Tombland

‘Or know where she could have been during those nine years after she left her husband?’

‘I know only that she was right to leave John Boleyn and my pestilential grandsons. Where she went – who knows, perhaps far away.’ She sighed. ‘It does not matter now. None of it matters.’

‘Not the identity of your daughter’s murderer, or John Boleyn’s fate?’

‘England is crumbling all around us, Master Shardlake. Well, let it.’ She fell silent. Next door, the argument between Sotherton and Gawen Reynolds was getting louder. I heard Reynolds shout, ‘It’s only for a few more days, Nicholas! Our information from London is that an army is to be made ready in case the Herald failed, as he did.’

‘Those brutes almost found my brother in his hiding place and took him! What do you think they would do to me if they found –’

There was a knock at the door and it opened, making both Jane and me jump. But it was only a servant lad, bearing candles. He bowed. ‘Mistress Sotherton said to light the rooms.’

‘Are all the outer doors locked?’ Jane asked.

‘All except the courtyard doors, those dogs smashed the lock when they broke in. I will secure it.’ He went round the room, lighting candles, righting several sconces which had been knocked over. When he left, Jane asked me, ‘Were many killed when the rebels attacked Norwich this morning?’

‘Some dozens, I think.’

She looked out onto the garden. ‘Perhaps the prophets are right, and the end of the world is nigh. Then we shall be judged. I wonder whether it will be heaven or hell for me. I remember the story of Job in the Bible; God granted him peace at last after all his trials. I hope it is the same for Edith and me.’ For the first time her voice shook, and she turned her head away.

Then the door opened, and Gawen Reynolds limped in with his stick, the thin face beneath his black cap thunderous. He was followed by an expensively dressed man in his forties, with a bad cut on his cheekbone. Reynolds glared at his wife; at first he did not see me. ‘Mistress Sotherton had enough of your company, Jane?’ He laughed. ‘This frightened rabbit won’t help us any more, he’s sent the steward—’ He broke off, eyes widening as he finally noticed me. ‘Christ’s bloody nails!’ he shouted. ‘What in the name of the Virgin’s tits are you doing here with my wife?’

‘I wanted to ask a few more questions about your daughter’s murder.’

Reynolds turned angrily to his wife. ‘What have you been saying?’

She shrank back a step. ‘Nothing, Husband. I know nothing.’

Reynolds turned back to me. ‘I heard there was a hunchback lawyer in the camp. So, it was you. I’ll see you hang before this is done.’ Overcome with anger, he raised his stick and crossed the room, clearly with the intention of striking me. Nicholas Sotherton dashed forward and grabbed it, wresting it from the old man’s hand. ‘In Christ’s name, Gawen, if this man is one of Kett’s people, leave him alone! You seem to want to bring ever more trouble down on me!’

Reynolds took back the stick. He leaned on it, breathing heavily, looking at me with hatred. But Nicholas Sotherton’s reaction to Reynolds’s attempt to assault me made me realize I held some power here. I said, ‘It is you that must take care, Master Reynolds. I am at Mousehold, my task to ensure judgements are arrived at in a proper legal manner. As for your grandsons, they will be indicted for the attempted murder of the boy they struck at Brikewell, whose mind is gone. By me.’

Reynolds almost snarled at me, showing a set of yellow teeth. ‘When the Protector sends his army to deal with you and those dogs on Mousehold, none of you will be left to indict anybody. My friends and I will ensure the leaders are hung from that Oak of yours, and I shall see that includes you.’

‘Fine words,’ I replied, ‘but who controls Norwich now? I could soon arrange for more “visitors” to come to this house, yours, too, though I hear you bought your way out of trouble this morning.’

At that Reynolds fell silent. Sotherton said to me, ‘Sir, please leave my house now, unless you have business with me.’

‘No, I came only to speak to Mistress Reynolds, though she had naught to tell me. I will leave gladly,’ I said.

Then everyone turned at the sound of thunderous footsteps on the staircase outside. Gerald and Barnabas Boleyn banged open the door and strode angrily into the room. They wore rough leather jerkins, their muscular arms bare, and each carried a long knife. They were dirty, their yellow hair and straggly boys’ beards full of grey dust, Barnabas’s scar standing out.

Sotherton closed his eyes. Gawen Reynolds set his mouth hard. Jane retreated to the darkest corner of the room. Instinctively, I followed her.

The twins looked at Reynolds. ‘What the fuck’s going on, Granfer?’ Gerald asked loudly. ‘That fucking steward came and lifted the floorboards in the attic, told us we had to go. Why? We’re well enough hidden! They didn’t find us when they came for Leonard Sotherton!’