Tombland

‘I thought that was the end of it, and even felt sorry for him, and was grateful for the way he helped me after we were thrown out of the house.’ Isabella fell silent a moment, angrily brushing a wisp of blonde hair from her face, then took a deep breath. ‘The night Northampton’s army occupied the market and lit that great bonfire I was terrified, I feared the fire might spread to the buildings, while all around I heard rebel shouts of “To arms!” from the streets. I confess I broke down and cried like a weak woman, for all I have tried to be strong.’ She lowered her eyes, then looked up again fiercely. ‘Then, suddenly, Daniel grabbed at me. He took me in his arms, though I resisted, and said he would protect me, make me forget what was happening, in the way a man should; a strong, young man, unlike my husband.’ Her voice shook. ‘He began pulling at my clothing, fiddling with the ties on his upper hose. I scratched his face – you saw the marks – and told him if he tried to force me I would scream till the whole of Northampton’s army came in.’ Her voice steadied. ‘I told him I had relied on him for so long, and now he had betrayed me. But he just went on saying he loved me, we were meant to be together.’

‘Will you tell your husband?’

She hesitated. ‘Not yet, at least. He has enough to trouble him.’ Tears showed at the corners of her eyes, and suddenly Isabella reached for my hand. ‘I thank God I still have you, Master Shardlake.’

‘You can rely on me.’

‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘I thought for so long that I could trust Daniel.’ She blinked back her tears, and said stonily, ‘If I had not scratched him and threatened to yell the place down, I believe he would have raped me.’

I said, ‘Is it safe to allow him back to Brikewell? If I told Michael Vowell he tried to rape you, he may take him back to the camp as a prisoner. Perhaps that is the best place for him.’

She hesitated, then said, ‘I do not want this known publicly.’

‘But Isabella, is it safe to let him back to Brikewell?’ I asked again.

‘I shall not return there without John. And I do not think Daniel will go back, he will run away. Once he is gone I shall tell the innkeeper he is not to be allowed back in here.’

I hesitated, then said, ‘If he would rape you, perhaps he would have killed Edith.’

She set her lips hard, then said, ‘I do not believe he did that. And I would rather he simply left.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes,’ she said, suddenly angry. ‘I just want him gone. And tomorrow I shall be with John.’

There was one more question I had to ask. ‘Isabella, after this – is it not possible that Daniel Chawry might have been the one who tried to poison your husband?’

Isabella shook her head wearily. ‘I think not. Daniel has a good regard for his safety, he would not risk a charge of murder.’ She fell silent, then gathered herself and looked at the table. ‘There is a parcel of food there for John and Nicholas. Would you take it to them?’ She smiled. ‘I hope I see Nicholas again, to thank him for what he has done, and keeping my husband safe.’

* * *

VOWELL AND I LEFT the inn. Vowell told me Chawry had walked off immediately after our encounter, disappearing into the crowds in the marketplace. As we walked uphill to the prison I could not help thinking, if Chawry had had these fantasies for years, it would have suited him to kill Edith and make it public, to seem as though John Boleyn had done it, and then to try and kill Boleyn, too. I was surprised by Isabella’s readiness to let him go.

As we trudged up the Castle Mound, my pace slowed, and I realized how tired I was, physically but mentally, too. My life this last month had been a whirl such as I had never known. And for most of the time I had been little more than an onlooker. I glanced at Michael Vowell. He had been at the heart of all that had happened, culminating in the battle, but his face had settled into its usual calm expression, showing nothing of what he had been through. But he was many years younger than I, and full of commitment to the cause. He looked up at the grey sky. ‘We’d best keep a-doin’, it looks like more rain.’

* * *

THE INTERIOR OF the gaol was even more crowded than before, and the space, huge as it was, had the prison smell of unwashed bodies, badly cooked food, and fear. A small group of gentlemen were being led upstairs. One said furiously, ‘I’m a former mayor of Norwich!’

‘Don’t get it yet, do you?’ the man leading them said wearily.

Vowell secured us a gaoler to take us to Boleyn’s cell. To my relief, he and Nicholas both seemed well enough, and were playing chess at the table. They looked up at me in surprise. I introduced Vowell as an official of the camp, and Boleyn gave him a steely look. Then he turned to me and smiled. ‘Isabella is coming to stay with me from tomorrow. God bless her stout heart. Chawry is going back to look after Brikewell.’

‘Yes, so I understand.’ He obviously suspected nothing of what had happened, though I guessed that Vowell, who raised his eyebrows slightly, did.