Revelation

Cantrell's voice was quiet again. 'When he died I feared he might somehow still come back, to chide and rail at me. But he has not, there has been only silence in this house since.' He gave an exhausted sigh then and fell silent himself, lost in a world of his own. I looked around the room, at the filthy table and the broken window. Cantrell might be just about surviving from his monk's pension, but he needed help, someone to take care of him.

'How will you get the window repaired?' I asked. He shrugged. 'Perhaps the neighbours might help,' I suggested.

He shook his head fiercely. 'They're a nosy lot. The old shrew up the street used to come in. Tidying up, interfering with my things, telling me I needed to get married.' He laughed angrily. 'Perhaps I could find a blind woman and we could stumble around the house together. I hardly dare go out for victuals in case a cart runs me down.'

'What happened to this little religious group? Are they still active round Westminster?'

He shook his head. 'The vicar of St Margaret's heard there was some radical preaching going on. He got their leader arrested and the others fled. Last year.' A bitter laugh again. 'So much for their cleaving fast to the True Word. They ran like rats.'

So the fate of the group had become public. What had happened to them, I wondered. The members had probably become involved with other groups, other churches. Perhaps, somewhere among them, the murderer had mixed with them, where he heard Cantrell's name spoken of as a backslider. If the killer was Goddard, he would have recognized the name.

'Can you remember the names of the people in the group?' I asked. He gave me half a dozen. They meant nothing to me, but they might to Harsnet.

'But, sir,' Cantrell asked. 'What is all this to do with Master Goddard?' He blinked at me helplessly. I dared not tell him the whole story.

'I am not sure, Master Cantrell. But I think you may be in need of protection. I might be able to arrange for a guard to come to the house, stay here with you.'

Cantrell shook his head vigorously. 'No. I do not want anyone here. Criticizing and saying the place is filthy.' He looked at me again with those wide swimming eyes. 'If Goddard comes to me again, let him. You won't tell me why he's after me, but I care little if I live or die.'

I looked at Barak, who shrugged. I would try and arrange for a guard to be posted, just the same.

'Do you think me a great sinner,' Cantrell asked suddenly. 'Not to care if I die?'

'I think it a great shame.'

'What is death anyway? Afterwards it will be eternal bliss or eternal torment, one or the other, who may know which these days?' He gave a humourless cracked laugh.

'There is one last thing I would ask you,' I said. 'I have just been to see Francis Lockley again. I gained the impression there was something he was keeping back about Infirmarian Goddard. Something he did not want us to know about the man. Can you think what that might be?'

'No, sir. I had nothing to do with the lay infirmary. I only saw Francis when he came to see Master Goddard, to borrow some implements perhaps.' He shrugged, and I thought, he really does not care about anything, not even his own life or death.

WE LEFT THE HOUSE, returned to the stink and the noise of Dean's Yard. 'He's in a bad way,' Barak observed.

'A state of deep melancholy, I would say. Not surprising given what is life has become, and the condition of his eyes.'

'He could pull himself together a bit. Accept some help. Imagine not caring if you lived or died, but caring if someone thought your house was filthy.'

'When we see Harsnet, I will see if I can arrange a guard. I could not bear to see Cantrell tortured like the others.' I did not think the killer would return to Cantrell now his victim had been alerted, but I could not be sure. 'There is one more piece of information we have,' I said. 'We are now looking for a man with an injured head.'

We led the horses across the road to the gate in the abbey wall. Barak nodded to the guard. There was still an hour before Harsnet was due. I felt a need to be alone for a while. 'Barak,' I said, 'see if you can find somewhere to stable the horses. I am going to take a walk inside the precinct. I will meet you back here in an hour.'

'Are you sure that's safe?'

'I shall be within the precinct. It is guarded. I will see you soon.' To settle the argument I turned away from him, nodding to the guard. Recognizing me, he opened the door in the wall to let me through. I stepped again into the precinct of Westminster Abbey.