‘Ay. By God, Lady Rochford is terrified of what we might say. Is there something between the Queen and Culpeper? Or is she afraid for her own position?’
‘Jesu knows,’ Tamasin said. ‘All I know is that the servants say there is bad blood between Culpeper and Francis Dereham.’
‘Yes, Dereham,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘Another old friend of the Queen’s.’
‘Are Culpeper and the Queen and Lady Rochford all mad?’ Barak asked.
‘Lady Rochford seems – well, not quite normal. And Culpeper seemed a wantwit.’
‘A lecherous preening creature.’ Tamasin shuddered and I remembered Barak saying he had tried subjecting her to his attentions. ‘And Queen Catherine is a giddy girl,’ she added. ‘But not so giddy surely that she would lie with Culpeper.’
‘What now?’ Barak asked me. ‘Do we keep quiet, or tell Maleverer?’
‘We keep quiet. I do not think Lady Rochford can be involved with the stolen papers, or even know what they are.’
‘I asked some questions of the servants,’ Tamasin said, ‘about Culpeper’s background. He has been at the court four years. He returns to his family home occasionally. It is in Goudhurst, in Kent.’
‘Thank you, Tamasin.’ I spoke neutrally, but this was interesting news.
‘I must go now. Mistress Marlin will be wondering where I am.’ She curtsied and walked away, steadily enough.
‘She did well,’ I said to Barak.
‘Ay. Though all this has upset her. Do you know what she said yesterday? She said if only she could find who her father was, if he was a high official, he could protect us. I told her even if he was you can’t go higher than the King. She loses her sense over that topic.’
I nodded. ‘And as we have said, it could be anyone. It was interesting what she said about Culpeper being from Kent. I wonder if Goudhurst is near to Blaybourne village, whether someone called Blaybourne has links to the rebels.’
‘’Tis far from Kent to York,’ Barak said. He looked behind me. ‘But here comes one who has made that journey.’
I turned. Sergeant Leacon was walking rapidly towards us, his face set. ‘God’s death,’ I muttered. ‘What now?’
The sergeant came up and saluted. As at the refectory, his manner was cold, formal. ‘I have been looking everywhere for you, Master Shardlake,’ he said. ‘Sir William Maleverer wants you right away. He is with Sir Edward Broderick, at his cell.’
‘Broderick?’ In the press of events since last night I had forgotten him.
‘There has been another attempt on his life.’
Chapter Twenty-five
TELLING BARAK to wait for me at the lodging house, I followed Leacon as he marched rapidly into the complex of monastic buildings. ‘What happened?’ I asked.
The young sergeant did not break his stride. ‘Radwinter took one of the exercise breaks Sir William allows him. He had just watched the prisoner eat. Ten minutes later the soldiers guarding Broderick heard a retching sound and found him lying on the floor, gasping and vomiting. The man who found him called me and I ordered some beer and salt fetched. I mixed them and forced him to drink, then sent a man to fetch Dr Jibson. He is there now, with Sir William. Sir William is in no good temper.’
‘You did well.’
He did not reply; again I sensed that for some reason Sergeant Leacon had become hostile to me. We walked down the corridor, our footsteps ringing on the stone flags. The door of Broderick’s cell was open. It was crowded, although like the cell at the castle it was now filled with the stink of vomit. Two soldiers were holding Broderick in a sitting position on the bed. He seemed half conscious. One of the soldiers held his jaw open while Dr Jibson poured a flagon of liquid down his throat. Radwinter stood looking on, his eyes full of fury; and something else. Puzzlement? Maleverer stood next to him, arms folded, frowning mightily. He turned to me angrily.
‘Where have you been?’ he snapped.
‘I – I have been at Master Wrenne’s, Sir William.’
‘Come outside. No, you stay there,’ he barked at Radwinter as he made to follow. He led me back out of the cell. He folded his arms again and looked at me.
‘It’s happened again,’ he said.
‘Poison?’
‘Radwinter oversaw the preparation of his food in the King’s kitchen as usual today, brought it here and watched Broderick eat. Ten minutes later Broderick is writhing on the floor. Radwinter swears his food could not have been interfered with. He prepared it himself. Sergeant Leacon bears out what Radwinter says. And in that case –’ he set his lips hard – ‘I cannot see how anyone but Radwinter can have poisoned him.’
‘But if he did, Sir William, why incriminate himself so obviously?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied in angry perplexity.
‘And if not him, then who? Who knows Broderick is here?’
Maleverer shook his head angrily. ‘Quite a few, by now. Word has got around.’
‘Sergeant Leacon said Radwinter left right after feeding the prisoner,’ I said. ‘He went for some exercise. Could someone have got to him then?’
‘Past the soldiers? And forced him to take poison?’ he snapped. ‘Where else could the poison have been but in his food?’
‘Perhaps he was not forced to take it,’ I said. ‘Perhaps he wanted to.’
Maleverer turned at a commotion in the doorway. The soldiers were dragging Broderick outside now, the heavy chains securing his ankles clanking. They brought Radwinter’s chair and sat him on it. Dr Jibson followed. The physician was in his shirtsleeves, his cuffs stained and his plump face red. ‘I can’t see properly in there,’ he explained.
I looked at Broderick. His face was ghastly and he breathed in ragged gasps. His eyes flashed at me angrily for a moment. Radwinter stepped out, and Maleverer called him over.
‘I have been telling Master Shardlake,’ he snapped. ‘I can see no answer to this but that you poisoned this man.’
Radwinter gave me a look of sheer evil. ‘He will say nothing to disabuse you of that.’
‘Master Shardlake does not agree with me.’
Radwinter looked taken aback. He eyed me. ‘I swear I did not poison him,’ he said. ‘God’s death, why would I place myself in such a position of suspicion?’
‘Don’t chop word for word with me, you bag of shit!’ Maleverer stepped forward, looming over the gaoler. Radwinter stepped back and for the first time I saw him look afraid.
‘I know nothing, Sir William, I swear.’
I looked over his shoulder. The physician had forced yet more beer down Broderick’s throat and he retched again, a thin trail of yellow liquid spilling from his mouth.
‘Is it all out?’ Maleverer asked the physician.
‘I think so. It was good that soldier thought of making him sick at once.’
‘May I look in the cell?’ I asked Maleverer.
‘What for?’
‘I do not know. Only – if Master Radwinter had left the cell ten minutes before Broderick fell on the floor, what if Broderick took something himself?’
‘There is nothing in that cell!’ Radwinter snapped. ‘It is searched daily. Where would he get poison?’
‘Oh, look if you must,’ Maleverer said wearily.
I went into the empty cell. I stared at the stoneflagged floor, stained with patches of vomit. I wrinkled my nose against the smell as I paced to and fro, looking for something, anything unusual, Maleverer and Radwinter watching me from the door like two black crows.
There was nothing on the floor apart from Broderick’s wooden bowl, spoon and cup, all empty. Dr Jibson could take those away and examine them anew, for all the good that might do. The only furniture was a stool, the bed and an empty chamberpot. I pulled the stained blankets from the bed and felt the straw mattress.
Then I saw something white, wedged between the bed and the wall. I reached and pulled it out.
‘What’s that?’ Maleverer asked sharply.
‘A handkerchief,’ I said. To my astonishment it was a lady’s handkerchief, light and lacy and folded into a square.
‘Is that all?’