‘My Lord, forgive me, but the number who know that the Queen has suffered some sort of a theft is growing. News could reach the King. I cannot help wondering – well, whether the Queen might serve her interests best by going now and confessing all to him. He will surely be more merciful than if the book is hawked round the streets and he finds out then that she kept it secret from him.’
Lord Parr rounded on me. In the crowded courtyard he kept his voice low, but his tone was fierce as he spoke. ‘You are not qualified to advise her majesty on such a matter. And remember, great danger still threatens her; it is common knowledge on the Privy Council that there is still something going on, secret talks are occurring between Paget and Gardiner and the King. My nephew William, the Queen’s brother, like most of the Privy Council is outside the circle, but something is afoot that keeps Gardiner looking confident despite the failure of the persecution, that makes him look on with a secret smile when William passes him.’
‘But the book is not heretical,’ I said. ‘And Sir Edward Seymour is expected soon at court, as, I heard, is Lord Lisle. Both are reformers, and in alliance with the Parrs they will be strong—’
‘It is not safe for the Queen to tell the King.’ The old man’s voice shook with anger and I saw the strain on his face. ‘You overstep the mark, sir, by God you do! The alliance between the Parr and Seymour families is none of your business. You know nothing of it, nor of the machinations at court.’ He lowered his voice. ‘But you should have come to realize, after all these years, that the one thing this King will not tolerate is any suspicion of disloyalty.’
‘I only thought to help, my Lord.’
‘Then keep your nose out of matters far above your station. And remember, Master Shardlake, you answer to me alone. Be at the Middle Tower gate at eleven tomorrow, with your horse, and wearing your robe.’ And with that Lord Parr turned and limped away.
I watched him go, the hot sun beating down on my head. Stepping away, I tripped. I righted myself, yet still the ground seemed to rock under my feet, as it had when the Mary Rose foundered. I closed my eyes. The picture that came to my mind, though, was not the great ship turning over, nor the men falling into the sea, but Anne Askew on fire, Anne Askew’s head exploding.
Chapter Nineteen
NEXT MORNING I SET OUT early again. The last four days had passed in a blur; but if the Queen’s book was to be recovered, time was of the essence. The previous evening I had sent a note to Okedene; I was worried about him. I warned him that Greening’s killers were still at large and urged him to make arrangements for his security. Lord Parr had not authorized me to write, but I felt it my duty nevertheless.
Downstairs, Josephine served my breakfast. I wondered again about her difficulties with Martin Brocket, but she seemed cheerful enough today.
Outside it was warm and sunny again. I remembered I was due for dinner at Coleswyn’s that evening. I would be at the Tower later in the morning and I thought of cancelling the meal, but decided it might be good to have some ordinary human company after that particular visit.
First I called in at chambers. Barak and Skelly were there working already, doing my work as well as their own. Nicholas had left early, Barak said, to continue checking the embroiderers’ shops, having had, apparently, no luck the previous day. His tone was slightly aggrieved; Barak really did not like being kept out of things. I said I was going to the painting inspection, and would also be out in the afternoon now.
‘Why don’t you just tell that Slanning creature to piss off and get another lawyer since you’re so busy?’
‘I can’t, not without good cause,’ I answered stubbornly. ‘I’ve taken on the case, I have to see it through.’
‘Even when you have this other thing on your mind?’
‘Yes.’
I left him, feeling not a little uneasy.
THE COTTERSTOKE HOUSE was at Dowgate, on the other side of the city, so I rode down Cheapside; the shops were just opening, market traders setting up their stalls. I remembered my last conversation with Coleswyn; our pact to try and bring this case to a decent resolution. It had crossed my mind to make discreet enquiries at the Haberdashers’ Guild about the Cotterstoke family history, but that would be unprofessional, and besides I had no time.
Ahead of me I saw another black-robed lawyer riding along slowly, head bowed as though in thought, and realized it was Philip Coleswyn. I caught him up.
‘God give you good morrow, Brother Coleswyn.’
‘And you. Are you ready for the inspection?’
‘My client will be there. And yours?’
‘Master Cotterstoke. Oh, undoubtedly.’ Coleswyn smiled ironically, then added, ‘My wife looks forward to meeting you tonight. Around six, if that is not too late?’