodded on, and I followed him wearily.
Once again we made our way to the Privy Gallery and on to Cromwell’s quarters. The guard admitted us to the outer office, where Grey sat over his papers. He was checking some documents with a clerk and looked up in surprise at our drenched, muddy forms.
‘Master Grey,’ I said, ‘we have a message for Lord Cromwell. It is of the greatest urgency.’
He looked at us a moment, then bade the clerk leave. He came round his desk, fluttering his arms anxiously. ‘What has happened, Master Shardlake? Barak, your arm—’
‘We have the answer to Greek Fire,’ I said. ‘It was all a fraud, planned by Norfolk to discredit Cromwell.’ I quickly told him what had happened at the warehouse, my words tumbling over each other. He sat with his mouth open.
‘Please,’ I concluded urgently, ‘we must tell the earl at once.’
He glanced at Cromwell’s closed door. ‘He’s not here. He had a message to go to Hampton Court, Queen Anne is there and sent for him. He left by boat an hour ago. He’s due back at Westminster this evening, some parliamentary business—’
‘Where is the king?’
‘At Greenwich.’
‘Then we’ll go to Hampton Court.’ Barak stepped away from the table, then groaned. He staggered and would have fallen had I not caught him and sat him on a chair. Grey’s eyes widened.
‘What ails him? Look, his arm is bleeding.’
I saw the tourniquet had loosened and Barak was bleeding again. He was deathly pale and there was sweat on his face. ‘God’s teeth, I’m cold.’ He shivered, plucking at his soaked doublet.
‘You’re in no state to go to Hampton Court,’ I said. I turned to Grey. ‘Is the king’s physician here?’
Grey shook his head, hovering fussily over Barak. ‘The king ordered Dr Butts and his assistant away yesterday. They wanted to open the ulcer on his leg again and he ordered them out with a volley of oaths. Threw his cushions at them.’
‘Then you should see Guy, Barak,’ I said. ‘I’ll take you.’
‘No. You must go to Hampton Court. Leave me here.’
‘I’m half-fainting myself.’ I turned to the secretary. ‘Master Grey, can you have a message taken to Hampton Court at once? By someone you can trust, someone who is loyal to the earl?’
He nodded. ‘If you think that best. Young Hanfold is here.’
‘I remember him.’ I smiled wryly. ‘He brought me a message from the Tower once that sealed the fate of a monastery. Yes, send him.’ I took a quill and scribbled a note to Cromwell. Grey impressed Cromwell’s seal on the letter and bustled from the room with it, calling for Hanfold. I looked out over the sodden garden.
‘What will Norfolk do now?’ I asked pensively.
‘He still thinks he’s safe. It’ll be hours before he starts to worry because no message has come from the warehouse.’
I studied him; he was still very pale. ‘Can you make it to Guy’s? We can come back after, or Cromwell can send for us there.’
‘All right.’ He got up slowly. ‘Maybe I’d better, before I bleed to death over Master Grey’s fine chair.’
The secretary returned to say the message was on its way and a boat was waiting to take us back downriver. I gave him the address of Guy’s shop and we hurried away. Another half-hour in the rain and we disembarked. Barak was stumbling now and I helped him through the lanes to Guy’s shop, staggering along the alleys like a pair of scarecrows.
Guy answered the door and let us in with little more than raised eyebrows; he was becoming used to this. We sat down in the shop; Barak removed his shirt and Guy examined his arm. It was a horrible gash, very deep. Barak clutched at his mezuzah as Guy’s fingers probed.
‘I think I should sew your arm, Master Barak,’ Guy said. ‘Can you bear some pain?’
Barak screwed up his face. ‘Have I any choice?’