Dissolution

My back ached. For a long time we were silent as dusk fell outside and the room slowly darkened. It was not a comfortable quietude. I was glad I had spoken so vigorously to Mark and I believed all I had said about the future I thought we were building. Yet as I sat there Jerome's words came back to me, and his face, and my lawyer's instinct told me that he had not been lying. But if everything he had said was true, then Reform was being built on an edifice of lies and monstrous brutality. And I was part of it all. Lying there, I was horrified. Then a thought came to comfort me. If Jerome was mad he might have come truly to believe in something that was only a fantasy in his head. I had known such things before. I told myself that must be the answer; what was more, I should cease from agonizing over this; I needed rest and a clear head for the morrow. In such ways do men of conscience comfort themselves against their doubts.

CHAPTER 17

All at once Mark was shaking me awake; I must have fallen asleep lying there.

'Sir, Brother Guy is here.'

The infirmarian stood looking down at me; hastily I got to my feet.

'I have a message, Commissioner. The abbot has the land deeds you requested and some correspondence he wishes to send out. He is on his way.'

'Thank you, Brother.' He looked at me intently, fingering the rope at the waist of his habit with long brown fingers.

'I will shortly be going to the night service for Simon Whelplay. Commissioner, I feel I should tell what I suspect about his poisoning to the abbot.'

I shook my head. 'Not yet. His killer does not know murder is suspected and that may give me an advantage.'

'But how am I to say he died? The abbot will ask.'

'Say you are unsure.'

He passed a hand across his tonsure. When he spoke again his voice was agitated.

'But, sir, knowledge of how he died should guide our prayers. We should be asking the Lord to receive the soul of a slain man, not a sick one. He died without shrift or housel, that alone is a danger to his soul.'

'God sees all. The boy will be admitted to heaven or no as He wills.'

The infirmarian looked set to argue further, but just then the abbot entered. His old servant followed behind, carrying a big leather satchel. Abbot Fabian looked grey and worn, peering at us through tired eyes. Brother Guy bowed to his superior and left us.

'Commissioner, I have brought the deeds of the four land sales made this last year. Also some correspondence – business letters and some personal letters from the monks. You asked to see correspondence before it went out.'

'Thank you. Put the satchel on the table.'

He hesitated, rubbing his hands together nervously. 'May I ask how things went in the town today? Did you make progress? The smugglers-'

'Some progress. My lines of enquiry seem to multiply, my lord Abbot. I also saw Jerome this afternoon.'

'I trust he was not – not-'

'Oh, he insulted me again, naturally. I think he should remain in his cell for the present.'

The abbot coughed. 'I have had a letter myself,' he said hesitantly. 'I have put it with those others; it is from an old friend, a monk at Bisham. He has friends at Lewes Priory. They say terms of surrender are being negotiated with the vicar general.'

I smiled wryly. 'The monks of England have their own communication networks, it was ever so. Well, my lord, I think I may say Scarnsea is not the only house with a mischievous history that Lord Cromwell thinks would be better closed.'

'This is not a mischievous house, sir.' There was a slight tremble in his deep voice. 'Things went well and peacefully until Commissioner Singleton came!' I fixed him with an affronted look. He bit his lip and swallowed and I realized I was looking at a frightened man, near the edge of his reason. I felt his sense of humiliation, his confusion as his world shook and trembled about him.

He raised a hand. 'I am sorry, Master Shardlake, forgive me. This is a difficult time.'

'Nonetheless, my lord, you should mind your words.

'I apologize again.'

'Very well.'

He collected himself. 'Master Goodhaps has made ready to leave tomorrow morning, sir, after Commissioner Singleton's funeral. The night service will begin in an hour, followed by the vigil. Will you attend?'

'Will there be a vigil over the two bodies together? The commissioner and Simon Whelplay?'

'No, as one was in orders and the other a layman the services will be separate. The brethren will be divided between the two vigils.'

'And will stand over the bodies all night, with blessed candles lit, their purpose to ward off evil spirits?'

He hesitated. 'That is the tradition.'

'A tradition disapproved in the king's Ten Articles of Religion. Candles are allowed for the dead only in remembrance of God's grace. Commissioner Singleton would not have wanted superstitious powers imputed to his funeral candles.'

'I will remind the brethren of the provision.'

'And the rumours from Lewes – keep those to yourself.' I nodded in dismissal and he left. I looked after him thoughtfully.