Mitchell stood up, grabbed the wretched guard, and thrust him back into the antechamber. He returned and sat behind his desk again, looking haggard. I said, ‘I want this kept quiet till you receive further orders.’
‘I place myself in the hands of the Queen. It is my responsibility Leeman is gone.’ Mitchell shook his head. ‘But it is hard sometimes, having to take on these young country gentlemen because their fathers have influence. And these last months have been terrible. All the rumours – I have served the Queen loyally these three years, but since the spring I have never known when I may be ordered to arrest her.’
I did not answer. I could feel no sympathy for him. However well organized, however disciplined a system of security might be, it only took one slip from a man in a crucial position for the line to be broken. ‘Tell me more about Leeman,’ I said eventually.
‘His father is a landowner in Kent. He has some distant connection to the Parrs through their Throckmorton cousins, one of whom petitioned for a post for him. I interviewed young Leeman last year. I thought him suitable; as a gentleman, he was well trained in the arts of combat and he is a big, handsome young fellow, well set up. Though even then he struck me as a little serious. And godly; he said his main interest was the study of religion. Well, being a reformer was no hindrance then.’ He sighed. ‘And he was a good and loyal guard for two years. Never a hint of trouble, except that twice he had to be warned against evangelizing among his fellow guards. It annoyed them. I warned him early this year such talk was becoming dangerous.’ Mitchell leaned forward. ‘He is the last one I would have expected to have concocted a plot to steal one of the Queen’s jewels. And Leeman is not rich, his family are poor and distant cousins of the Queen, delighted to have a son in such a post. How could he have come by such a huge sum as ten sovereigns to offer Gawger?’
‘I do not know.’
Mitchell swallowed. ‘I expect there will be a search for Leeman now.’
‘It rests with the Queen and Lord Parr,’ I said quietly, standing up. ‘For now, keep Gawger close confined – and tell nobody.’ I bowed and left him.
I RETURNED TO the Queen’s Privy Chamber. Lord Parr was pacing up and down, the Queen still sitting beneath her cloth of estate, playing with the pearl that once belonged to Catherine Howard. Her spaniel, Rig, lay at her feet.
I told them what had happened with Mitchell and Gawger.
‘So,’ Lord Parr said heavily. ‘Thanks to you, we now know who, but not how or why. And thanks to that fool Mitchell, Leeman is gone.’
‘As for the how, I think another word with the carpenter is called for. Especially now we know Leeman had money to wave before people. As to the why – I begin to wonder whether a whole group of radical Protestants may be involved in this, reaching from Leeman to the printer Greening. But that brings us back to the question of why. Why would they steal the book?’
‘And how did they come to know of its existence in the first place?’ Lord Parr asked.
Suddenly the Queen leaned forward, her silks rustling, and burst into tears: loud, racking sobs. Her uncle went and put a hand on her arm. ‘Kate, Kate,’ he said soothingly. ‘We must be calm.’
She lifted her face. It was full of fear, tears smudging the white ceruse on her cheeks. The sight of her in such a state squeezed at my heart.
‘Be calm!’ she cried. ‘How? When the theft has already caused two deaths! And whoever these people are who stole my book, it looks as though someone else was after them and has it now! All because of my sin of pride in not taking Archbishop Cranmer’s advice and destroying the manuscript! Lamentation! Lamentation indeed!’ She took a long, shuddering breath, then turned a face of misery upon us. ‘Do you know what the worst thing is, for me who wrote a book urging people to forget the temptations of the world and seek salvation? That even now, with those poor men dead, it is not of them that I think, nor my family and friends in danger, but of myself, being put in the fire, like Anne Askew! I imagine myself chained to the stake, I hear the crackle as the faggots are lit, I smell the smoke and feel the flames.’ Her voice rose, frantic now. ‘I have feared it since the spring. After the King humiliated Wriothesley I thought it was over, but now – ’ She pounded her dress with a fist. ‘I am so selfish, selfish! I, who thought the Lord had favoured me with grace – ’ She was shouting now. The spaniel at her feet whined anxiously.