Lamentation

There was a thud, a sudden yelp, then the dog flew out the doorway and landed at my feet, lifeless, its head at a horrible angle, its neck broken by a kick.

I jumped back, my hand going to my knife as I peered into the darkness of the doorway. Shadows moved within. I had been too careless. If this was Daniels and Cardmaker they could have me dead in an instant. But then, to my amazement, Isabel Slanning stepped out into the street. Two men in servants’ dress followed her; one I recognized as the man she usually brought with her to consultations at Lincoln’s Inn. She stood before me, staring right into my face, the moonlight making strange play with her features, those overlarge eyes glinting.

Her expression was triumphant. ‘So, Master Shardlake,’ she said, her voice a vicious hiss. ‘I was right! You not only ride with Master Coleswyn, you dine with him. He calls you a godly man, you are his confederate — ’

‘Madam,’ I said, aware that my voice was shaking with shock. ‘I told you before, lawyers observe the courtesies with each other. They are not consumed with blind hatred as you are!’ Behind her back, I caught a flash of white teeth as one of her servants smiled.

Isabel jerked her head back. ‘I, Master Shardlake, am concerned with justice! A woman alone, faced with a confederacy of heretics! I am sure, now, that the so-called architect who came this morning to represent me is in league with my brother, too!’

‘You picked him!’

‘It is part of my brother’s plot.’ She waved a skinny finger in my face. ‘But I have time, and will spare no energy in my search for justice! This is not the first time I have waited outside that man’s house in the evening, to see who comes and goes. And tonight I see — you!’ The last word was an accusing shout. It occurred to me again that Isabel Slanning was more than a little mad.

She smiled; I had never seen Isabel smile before and I had no wish to see it again — a wide grimace, splitting her face and exposing long yellow teeth. There was something savage in it. ‘Well, Serjeant Shardlake!’ Her voice rose. ‘You will represent me no more! I will find a lawyer who will prosecute my case honestly, without heretic conspiracy! And I will write to the Lincoln’s Inn authorities, telling them what you have done!’

I could have laughed. There could be no better news than that I was to be rid of Isabel. As for a complaint based on such evidence of wrongdoing as she possessed, it would have even Treasurer Rowland sniggering over his desk. I said, ‘If your new lawyer will get in touch with me, mistress, I will happily give him the papers and answer any queries he has. And now I must get home.’

Philip’s door opened. The noise had brought him and his terrified-looking wife to find out what was going on. He stared in amazement at Isabel. ‘Brother Shardlake, what is happening?’

‘No matter,’ I said. ‘Mistress Slanning has, I am delighted to say, just sacked me. Mistress Coleswyn, your husband said you thought someone was watching the house. It was this mad beldame.’

Isabel pointed at me again, her finger trembling. ‘I will have you! I will have you all!’ Then she turned and walked away, her servants following.

Ethelreda Coleswyn had started to cry. Philip said, ‘All right, all right, my love, it was only that poor madwoman.’

‘She will not be back,’ I added reassuringly. Nonetheless, my eye was drawn to the poor dead dog. That must have been a vicious kick to break its neck like that, and Isabel had been standing in front of her servants in the doorway. It was she who had done it.

Chapter Twenty-three

That night I slept deeply, but woke early with a mind full of fears and discontents. I recalled Isabel Slanning’s savage fury; I was sure she would like to serve me as she had that unfortunate dog.

There was a knock at the door and Martin entered, bearing towels and hot water, his face flatly expressionless as usual. ‘God give you good morrow, Master,’ he said. ‘It is another fine, warm day.’

‘Good morrow, Martin. Long may it continue.’ I looked at his solid back as he laid the bowl on the table, wondering what went on inside that head of close-cropped fair hair. What had he been looking for in my desk that time? And Josephine said he had been constantly enquiring about my friends and contacts when he first came. Trying to nose into my life. Yet Martin, as I had reminded Josephine, needed to know all about me if he were to perform his duties as steward. His old master, another barrister, had given me a glowing reference; Martin and Agnes had been with the man for ten years, and were only leaving because he was retiring and moving to the country. I did not have a forwarding address, so could not get in touch with him.

Martin turned and gave me his tight little smile. ‘Is there anything else, sir?’

‘No, Martin. Not this morning.’