Revelation

'And the other assistant?' I asked. 'Cantrell.'

'Ah, yes, young Brother Cantrell. Goddard trained him up, but he never seemed satisfied with him, I recall.'

'Goddard's old neighbours said that he had come into an inheritance,' Harsnet said.

Benson pursed his lips. 'I have an idea his family had money, and lived near London. Somewhere to the north I think. You may be able to find out somehow.'

I doubted it. They said there were sixty thousand souls in and around London now. 'Are there no records at all left?' I asked.

'All gone,' Benson said, shaking his head. 'When the abbey closed, the Augmentations men told us to burn all our papers, our records and songsheets, even our books. Lord Cromwell wanted monasticism utterly exterminated, sir.'

'And you lost touch with your charges?'

'All except those who work under me now.'

'Those three men?' I asked. 'How were they built, how strong were they? Our man is strong, and clever too.'

The dean laughed. 'Then I think you may discount both the assistants. Neither showed any great brains and muscle still less. Lockley is a small round man in his fifties with a taste for the bottle. Young Cantrell was a tall and stringy fellow. I recall he had a huge Adam's apple in his thin neck, it was hard not to look at it. He had trouble with his eyes, I remember. He took to dropping things in the infirmary. Goddard found he was short-sighted and got him some glasses so he could do his work.' He raised a finger. 'I remember now, Cantrell lives in the precinct outside here, his father was a carpenter. I saw him some time ago in the street, with his thick glasses, and remember thinking he would have trouble carrying on his father's trade. Cut his fingers off likely as not.' He laughed. And you said the doctor was cold, I thought.

Harsnet looked at me. 'We should see those two men, Master Shardlake. Barak has the addresses?'

'He does.'

'Good. Then we will leave you, dean. But we may call on you again.'

'Of course,' Benson shook his head, gave a puzzled smile. 'You believe this man will commit seven murders? To fulfil the prophecy of the seven vials in Revelation?'

'Yes, sir,' I answered seriously. 'He has only reached the third vial. I fear the fourth must come soon.'

Benson shook his head again, then rose. 'Then I pray you soon catch him.'

WE COLLECTED Barak and went outside. The hammering was louder. I turned to Harsnet.

'He was hiding something,' I said.

The coroner nodded. 'That was my thought too. But what?'

'He's watching,' Barak said quietly. Harsnet and I turned. The dean was at his window, staring out at us. He turned away, disappearing into the shadows of his room.

'It might be interesting to take a look around,' I suggested. 'At the chapterhouse, the infirmary buildings and garden.'

Harsnet nodded. 'Very well.'

We picked our way carefully over rubble and building materials, heading for the cloister. We passed a great pile of mattresses, perhaps from the dormitory.

'What did you think of Benson?' I asked Harsnet.

'A greedy careerist.' Harsnet frowned. 'It is sad Lord Cromwell had to use such people in the cause of reform.' He looked at me. 'It disillusioned many people.'

I wondered if Cranmer had told him that it had disillusioned me.

The three of us walked on, past where the old monks' dormitory was being demolished, men on the roof pulling off slates and casting them into the gutted interior of the fine old building. To our right, neglected and full of weeds, was what must once have been the abbot's formal garden. Next to it was an area where herbs had grown wild, neglected for three years. I recognized the distinctive stems and seed heads of poppies.

'So,' Harsnet said. 'Goddard did grow poppies.'

I looked at the desolation. 'Yes. And heaven knows what else.'

We walked back, through the din of demolition work, and entered the old cloister between the monastic buildings and the church. All at once it was quiet. Then another shower began, pattering on the roof of the walkway and hissing on the flagstones of the cloister yard within. Harsnet looked out over the cloister where the monks once walked, stroking his short greying beard. I wondered what he was thinking. Then he turned to me with an unexpected smile. 'There is a bench over there,' he said. 'Perhaps now would be a good chance to have a talk, in peace and quiet, before we go to visit the chapterhouse.'

'Yes. My head is fairly buzzing with all that has happened.' The three of us went and sat down.

'I think Dean Benson knows more than he allowed,' I said.

Harsnet nodded. 'I agree. We will question him again, and soon. But I do not think he knows Goddard's whereabouts. He would realize it would not be wise to conceal that.' He shook his head, sighing deeply. 'And what is Goddard? Is he the man we seek, or another victim, or neither?' His west country accent was stronger, as it seemed to become whenever he spoke with emphasis.

'It is over two months since he disappeared. I think if he had been a victim he would have been found by now.'