Revelation

'Nor I.'

We both jumped violently at a loud hammering on the door to the street. We exchanged glances. As Guy crossed to open it, the inner door opened and Piers came in. I wondered whether he had been listening outside again.

'Who is it?' Guy called out.

'It is I, Barak!'

Guy threw open the door. I caught a glimpse of Sukey, tied to the rail beside Genesis. She was breathing heavily, Barak must have ridden here fast. There was no sign of drunkenness about him today, he was sober and alert, his expression hard and serious. He stepped inside.

'There has been another killing,' he said. 'There's some strange mystery about this one. Dr Malton, sir, can you come with us?'

Chapter Thirty-one

'WHO?' I ASKED.

Barak glanced at Piers. Guy turned to the boy. 'Would you fetch my horse to the front of the house?' he asked. Piers hesitated for a moment, then went out. Barak looked between us. His face was set hard.

'It's Lockley's wife.'

'He has killed a woman?' Guy gasped.

'Sir Thomas sent a man round to keep guard at the inn. He was too late. He found her lying on the inn floor. She's been mutilated. The message said something strange, something about poisoned air. We're to join Harsnet there at once.'

'What about Lockley?'

'I don't know.'

Through the window I saw Piers leading Guy's old white mare round to the front. We went outside.

'May I come too?' Piers asked Guy as we mounted.

'No, Piers, you have studying to do. You should have done it last night.' The apprentice stepped back, an expression of angry sulkiness momentarily crossing his face.

'How much does that boy know about what has been happening?' I asked Guy as we rode quickly up the street.

'Only that there has been a series of murders. He could not fail to see that,' Guy added with a touch of asperity, 'as he has been helping me at the autopsies. He knows he must hold his tongue.'

'You know he listens at doors,' I said. Guy did not reply.

WE RODE ON rapidly, up to Smithfield and on to Charterhouse Square. The square was deserted except for two men standing at the door of the inn, under the sign of the Green Man. One was Harsnet and the other was a tall man carrying a sword, who was coughing into a handkerchief. I saw some of the beggars standing by the chapel, looking on from a distance but not daring to approach. We pulled up and tied the horses to the rail next to Harsnet's. Guy went over to the tall man. 'What ails you?' he asked quietly.

The man lowered his handkerchief. He was in his twenties, with a neat black beard. He stared for a moment at Guy's dark face, then said, 'I do not know. I came here two hours ago. I knocked but could get no answer.' He coughed violently again. 'The shutters were all closed so I broke in. There is a woman lying on the floor, she's — mutilated.' He spluttered noisily. 'There's something in the air in there, it's poisonous, it burns at my throat.'

'Let me see,' Guy said. He gently opened the man's mouth and looked in. 'Something's irritated your throat,' he said. 'Sit down on the step, try to breathe easy.'

'It was horrible. Like something grasping to take your breath.'

I looked at the door: the lock was smashed. The guard had pulled it shut again when he came out.

'Have you been inside?' I asked Harsnet.

'No. I looked in — one sniff was enough; it's like this fellow said, like something trying to rip your throat out.' He looked at Guy. 'How do you come to be here, sir?'

'I was with Dr Malton when the message came,' I said. 'Dr Malton may be able to help us. Guy, what do you think can have happened to the air?'

'There is only one way to see.' He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, held it to his nose and threw the door wide open. I took a step back as something sharp and stinging caught my nostrils. Guy went in. With the shutters drawn the interior was dark. I made out a large pale shape, spotted with darker patches, lying under the open serving hatch. A body.

Guy stepped rapidly to the shutters, throwing them open. A draught of fresh air was immediately drawn into the room with the light. We looked in from the doorway. I saw the tavern was in chaos, overturned chairs and tables everywhere. The pale shape under the serving hatch was indeed Mistress Bunce, lying face down on the stone floor. Her coif had been removed, revealing her long dark hair. Her dress had been pulled up to beneath her armpits, and her underskirt torn off; it lay bundled up under one of the tables. Her plump, pale body was half naked, her arms tied behind her with rope.

'Shit.' Barak breathed.

I saw red weals at her wrists where the poor woman had struggled to free herself, but the knots were tight. There was another piece of cloth lying beside her face, something dark red on top of it.

'Dear God, what has he done to her?' Harsnet breathed. I saw his hands were clenched tight.

Guy crossed to the body and stood looking down at it. Quickly, he crossed himself. Harsnet, watching from the doorway, narrowed his eyes at the gesture. 'It is safe to come in,' Guy said quietly. 'The fumes are dispersing. But put handkerchiefs to your noses and mouths, take shallow breaths.'

Harsnet and Barak and I drew out our handkerchiefs and stepped cautiously inside. 'What was that stuff?' Barak asked.

'Vitriol,' Guy answered. 'In a very powerful concentration.'

We looked down at the body. The white flesh on the trunk and legs bore big red marks that looked like burns. To my horror, half the woman's posterior had been burned away, leaving a huge, monstrous red wound. Yet there was no blood around her, only a pool of colourless liquid.

'What is this vitriol?' Harsnet asked Guy. The air was much clearer, but there still a faint harsh tang. 'For God's sake, what did he do to her?' His voice rose.

'Vitriol is a liquid that burns and dissolves everything it touches,' Guy answered grimly. 'It is well known, alchemists make it up frequently to dissolve stone. They think it has special powers because gold is one of the few things it cannot destroy. It must have taken hours to do this, using repeated applications.' Then Guy did something I had never seen him do before, no matter what awful things he had to look upon. He shuddered violently.

Harsnet bent to the liquid under the body. 'What's this?' He put out a finger.

'Don't touch it!' Guy shouted, and Harsnet quickly stepped away. Guy took a spatula from the pocket of his robe and touched it to the liquid. There was a faint hiss and it began to smoke. 'Vitriol,' he said. 'See how it has eaten into the wood. It has even marked the stone flags.'

'If it's so poisonous,' I asked, 'how did he manage to wait here for hours?'

'I suspect it was night, and he had those large shutters giving on to the yard open. Even so he would need to keep going over to the window.'

Barak was looking through the serving hatch. Cups and pewter goblets stood on a draining board; more lay in the washing bowl. It seemed the killer had come just after the tavern closed; perhaps he had been a late customer.

'Janley!' Harsnet called. The guard entered reluctantly, staring with horrified eyes at the mutilated corpse. 'Search the rest of the building,' Harsnet ordered. 'Go on!' Reluctantly, his hand on his sword, Janley opened a door to the inner chambers and stepped through.

'Was it Lockley?' I breathed. 'Is he the killer?'

'Perhaps Lockley's been killed too. Perhaps he's in another room,' Barak said. He wiped his brow, he was sweating.

'And the fifth angel poured out his vial upon the seat of the beast.' I quoted from the Book of Revelation, the chapters we all knew now. ‘And his kingdom waxed dark; and they gnawed their tongues for pain, and blasphemed the God of Heaven for sorrow and pain of their sores, and repented not of their deeds.' Guy bent and, very carefully, turned the brutalized body over.. He let out a groaning sigh. I made myself look at Mistress Bunce's face. The lower half was covered with blood. I will never forget the eyes, wide open, bulging from her face in her last horror and agony. Guy felt her jaw, then took out his spatula and gently touched the piece of cloth beside her face, and the red thing on top of it. He took a corner of the cloth and covered it. 'What. . .' I asked.