Dark Fire

'I should go to Edwin,' he said.

The constable raised a hand. 'The magistrate's still with him, sir.'

Things kept floating into my mind. 'Cromwell!' I exclaimed. 'It's been hours, is there word from Grey?'

Barak nodded. 'This arrived here a short while ago.' He took a note with the earl's seal from his pocket and handed it to me. I read, in Grey's precise hand: Lord Cromwell has your message. He is seeing the king today and will contact you should you be needed. He thanks you mightily.

'Then it's done,' I breathed. I leant back, relieved. 'He sends us thanks too.'

Guy came over to me. He looked in my mouth and eyes, then did the same to Barak.

'You're both all right,' he said. 'But you should go home, sleep. You will be very tired and shaky for some days.'

'I'll not argue with you, sir,' Barak said.

'And now I ought to return to my shop. I have patients.' He bowed to us and turned for the door, exotic-looking as ever in his long hooded robe, with his oak-brown face, his curly grey-black hair.

'Thank you, old friend,' I said quietly.

He raised a hand and smiled, then went out.

'Odd-looking fellow,' the constable observed. 'When I came here I thought it was him I had to arrest.'

I did not reply.

The door opened again and a tall, thin man I recognized as Magistrate Parsloe entered. He was normally full of cheerful self-importance, but today he looked sombre. He bowed, then turned to Joseph. 'Master Wentworth, I think perhaps you should go to your brother.'

Joseph stood eagerly. 'I was going to, sir. Has he asked for me?'

Parsloe hesitated. 'No, but he needs someone with him, I think.' He looked at me. 'Master Shardlake, I am glad to see you are recovered. It was quite a scene that met my eyes when the constable called me here.'

'I can imagine. You have questioned Sir Edwin?'

'Yes. He says he knew nothing of his family's doings. I believe him; he is a stricken man.' Parsloe shook his head. 'Strange, though, that the old woman should work so closely with a mere steward.'

'Needler was her eyes, she said so herself. She needed him, she was vulnerable in that way if in no other.'

'We found this in the wine cellar.' Parsloe passed a little glass phial to me. 'Your apothecary friend says it is a very strong concentration of belladonna.'

I handed it back to him, suppressing a shudder.

'Can you come to the Old Bailey tomorrow, sir?' he asked. 'Elizabeth Wentworth is up before Judge Forbizer. It would help if you could give evidence.'

'I will. Do you think she will speak now?'

'Yes.'

I looked wryly at Barak. 'Now the facts are known, there will be no martyrdom for her, whether she wishes it or not.' I turned to Joseph. 'Can you be at court at ten tomorrow as well? Then Elizabeth can be discharged into your care.'

He nodded. 'Yes. And thank you, sir, thank you for everything.'

We followed him to the door. Opposite, we could see into a well-appointed bedroom. In a chair by the bed Sir Edwin sat still as a stone, his face white and puffy. Joseph knocked and went in. His brother looked up with dull unseeing eyes. Joseph sat on the bed and reached for his hand, but Sir Edwin flinched away.

'Come, Edwin,' Joseph said gently. 'I am here. I will help you if I can.' He reached out again, and this time his brother let him take his hand.

'Let us go, Barak,' I said quietly, nudging him to the front door.

***

WE WENT HOME. Though I felt light-headed and kept having to pause I prepared a statement for Forbizer and had Barak, who was in little better case, do the same. Reading his statement over, I was surprised at how neatly and fluently he wrote; the monks' school had taught him well and no doubt he had needed writing for all the reports he must have sent to Cromwell. Afterwards we ate and then, for a second night, went wearily up to bed to sleep like stones.

***

NEXT MORNING there was no further word from Cromwell. It was the tenth of June, the day of reckoning. As we breakfasted I looked out of the window. It was still cloudy and a little misty. The demonstration before the king would have been today. Greek Fire would have made a more extraordinary spectacle than ever on such a grey, wet morning.

'Time to go,' Barak said. 'Are you fit?'

'Just about. A little trembling and dryness of the throat is all.' I forced myself to my feet. 'Come on. We don't want to be late today of all days.'

At the Old Bailey everything was ready. Parsloe, the constable and three anxious-looking Wentworth servants were waiting in the outer hall; Parsloe had a collection of statements for me to look over. Joseph stood next to him, still pale though more composed than yesterday. For him, this was indeed a Pyrrhic victory.

I took his arm. 'Are you ready, Joseph?'

'Ay. Edwin was unable to come, he is in a bad state.'

'I understand. And he was not there yesterday, he has no direct evidence to give.'