Tombland

Peter went on, ‘Edith knew she must do it, to survive. And she got used to our ways, quite quickly. Oh, the three of us had some merry times together. Edith tended to stay in the house on market days, and avoid the richer parts of town, but occasionally people of her own class she had known before passed her in the street. And none ever gave her a second glance. She was just another poor woman, you see.’

Nicholas shook his head. ‘So. That is where Edith was all those years.’

There was silence in the hut, as we tried to take it all in. Peter Bone gave a wry smile. ‘There’s a newdickle for you, eh, Master Shardlake. Someone giving up being rich and turning themselves into someone poor.’

‘Yes. I would never have guessed that.’ I smiled sadly. ‘How did Edith come to leave you?’

Peter’s face sagged. ‘By the turn of last year, times were getting hard. I had to let my workers go. Edith and Grace helped me with spinning and weaving, but Edith had developed pains in her hands, and her knuckles had become swollen.’ He sighed. ‘She was often in pain, couldn’t work. Then last spring the influenza came, and carried off poor Grace. It was a terrible shock to Edith and me. By that time we could no longer afford the rent on the house, and Edith still could not work. Then she said there was one thing left she might try, a distant but very rich relative of her husband’s, who she could appeal to for help. I didn’t know then it was the Lady Elizabeth. She left in March, with a little money for the journey. She promised to return within a few weeks, but never came back. Then I heard her body had been found at Brikewell.’

‘You lied, then, saying both your sisters had died of influenza.’

His expression became clouded. ‘I told you Boleyn’s people sought out Grace after she and Edith disappeared from the Boleyns’ estate. When I heard of Edith’s murder I was bereft; I wasn’t going to say where she had been. It wouldn’t have helped; I had no idea who could have murdered her.’ He looked at me. ‘It would not have helped your friend Master Boleyn’s case to discover that Edith hated living at his house so much that she fled and changed her very identity. Besides, Edith and Grace were both now dead, nothing I could do would bring them back.’

I asked quietly, ‘Have you no idea who might have killed her?’

He shook his head. ‘None. Except that it was done with an unbelievable hatred.’

I added, ‘But she kept her wedding ring.’

‘Yes, in a drawer, as I said. Then I brought it here, it was the only keepsake I had of her. I don’t know why she kept it – but with that inscription she could hardly sell it in Norwich Market, could she?’

I said, ‘We hope to find out who killed her, but there are many suspects.’

Peter sighed again, and tears began trickling down his face. ‘Let me know if you find out, but otherwise, please, leave me alone. Every day I try to put it all behind me, and work to build a new and better Commonwealth, perhaps even one where such things may no longer happen.’

Chapter Seventy

I sat on my favourite grassy hummock, on the crest overlooking Norwich. It was a rare sunny day – with the frequent showers of rain, Kett’s forces stationed in the city had occupied some of the churches as well as the cathedral, to the ire of the more pious citizens. It was the sixteenth of August, nearly ten days since Peter Bone had told me where Edith had been all those missing years.

In the camp, I was largely at leisure. Kett had decided there would be no trials of the Norwich gentlemen at the Oak; some who had agreed to cooperate had been freed, others were still held in the castle and Guildhall prisons. Apart from the occasional thief or brawler, there were no more cases to try. As my life became quieter, I realized how much strain I had been under, and for how long; in recent days I had spent a good deal of time asleep. As for my friends, Nicholas was helping with the horses along with Simon; Natty’s arm was better; Barak, though, I was concerned about. Although he still had clerical work, dealing mainly now with materials brought up from Norwich – everything was still meticulously recorded – like me, he had less to do and spent much of his free time wandering around the camp, watching the ceaseless military training, stopping to gossip but also, I noticed, to drink. I knew he felt anxious and guilty about Tamasin, from whom nothing more had been heard.

Looking over the city, I sat mulling over the issue of Edith yet again. Logically, after her rejection at Hatfield, she would have returned to Norwich and Peter Bone. But before she reached him, someone had murdered her and I was no closer to finding who that might be. The twins, Chawry, Boleyn himself – his lack of an alibi still preyed on me – or Isabella – all were possible candidates, and there was also the whole murky issue of Southwell and Flowerdew’s interest in the Brikewell estate to consider.