‘Then they may already be gone. But if they are seen, would it be possible to detain them? Perhaps on suspicion of involvement in the theft of a missing jewel?’
‘Yes, that may be a good idea. I will talk to Cecil.’ Lord Parr raised a monitory finger. ‘But remember, Master Shardlake, my powers are limited. And the Queen still has to watch every step.’ He sighed deeply. ‘For myself, I wish I were back in the country.’ He shook his head. ‘Nearly a fortnight since the Lamentation disappeared, and not a whisper of it.’
‘And two men murdered.’
‘I am hardly likely to forget. And I have still heard nothing about this man with half an ear sliced off, in the employ of someone at court.’ All at once, beneath his finery, I saw a puzzled, frightened old man. ‘We are in the midst of a deadly business. Surely the two attacks on Greening’s premises must be connected. Yet the Lamentation had not yet been stolen when the first attack took place. Pox on it!’ He spoke querulously, banging his stick on the cobbles. Then he collected himself, turned and looked at Barak. ‘Will he be acting as your right-hand man in this?’
‘No, my Lord. I’m sorry, but I fear his family commitments—’
Lord Parr grunted impatiently. ‘Too much softness is not a good thing with those who work for you. It gets in the way of business. However, I am arranging for some money to be sent to the apprentice’s mother when his body is taken away. Together with advice to leave London.’
‘Thank you, my Lord.’
Another grunt. ‘I would be in trouble with her majesty if I did not help the woman. And she is safer off the scene. Have you brought the piece of embroidery your boy found?’
‘In my satchel.’
‘Good. You will be taken to the embroiderer after seeing Master Barwic, the carpenter and locksmith. You can also tell the embroiderer the story of the stolen jewel. His name is Hal Gullym.’
‘Has he been with the Queen long?’
‘He is not an old retainer like Barwic, the cofferer. He was employed at court three years ago, when the Queen’s household was set up. Like everyone at Baynard’s Castle he is part of the domus providenciae, a servant, a craftsman. And he has a strong motive for loyalty and obedience. Working for the court takes you to the top of your profession. Every guildsman in London longs to work here.’ He spoke patronizingly, I thought, an aristocrat talking dismissively of men who worked with their hands. ‘So Hal Gullym will be happy to assist. Now – ’ From his robes Lord Parr produced the Queen’s key, still on its gold chain, and gave it to me. ‘Handle that with great care.’
‘I will.’
‘The guard with a fair beard you see over at that door has been told you are coming to investigate a jewel theft; he will guide you, and wait while you examine the chest. Give the key to him afterwards to return to me; he can be trusted. Then he will take you to Barwic and then Gullym. If you find anything important, send word to Whitehall. Otherwise, attend me there at ten tomorrow morning.’ Lord Parr turned and called to Barak. ‘Over here, sirrah, your master has instructions.’ Then he hobbled away to the inner courtyard to join the members of his family.
THE INTERIOR OF THE BUILDING into which the guard led us was nothing like Whitehall, for all the fine tapestries adorning the walls. This part of Baynard’s Castle was a clothing enterprise; embroiderers and dressmakers working at tables in the well-lit hall. The shimmer of silk was everywhere, the air rich with delightful perfumes from the garments. I thought of what the Queen had said, how the richest of these clothes had passed from Queen to Queen.
Barak shook his head at it all. ‘All these people are working on the clothes of the Queen’s household?’
‘It has a staff of hundreds. Clothes, bedlinen, decorations, all have to be of the finest quality and kept in good repair.’ I nodded to the guard, and with a bow he led us over to one of the many side doors. We were taken down a corridor to a large room where several clothes presses stood, bodices and skirts kept flat beneath them. The Queen’s chest stood on a table; I recognized the distinctive red-and-gold fabric covering its top. It was oak, with strong iron brackets at each corner. Barak walked round it, felt the wood, looked at the lock, then lifted the lid and peered inside. It was a bare wooden box, empty except for the tills in the side where small valuables were kept.
‘Good strong piece. You’d need an axe to break in. The chest is old, but the lock’s new.’ He leaned in and thumped the sides and bottom. ‘No hidden compartments.’
‘It is an old family heirloom.’
He looked at me sharply. ‘Of the Queen’s?’
‘Yes. She had a new lock fitted in the spring, the other one was – old.’
He bent and peered closely at the lock, inside and out. Then he said, ‘I’d better see the key. I saw Lord Parr give it to you.’
‘Don’t miss much, do you?’