We halted to let the cart pass. There were a dozen prisoners within, hands bound behind them and ropes around their necks. I reflected Elizabeth might have been in there, might still be the following week. The end of the felons' last journey would be the big multiple gallows at Tyburn, where the cart would halt while the ropes were secured to hooks on the gallows. Then the cart's tail would be let down, the horses led on, and the prisoners be left hanging by their necks, to strangle slowly unless friends pulled on their heels to break their necks. I shuddered.
Most of the condemned were making their last journey with heads bowed, but one or two smiled and nodded at the crowd with terrible forced jollity. I saw the old woman and her son, who had been convicted of horse stealing – the young man was staring ahead, his face twitching, while his mother leaned against him, her grey head resting on his chest. The cart passed creaking by.
'We'd better get on,' Barak said, shouldering his way through the crowd. 'I've never liked that sight,' he said quietly. 'I've pulled the legs of an old friend at Tyburn before now, ended his last dance.' He gave me a serious look. 'When d'you want me to go down that well?'
'I'd say tonight, but there's the banquet. Tomorrow, without fail.'
As we rode a wherry downriver I felt guilty. Each day's delay was another day in the Hole for Elizabeth, another day of desperate anxiety for Joseph. The bulk of Westminster Hall loomed into view and I forced my mind to the Bealknap case. One thing at a time, I thought, or I must go mad. Barak looked at me curiously and I realized I had whispered the words aloud.
AS ALWAYS DURING the law term, Westminster Palace Yard was thronged with people. We shoved through them into the hall, where under the cavernous roof lawyers and clients, booksellers and sightseers, trod the ancient flagstones. I stretched to see over the heads of the spectators crowded at the King's Bench partition. Inside, a row of barristers stood waiting at the wooden bar, beyond which lay the great table where the court officials sat with their mounds of papers. Under the tapestry of the royal arms the judge sat on his high chair, listening to a barrister with a bored expression. I was disconcerted to see the judge was Heslop, a lazy-minded fellow who I knew had bought a number of monastic properties. He was unlikely to favour a case against a fellow man of spoil. I clenched my fists, reflecting that today I had drawn a low card in the gamble of the law. Nonetheless, after the previous evening's labour I was ready to present what should have been conclusive arguments, all else being equal.
'Master Shardlake.' I gave a start and turned to find Vervey, one of the Common Council attorneys, at my elbow. He was a clerkly, serious man of my own age, a stalwart reformer. I bowed. Evidently he had been sent to keep an eye on the case; it was important to the council.
'Heslop is fair racing through the cases,' he said. 'We shall soon be on, Master Shardlake. Bealknap is here.' He nodded to where my adversary stood leaning on the bar with the other advocates, sleek in his robes.
I forced a smile and lifted my satchel from my shoulders. 'I am ready. Wait here, Barak.'
Barak stared at the attorney. 'Nice day for a bit of devilment,' he said cheerily.
I went through the partition, bowed to the bench and took a place at the bar. Bealknap turned round and I bowed briefly. A few minutes later the current case ended and the parties, one smiling and the other scowling, passed through the bar. 'Common Council of London and Bealknap,' an usher called.
I opened by saying the cesspit in dispute had been badly built and the sewage leaking into the tenement next door was making life miserable for the inhabitants. I spoke of the ill construction of Bealknap's conversion. 'The turning of the old monasteries into such mean and dangerous habitations is against the common weal as well as the City ordinances,' I concluded.
Heslop, who was sitting back comfortably in his chair, gave me a bored look. 'This is not the Court of Chancery, Brother. What are the legal issues at stake?'
I saw Bealknap nod complacently, but I was ready. 'That was by way of introduction, your honour. I have here half a dozen cases confirming the sovereignty of the Common Council over monastic properties in cases of nuisance.' I handed up copies and summarized their arguments. As I spoke I saw a glazed look had come over Heslop's face and my heart sank. When a judge looks thus it means he has already made up his mind. I pressed on manfully, however. When I finished, Heslop grunted and nodded to my opponent.
'Brother Bealknap, what do you say?'
He bowed and rose. With his lean features newly shaved and a confident smile on his face, he looked every inch the respectable lawyer. He nodded and smiled as though to say, I am an honest fellow who will give you the truth of this.
'Your honour,' he began, 'we live in a time of great changes for our city. The going down of the monasteries has brought a glut of land to the market, rents are low and men of enterprise must make the best shift we can to turn our investments to a profit. Otherwise more monastic sites will go to ruin and become the haunt of vagabonds.'
Heslop nodded. 'Ay, and then the City will have the trouble of dealing with them.'
'I have a case that I think will settle the matter to your honour's satisfaction.' Bealknap passed a paper up to the judge. 'Friars Preachers v. the Prior of Okeham,' your honour. A case of nuisance brought against the prior, remitted to the king's council as the monastery was under his jurisdiction. As all monastic houses are now. I submit therefore that when a question relating to the original charter arises, it must be submitted to the king.'
Heslop read slowly, nodding as he did so. I looked out over the crowd. Then I froze as I saw a richly dressed man, a retainer on either side, standing near the bar. The rest of the crowd had moved a few paces away from him, as if afraid of approaching too close. Sir Richard Rich, in a fur-lined gown, staring at me with those grey eyes, cold as an icy sea.
Heslop looked up. 'Yes, Brother Bealknap, I agree with you. I think this case settles the matter.'
I rose. 'Your honour, if I may answer. The cases I passed to you are both more numerous and later in time-'
Heslop shook his head. 'I have the right to choose which precedent best expresses the common law and Brother Bealknap's case is the only one that deals directly with the issue of royal authority-'
'But Brother Bealknap bought this house, your honour, a contract intervenes-'
'I have a full list today, Brother. Judgement for the plaintiff, with costs.'
We left the court, Bealknap smiling. I glanced over to where Rich had stood, but he had disappeared. It was no surprise to see him at Westminster Hall, his own Office of Augmentations was nearby, but why had he stood staring at me like that! I walked over to where Vervey and Barak stood together. I reddened at the thought that Barak had now seen me lose two cases, Elizabeth's and Bealknap's. 'You bring me bad luck when you come to watch me,' I told him grumpily to cover my embarrassment.
'That was a monstrous decision,' Vervey said indignantly. 'It made a nonsense of the law.'
'Yes, it did. Sir, I am afraid my advice must be to take this matter to Chancery, expensive as that will be. Otherwise that judgement gives carte blanche to all purchasers of monastic properties in London to flout the City regulations-'