Dark Fire

'Needler was her eyes, she said so herself. She needed him, she was vulnerable in that way if in no other.'

'We found this in the wine cellar.' Parsloe passed a little glass phial to me. 'Your apothecary friend says it is a very strong concentration of belladonna.'

I handed it back to him, suppressing a shudder.

'Can you come to the Old Bailey tomorrow, sir?' he asked. 'Elizabeth Wentworth is up before Judge Forbizer. It would help if you could give evidence.'

'I will. Do you think she will speak now?'

'Yes.'

I looked wryly at Barak. 'Now the facts are known, there will be no martyrdom for her, whether she wishes it or not.' I turned to Joseph. 'Can you be at court at ten tomorrow as well? Then Elizabeth can be discharged into your care.'

He nodded. 'Yes. And thank you, sir, thank you for everything.'

We followed him to the door. Opposite, we could see into a well-appointed bedroom. In a chair by the bed Sir Edwin sat still as a stone, his face white and puffy. Joseph knocked and went in. His brother looked up with dull unseeing eyes. Joseph sat on the bed and reached for his hand, but Sir Edwin flinched away.

'Come, Edwin,' Joseph said gently. 'I am here. I will help you if I can.' He reached out again, and this time his brother let him take his hand.

'Let us go, Barak,' I said quietly, nudging him to the front door.

* * *

WE WENT HOME. Though I felt light-headed and kept having to pause I prepared a statement for Forbizer and had Barak, who was in little better case, do the same. Reading his statement over, I was surprised at how neatly and fluently he wrote; the monks' school had taught him well and no doubt he had needed writing for all the reports he must have sent to Cromwell. Afterwards we ate and then, for a second night, went wearily up to bed to sleep like stones.

* * *

NEXT MORNING there was no further word from Cromwell. It was the tenth of June, the day of reckoning. As we breakfasted I looked out of the window. It was still cloudy and a little misty. The demonstration before the king would have been today. Greek Fire would have made a more extraordinary spectacle than ever on such a grey, wet morning.

'Time to go,' Barak said. 'Are you fit?'

'Just about. A little trembling and dryness of the throat is all.' I forced myself to my feet. 'Come on. We don't want to be late today of all days.'

At the Old Bailey everything was ready. Parsloe, the constable and three anxious-looking Wentworth servants were waiting in the outer hall; Parsloe had a collection of statements for me to look over. Joseph stood next to him, still pale though more composed than yesterday. For him, this was indeed a Pyrrhic victory.

I took his arm. 'Are you ready, Joseph?'

'Ay. Edwin was unable to come, he is in a bad state.'

'I understand. And he was not there yesterday, he has no direct evidence to give.'

'I stayed with him last night. I think he will forgive me. I am all he has now.'

I nodded. 'He could have no greater support.'

'I may see if I can get him to come to the farm with me. I shall go back there with Elizabeth. It will be a familiar place for both of them, with some happy associations at least.'

'Yes. And it may be better to leave London. The pamphleteers will be busy again once this news is out, pox on their jeering cruelty.' I turned to Parsloe. 'Are we in open court with the rest of the cases?'

He shook his head. 'No. I have seen the judge. As it is simply a matter of Elizabeth's discharge he will see us in his chambers when we are all here.'

I took a deep breath. 'Then let's get it over. There's his clerk.' I looked over to where Forbizer's plump assistant was bustling about. I remembered the day he had brought me the news of the judge's change of mind, just before Barak had shouldered his way into my life.

Parsloe, Joseph and Barak accompanied me to the judge's chambers. Forbizer sat, already swathed in his red robe, behind a desk stacked neatly with papers. He looked at us coldly, his eyes lingering on Barak for a moment, then reached out and snapped his fingers.

'The statements.'

I handed them to him. Forbizer read them though, his face expressionless, occasionally pausing to frown and check something. It was all a charade, I knew, he had already heard the story from Parsloe and there was no alternative but to release Elizabeth now. At length he laid down the statements, straightening them so the edges were all in line, and grunted.

'So she was innocent after all,' he said.

'Yes,' I replied.

'She should still have been pressed,' he said coldly. 'That was the correct sentence for a refusal to plead, that would have been justice.' He stroked his grey beard reflectively. 'I have been considering whether to sentence her to some more time in the Hole for her contempt of court.' He looked at Joseph, whom I saw pale. I could not suppress a frown; this was sheer cruelty, revenge for the pressure Barak had put on him. Forbizer shrugged. 'But I have a busy enough assize this morning without bringing her back into court. I will let her go. At least until the rest of her family are tried – she will need to be a witness then.'

'Thank you, your honour,' I said quietly.

Forbizer drew a paper to him and I saw an order of release had already been drawn. He signed it, his lip curling over his beard again in that revolting gesture of contempt, then flicked it across the table to me.

'There you are, Brother Shardlake.' I reached to take it but he placed two fingers on the edge. I looked into his eyes. They were cold and angry.

'Do not cross me again, Brother,' he said quietly, 'or, whatever political connections you might have, I shall make your life a very hell.' He lifted his fingers and I took the order, rose and bowed. We filed silently out of the room.

Outside, Parsloe shook his head wonderingly. 'You'd think he would be glad to see an injustice righted, a girl saved from a cruel death. But he's an odd fellow.'

'The arsehole didn't like having his authority overruled,' Barak said. He had sat down on a bench. He still looked weak and pale. I was glad to sit beside him.

'How overruled?' Parsloe frowned at us. 'And what did he mean by political connections?'

'Jesu knows,' I said hastily. 'Well, Master Parsloe, I am most grateful for your help. We must not keep you.'

The magistrate turned away. I gave Barak a look. 'You nearly had me in trouble there. Parsloe's an old gossip, if you'd told him you'd brought an order from Cromwell to save Elizabeth, that story would be on a hundred pamphlets by tomorrow and Forbizer would be making my life hell as he promised. Though he'll do his best to achieve that anyway if I ever come before him again,' I added gloomily.

'Not my fault lawyers are all such gossips. Besides, I'm knackered. I should be in bed.'

'But sir,' Joseph asked, frowning, 'what did he mean about political influence?'

I hesitated. But Joseph had a right to know, if anyone did. 'Barak and I have been involved in a – a case for Lord Cromwell. It was very important, that was why I had so little time to give Elizabeth. It was his influence made Forbizer grant Elizabeth that stay. But, please, you must tell no one.'

He nodded. 'I will not, sir.' He shook his head. 'The earl. God bless him, God bless all the reforms he has brought.'

I handed him the order. 'There, take that to Newgate and Elizabeth will be released. Would you like us to come with you?'

He smiled. 'This is something I would rather do alone, sir. If you do not mind.'

'I understand.'

Barak and I watched as he left the Bailey, the precious document held carefully in his hand.

'Well,' I said, 'it's all over. What do you want to do now? I must go to Lincoln's Inn, to catch up on business.' I studied him, realizing, now that the parting of our ways was near, that for all his innumerable annoying habits I should miss him.