Revelation

'Then I wish you luck in Hertfordshire.' Guy gave me a look that was stony, almost contemptuous. 'I will not have Piers prosecuted if he is caught,' he said. 'I will not see an eighteen-year-old boy hanged for stealing a little money, as the law prescribes.' He picked up the bag of coins from where I had put it on his table, slipping it into his robe. 'There, your evidence is gone. And now I would like you to leave, Matthew. I hope you find Goddard.' His look said that his involvement in the affair was over.

'Guy—'

He raised a hand. 'No. Please go. I have an appointment to go and visit Adam at the Bedlam.' He gave Barak a sudden hard look, and I realized he was wondering if I had told my assistant about his confusion about Piers. 'I have not—' I began.

'Go, Matthew, please.' His cold, angry tone struck me to the heart.

Barak and I left the shop. As we untied the horses Barak asked curiously, 'What is it you haven't told me?'

'Nothing. Private matters of Guy's.'

We rode away in silence. I almost groaned aloud at the thought of the harm I had done to our long friendship.

Chapter Thirty-eight

WE RODE HOME. The streets were thronged. Most of the city constables seemed to be on patrol, together with several guards in Bishop Bonner's livery. Many people gave them hostile or frightened looks. I thought of those who had been arrested, of the danger to Cranmer. I wondered what the godly men were doing, keeping out of sight, probably, waiting till the storm died down. But this latest persecution would only encourage them to see themselves as martyrs. It occurred to me that Harsnet, as a royal official and a radical, might himself be in danger. Or would the protection of Cranmer and Lord Hertford be enough?

I was exhausted; at home I went up to bed and slept for several hours, then had a gloomy dinner on my own, Barak and Tamasin staying in their room. Seymour's men must have reached Hertfordshire by now. I went to bed early. In the morning there was still no word. Barak joined me at breakfast. 'What's happening?' I said.

'Maybe Seymour's men are dealing with Goddard quietly up there,' Barak said seriously.

I shook my head. 'They should tell us,' I said. A thought struck me. 'Where is Tamasin? Is she missing breakfast again?'

'She's still abed.' Barak looked at me seriously. 'She's guessed somehow that there's been another killing, but I didn't tell her where I went yesterday. She's getting mopish, she just lies in bed. She looked so — sad.'

'Why is it you can no longer communicate, do you think?'

'I don't know.' As so often, he changed the subject. 'You're not going to report young Piers, then?'

'No.'

'What is it between him and the old Moor?' Barak looked at me curiously.

'I think the need for someone to care for, and to pass on his knowledge to, is so strong that it has taken him over. But in the end it does not matter. At least now he is rid of that boy. I hope he has escaped, gone somewhere far from London.'

'If he has any sense he will have. He'll know that if he's tried for theft, he'll hang.'

I stood up abruptly. 'I am going to the Bedlam,' I said. 'Guy said he was going to visit Adam there. I will try and talk to him, make him see sense.'

Barak looked dubious. 'He's pretty angry,' he said.

I almost said, attend to your wife, she is angry too, but bit back the words. 'I can't let it rest like this.'

'Do you want me to come?'

'No. No, I'll go alone.'

He gave me a worried look. I could see he was concerned that the strain was becoming too much for me; his own face looked strained enough. I put my hand on his shoulder.

'I'll ride,' I said. 'I'll be safe. Send word if there is any news from Hertfordshire.'

I REACHED Bishopsgate without incident. But as I rode through the gates into the Bedlam yard I heard an unexpected sound: a woman screaming and sobbing in dreadful fear. For an awful moment I feared the killer had misdirected us again and the seventh killing was to be here, now. Then I saw that a woman was hammering and banging on the closed doors of the Bedlam building, screaming to be let in. A little crowd of passers-by had gathered, some laughing at this latest example of the antics of the mad. I wondered why no one came to open the door. Then, as I rode up to the crowd, I saw that the woman was the keeper Ellen. I dismounted and hastily tied Genesis to the rail.

Ellen took no notice of the crowd. She had flattened her whole body against the door as she screamed in what seemed an extraordinary terror. 'Let me in, Master Shawms! Please! Please!' I elbowed my way through the crowd and laid a hand on her shoulder. 'Ellen,' I said quietly.

She did not look round. She went rigid and seemed to press herself even more tightly against the door. 'Who is it?' she whispered.

'It is I, Master Shardlake. What on earth is the matter?'

'For pity's sake, Master Shardlake, make him let me in.' And with that her knees gave way and she slid down the door, still pressing herself against it, sobbing wildly.