Revelation

'Nonsense. Let's have a look at you.' He undid the tourniquet. A deep gash, three inches long, ran below my shoulder. The red wound, standing out against flesh that was white from being held in the bandage, reminded me horribly of Roger's body, and my head swam again. 'Lie back,' Guy said gently, as his fingers probed the wound. 'I am going to put an unguent on it that hinders infection,' he said. 'Then we must stitch you up. It will be painful, I am afraid.'

'Do what is needed,' I answered, though my stomach churned. 'Barak, have you been to the court?'

'I told the office you were taken ill. The clerks went to the judge and he's agreed to stand your cases over.' Barak hesitated, then continued. 'Harsnet says perhaps you should stand out all of your cases till this business is done. Cranmer or Lord Hertford can smooth the path.'

'It might be a good idea. Some of them at least. Although I must attend Adam Kite's hearing on the fourth. That is too delicate a matter to hand to someone else.'

Guy was applying a thick paste to my arm. It stung. 'Let us get it properly clean before we stitch it. You will be in pain for a while,' he said. 'You will be tired too, as your body works to mend itself

He patted my arm. 'Let's stitch you up. Piers will do it. Do not worry, he has done it many times now. I will supervise.' The boy approached, delved in his bundle and brought out a thin, sharp needle to which black thread was already attached. 'Now remember,' Guy told him, 'slowly and carefully.' The boy put down his bundle and knelt beside me. He smiled. 'I will be gentle, sir,' he said quietly, then brought the needle down to pierce my flesh.

TWO HOURS LATER I was back home, lying on cushions in my parlour. Barak came in. 'Is it arranged?' I asked.

'Yes. The other Requests barrister will take some of the cases. But the clerks were sniffy about it. I think a message from Cranmer or Lord Hertford to the judge would do no harm.'

'I'll write a note to Harsnet. It was good of him to help you carry me over to Westminster Hall, not many coroners would have done that.'

'He's too full of his own Tightness in religion for my liking. He really does seem to think the killer is possessed.' He shook his head. 'I almost begin to wonder if he could be right.'

'You, Jack, afraid of devils?'

'I know. But I can't account for this game of hoodman blind the bastard's playing with us. Attacking Tamasin, and now you, vanishing each time like some spirit of the air. And how does he follow us around without being seen?'

'I have been thinking on that, sitting here.' I sat up, wincing at a stab from my arm. 'The killer first murdered the cottar, and my guess is he thought there would be a mighty hue and cry when he was discovered. But everyone blamed the Welsh whore.'

'Yes.'

'Next he murdered Dr Gurney and left him in that pool. A dramatic killing of a prominent man, likely to cause widespread public horror. Perhaps, too, he thought someone would make the link to Revelation from the way Dr Gurney was killed. But Cranmer hushed it up.'

'So he hadn't made the stir he wanted.'

'No. So then he kills Roger. In a more public manner still. Then he waited for us on the marsh.'

'He would need to be as crafty and calculating as a fox. And patient as a cat.'

'And utterly committed to what he is doing. Remember how he hid out in the marsh when we chased him? But by then he had seen us, marked us. He follows you to your home and me to mine.'

'Without either of us noticing? Come on, I've followed people before today, for Lord Cromwell. It's not easy, especially if there's only one person doing the following. And if it is Goddard, he's supposed to have a great mole on the side of his nose.'

'I know. I haven't worked out yet how he does it.'

'And while we hunt him, he hunts us. And today in the crowd he took an opportunity.'

'Yes.'

'How the fuck could he have known we were at Westminster today?' Barak burst out.

I shook my head. 'Knew we were due at court, perhaps. But how would he know which court I worked at, the timetable?' I bit the side of my finger. 'Unless . . .'

'What?'

'Unless someone is helping him, telling him our movements.'

'Thomas Seymour?' Barak asked, narrowing his eyes. 'I don't trust him.'

'No. Seymour wants him caught. But I believe someone may be helping him. That makes more sense to me than the devil giving him superhuman powers.' I sighed. 'I think he spends his whole life planning, waiting. Endlessly, obsessively, working toward the next time he will break free of all restraints and kill wildly. And make a spectacle, for that is what he likes.'

'That's the old Moor talking,' Barak noted shrewdly. 'In any case, here's another question. He's taking a hell of a risk, attacking you in public. But in that crowd he could have killed you. He could have killed Tamasin too.' His voice ended on a gulp, and I saw how the whole thing had harrowed him to the core. 'Why didn't he?'

'He wants me to withdraw from the case?'

'But they'd only appoint someone else.'

'Yes, they would.'

'It's almost as though the arsehole's taunting us. One thing's sure, you and I will both have to watch every step we take outside. Be glad we've got that man of Harsnet's in the kitchen.' He clenched his fists. 'I spot the bastard who's doing this and I'll kill him with my own hands.'

'No. We need him alive.' I shook my head. 'Is it Goddard, Barak?'

'I don't know.'

'We are so embroiled in the mystery and terror that it is tempting to clutch at any possibility.' I sighed. 'Whoever he is, I pray we catch him before someone else dies horribly.' I frowned. 'Before he shows us again how clever he is, for surely that is part of it.'

Barak's face was still clouded with perplexity and fear. To distract him I said, 'That crowd looked as though it could get nasty.'

'Bonner's after the player companies as well, then,' he said without much interest.

'As this morning showed, he could end by stirring up a hornet's nest. One the size of a city.'

'Ay. There could come a time when the sectaries fight back. Oh, a plague on both sides,' he added irritably.

'Indeed,' I agreed. 'Tell me, by the way, what do you think of Guy's assistant? Young Piers?'

'Didn't much like the look of him. Bit of a creeper and crawler, for all his pleasant manner and pretty face. He's clever, he sewed your arm up well. Trouble was, he looked as though he was quite enjoying it.'

'Guy would say he was learning the detachment of a medical practitioner.' I laughed wearily. 'Remember eighteen months ago, when you were hurt in that fall at York and found yourself an invalid? It is my turn now.'

He smiled.

'We have seen some troubles.'

'That we have.'

Barak still looked preoccupied. 'How is Tamasin?' I asked tentatively.

'Sleeping,' he said. 'She needs to rest. I—'

We were interrupted by a frantic knocking at the door, then urgent voices, Joan's and a man's. Footsteps sounded across the hall. Barak and I looked at each other.

'He's struck again,' I breathed.

But when the door opened it was Daniel Kite who stood there, his hair wild, breathing heavily.

'Sir!' he said. 'You must come! For the love of God, come!'

'What—'

'It's Adam, sir. He has escaped. He's got himself on top of London Wall, out by Bishopsgate, he's calling on the crowds to repent, to forsake the priests and come to God! They'll burn him this time!'

Chapter Twenty

IT WAS A MILE and a half to Bishopsgate, a painful walk through the London throng, my arm in its sling throbbing at every jolt. Daniel and Minnie strode on as fast as possible, Daniel with a set face, Minnie looking as though she would collapse at any moment. A gust of wind brought another squally shower, nearly casting my cap to the ground. I had donned my best robe and cap, for I guessed I might need to exert some authority at Bishopsgate.