Revelation

I was taken aback. That would be a huge investment for Guy. I met his look, realizing to my shame that I was jealous. For a long time I had been Guy's only friend.

I HURRIED HOME through the busy streets, for it would soon be curfew-time. Barak was waiting for me in chambers. He was towelling his hair, which like his clothes was soaking wet. Skelly had gone home.

'No luck?' I asked.

'We waited till it got dark, then came away. That bastard was crouching in those reeds all day, he's got away now.' He frowned. 'How did you know?'

'Just a feeling.'

'Harsnet's furious with himself, said he should have left us two there to watch and roused some of the Westminster constables to flush him out. He hadn't believed anyone could have sat it out in those cold marshes all day.' He raised his eyebrows. 'He said it was as though the man was spirited away by a devil.'

'That's all we need.'

'He's right that it would take something to lie out there all day without making a noise. I couldn't do it.'

'We know how determined this creature is,' I said. 'But how did he know we would be there to look at where Dr Gurney was found? That is what worries me.'

'And me,' Barak said with feeling.

We sat silent for a minute, then Barak asked, 'How was Adam Kite?'

'Mad. I hope Guy can help him, but I don't know.'

'Well, I've some news at least. I sent word to Gib Rooke, and he sent a reply, at once, by one of his children. He'll meet us at his house tomorrow, tell us about that killing in Lambeth last winter.'

Out on those marshes again. But the news lifted me, it was something positive to do after a day of horrors. 'Thank you, Jack,' I said. 'You should get off home. Tamasin will be worried about you.'

'I'm seeing some old friends for a drink tonight,' he said brusquely.

When he had gone I went into my room. Poor Tamasin, I thought. And poor Dorothy, I must look in on her before I went home. I saw a sheaf of papers with the Court of Common Pleas seal on my desk, more work. Outside the rain had begun again, pattering on the windows.

Chapter Thirteen

NEXT MORNING Barak and I set out once again for the marshes. We took the horses; it was bright and sunny, a truly springlike day, and they were skittish, Barak's black mare Sukey sniffing the air and tossing her fine head. As we rode through the city I saw crocuses and snowdrops springing up everywhere, even among the tumbled stones of the dissolved Blackfriars monastery. At Cheapside conduit I looked at the beggars gathered round. The Bedlam man was there, singing a nonsensical song to himself, snowdrops stuck in his wild hair. He had a sharp eye on the crowd though, hoping to catch someone's eye and shame them into casting him a coin.

We rode across London Bridge and through Southwark. Gib's child had left directions with Barak; we were to take a path on the far side of Southwark village, where a church stood on the edge of the marshes, and follow it through the marshes to the cottars' dwellings. We found the church easily enough, a square little Norman building perched on the edge of the reedbeds. Beside it a wide track led through the marshes, twisting and turning to follow the higher ground. We passed a group of men shoring up a muddy, sunken stretch of path with cinders and branches. They stepped aside and bowed. I wondered if the cottars had widened and maintained this stretch themselves, to bring their produce to market. They were bringing a whole new area into development; no wonder the landlords were keen to filch the product of their labours.

'Our local butcher's been arrested,' Barak told me.

'Him too?' I looked at him sharply. 'You haven't been buying meat in Lent?'

'No. I would have, left to myself, but Tamasin is too careful.'

'She always had a sensible head on her shoulders.'

'If it's right that Catherine Parr has reformist sympathies,' Barak said, changing the subject, 'she's stepping into a dangerous position if she marries the King. Gardiner and Bonner will be after her, watching every word she says, hoping she'll let slip some reformist opinion they can run and tell the King about.'

'They will. But it will take courage to turn down a proposal from the King.'

Barak looked across the marshes. 'Were those two killings to do with her? Someone who wants to stop the marriage?'

'Thomas Seymour would have a motive,' I said.

'I can't see Sir Thomas lying flat in a bog for most of a cold day. He'd damage his fine clothes.' Barak spoke lightly, yet there was an uneasy note in his voice as he steered a way through the reeds, all around us now.