Revelation

The dean wiped his face with his sleeve. 'I have ridden halfway across London in the rain looking for you, sir. Your servant at Whitehall wouldn't tell me where you were at first, I had the devil's job to get it out of him. Can we please go inside, I am covered in mud—'

'Pox on the mud!' Sir Thomas Seymour said brutally. 'Who are you and what do you want?'

Benson thrust his chest forward. 'I am William Benson, Dean of Westminster Abbey. And who are you?'

'Sir Thomas Seymour, brother of Lord Hertford.'

'Seymour?' The dean frowned, and I could see his mind making connections. So the Seymour family were involved in this—

'What do you want, sir?' Harsnet asked again.

'We should go inside. What I have brought here should not get wet.'

Harsnet hesitated a moment, then led the way back into the conduit-house. Janley and Padge bowed as the gentleman of the church entered. The dean looked round him, puzzled. 'What is going on in here?'

'Never mind that for now,' Harsnet said. 'Please, tell us why you have come.'

Benson delved in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. 'This was pushed under the front door of my house just before dawn. My steward brought it to me.' He handed the paper to Harsnet. We gathered round the coroner. The paper was folded, Dean Benson's name and the words MOST URGENT written on it. Harsnet opened it. Inside was written, again in block capitals:

LANCELOT GODDARD KINESWORTH VILLAGE BY TOTTERIDGE HERTFORDSHIRE

We stared at the simple, stark message, the address. 'Hertfordshire,' Harsnet said quietly. 'I did not think to make enquiry so far.'

'I've been to Totteridge village,' Barak said. 'It's at the bottom of that little ringer of Hertfordshire land that sticks down towards London. It's a couple of hours' ride away.'

'You say this was pushed under your door,' Sir Thomas said. 'You didn't by any chance write it yourself?'

'Of course I didn't,' Benson snapped.

'The killer knew we were about to find the sixth victim,' I said quietly.

'And now he is giving us his address?' Harsnet said incredulously. 'He is surrendering?'

I took the piece of paper. I felt reluctant to touch the writing, the killer's writing. 'No. That would be to abandon his mission. And Goddard may be the victim, not the killer. The killer may not be inviting us to this village to surrender. It could be to show us the seventh killing. The last. The great earthquake that will signal the end of the world.'

THERE WAS SILENCE for a moment. The dean looked between us, puzzled. 'There has been a sixth death? Who? Here?' He looked around, then his eyes fixed on the shaft.

'Down there,' I said quietly. 'Your former lay brother, Francis Lockley.'

The dean looked at the hatch, then stepped away, his face white. 'Dean,' Harsnet said. 'Go back to your house and stay there should we need you again. And tell nobody. You have seen now that the Seymour family is involved in this, how high this matter reaches.'

'What are you going to do?' Benson asked.

'Take steps,' Harsnet said noncommittally.

'Get out, you're wasting time,' Thomas Seymour said. 'Or do you want me to take you down to get a proper look at what's down that hatch? It's not pretty.'

The dean shrank away. He looked round us again, then turned and went out. He called to his retainers to follow him, and we listened to their footsteps on the wet flagstones dying away.

Harsnet looked round at us. 'We should ride up to Totteridge now,' he said. 'Sir Thomas, can you get some men—'

'I'm not sure we should do that,' I said urgently. 'It is what he would expect. We could be riding into a trap.'

'But if Sir Thomas can get some men,' Barak said, 'and we can ride there in force—'

'The hunchback's right,' Seymour said. 'This creature's got something waiting for us up there. It would be better for me to send a couple of trusted men up to that village, my steward and another man, an ex-soldier, who was with me in Hungary. They can spy out the land, find out whether Goddard lives there, make contact with the local magistrate. They can report back tonight. Coroner Harsnet, you should tell the Archbishop what has happened, then I will report to him personally as soon as I have news.'

'We should storm the place,' Barak pressed.

'Let's see the lie of the land first,' Seymour said 'We can go to that village in force tomorrow.' He looked at the coroner. 'But we shall need the Archbishop's approval.'

Despite his insulting behaviour towards me, I looked at Sir Thomas with a new respect. He had been an ambassador with a fighting army in Hungary, he was thinking strategically.

'I should go with your men,' Harsnet said.

'No, Gregory,' I said. 'There is every chance that the killer will recognize you, given how he has been following us. It may be possible for Sir Thomas' men to make enquiries without showing who they are.'

'You think this man's possessed by the devil,' Seymour said. 'We have to show as much cunning as he does.'