Dark Fire

As I dressed on that seventh of June I thought how much I had to do that day; visit Elizabeth, see Guy, then answer Cromwell's summons. My heart sank at the thought of that last. There were only three days left. But by now, hopefully, Cromwell would have questioned Marchamount. If Lady Honor knew nothing, and Rich and Bealknap were out of the picture, that left only him. I hoped he would lead the way to the Gristwoods' killers; but what if, under pressure, he gave Cromwell the Greek Fire formula? Well, I thought as I dressed, if he did, that was out of my hands.

Barak wanted to come with me to Newgate. He could not find his riding shoes and asked me to wait for him. I stood outside the house. The morning was hot again but a wind had risen, a hot breeze that sent little white clouds racing across the sky. Simon appeared, leading the horses.

'Out again early, sir?' he asked.

'Ay. To Newgate gaol.'

The boy squinted at me from under his blond mop, his narrow face full of interest. 'Has Master Barak been fighting robbers, sir? Is that how he lost his hair?'

I laughed. 'No, Simon. Do not be so nosy.' I looked at the sturdy little shoes he wore. 'Are you used to these now?'

'Yes, thank you, sir. I can run faster, which is well with all the messages I have run lately.' He smiled at me hopefully.

'I suppose it is. Here's sixpence then, towards new shoes when those wear out.'

I smiled as the boy ran back into the house. It struck me I knew nothing of the poor lad's background, only that he had come to the door and Joan, liking his looks, had given him a job. Another of London's innumerable orphans, no doubt.

Barak appeared and we set off. As we rode down Fleet Street I told Barak my burn was giving me pain and I intended to consult Guy after we had seen Cromwell. I was worried he might want to come too, but he only nodded. His face was still marked with the shock of what he had found down the well; I was surprised how deeply it had affected him. But then, of course, he too had once been a beggar boy.

Joseph was waiting outside the gaol. He looked tired and unshaven, his cheeks sunken. He could not go on like this much longer. I told him I had had word Elizabeth was a little better, and that seemed to cheer him.

The gaoler answered our knock. 'William!' he called out. The fat turnkey appeared.

'We would see Mistress Wentworth,' I said.

'How is she this morning?' Joseph asked at the same moment.

'I don't know,' the turnkey answered. 'No one's been up there – we don't want her fever. Apart from that black apothecary; he came again yesterday, but maybe gaol fever doesn't affect such as him.'

'Will you take us to her?'

The turnkey grunted, but led us away to the stairs. It was a relief not to have to see the Hole again. I turned to Joseph as he followed me up the winding stair. 'I have some news,' I said. 'Some fresh evidence at last. I want to try again to get Elizabeth to speak.'

A desperate hope lit Joseph's features. I looked at him seriously. 'I must tax her with some hard things, sir. Things that will not be good to hear. About Sir Edwin's family.'

He took a deep breath, then nodded. 'Very well.'

The turnkey let us into Elizabeth's room. The breeze blew through the barred windows, stirring the cloth on the little table. Elizabeth was lying on her back, very still, but at least she was not twitching and muttering now. Her face was pale. I took a stool and sat down, bending forward so my face was close to hers. Joseph and Barak stood behind me, looking on. I saw the cut on her lip was unhealed, there was a nasty black scab all round it.

She must have been awake for as I leaned close she opened her eyes. They were dull and heavy. I took a deep breath.

'Elizabeth,' I said, 'Jack Barak here has been down your uncle Edwin's well.' Her eyes widened slightly, but she did not speak. 'We broke in last night, and took of the cap that had been put over it. Barak climbed down and saw what was there.'

Joseph's mouth fell open. 'You broke in!'

'It was the only way, Joseph.' I turned back to the silent girl. 'We placed ourselves in danger, Elizabeth, to find the truth. For your sake.' I paused. 'We saw them. All the poor animals. Your cat. And the boy.'

'What boy?' Joseph's voice was sharp with fear.

'There is the corpse of a little boy down the well.'

'Oh, Jesu.' Joseph sat down heavily on the bed. I saw tears well up in Elizabeth's eyes.

'I am sure you did not do those terrible things, Elizabeth-'

'Never,' Joseph said hotly. 'Never!'

'Was it Ralph?'

She coughed, and then finally spoke, in a low, sighing voice. 'Yes. Yes, it was.'