Lamentation

I looked at his back, and that ridiculous cloak, wondering what he meant. Then, a little way off, I spied Mary Odell, in a dress of deep blue, the Queen’s badge on her cap, talking to a young man in an orange doublet. She looked bored. I crossed to her, removed my cap and bowed. The gold links of my chain tinkled.

‘Master Shardlake,’ she said, relief in her voice.

The young man, handsome but with calculating eyes, looked slightly offended. He twirled the stem of his silver goblet. I said, ‘Forgive me, sir, but I must speak with Mistress Odell on a matter of business.’

He bowed stiffly and walked away. ‘Thank you, Master Shardlake.’ Mistress Odell spoke with that agreeable touch of humour I remembered. ‘That young fellow is another would-be courtier, keen to talk with someone close to the Queen.’ She grimaced.

‘I am glad to have served,’ I answered with a smile. Then, more earnestly, ‘I need to speak with Lord Parr urgently. I hoped to see him here.’

She glanced back at the Great Gate behind us. ‘He is in the Palace Court, with the Queen and her ladies, waiting for the King to come out with the admiral.’

‘Could you fetch him? I am sorry to ask, but it is very urgent. He is expecting to talk to me today.’

Her face grew serious. ‘I know you would not ask on a trivial matter. Wait, I will try to find him.’

She walked away, her dress swishing on the cobbles, and was allowed by the guards to pass through the Great Gate. I took some more wine and a comfit from a waiter. Looking over the crowd, I saw Serjeant Blower with a couple of aldermen, laughing heartily at some joke. William Cecil passed with an attractive young woman who must be his wife. He nodded to me but did not come over. Then, a little way off, I saw that Wriothesley was now talking to Sir Richard Rich, their heads together. I looked back at the gate. The feather plumes on the guards’ steel helmets stirred in a cooling breeze from the river. The sun was low now.

Lord Parr appeared at the Great Gate, looking out at the throng. He craned his neck, trying to find me in the crowd. He looked tired. I walked over to him.

‘Master Shardlake,’ he said, irritation in his voice. ‘I am needed inside. The King and Queen and the admiral will be out in ten minutes.’

‘I am sorry, my Lord. I would not interrupt, but we must act against Stice tonight. He will be at the house near St Bartholomew’s at nine. Have you heard any more? Has anyone been to the house?’

The old man shifted his weight a little uneasily. ‘My man says Stice came briefly yesterday, but soon left again.’

‘Alone?’

‘Yes.’

I spoke urgently, ‘Then if you could spare a couple of men to go tonight, I will go too. Stice must be questioned. Even if we have no cause — ’

Then Lord Parr said firmly, ‘No.’

‘My Lord?’

‘Things have changed, Master Shardlake. Charles Stice must be left alone.’

‘But — why?’

He leaned in. ‘This is confidential, Shardlake. I have had a direct approach from Richard Rich. He is in bad odour with Gardiner, for several reasons; his speaking up for you at the Privy Council did not help. He has offered to aid the Seymours and Parrs against Norfolk and Gardiner. He has changed sides, following the wind again.’

I looked at him in amazement. ‘The Queen will work with Rich now? But she loathes him.’

‘She will,’ Lord Parr answered firmly. ‘For the sake of the Parr family, and the cause of reform. Rich is on the council, he is important, the King respects his skills, if not the man. As do I.’

‘But — why has he been spying on me? And may he not have information about the Lamentation?’

Lord Parr shook his head firmly. ‘Rich will do nothing to harm the reformers now. Even if he had the book, which I do not believe he ever did.’

‘If he is your ally now should you not ask him?’

Irritation entered the old man’s voice. ‘Our agreement involves my drawing a veil over all his activities this spring and summer. Those are not to be discussed. That includes what he did to Anne Askew, and everything else. As for his spying on you,’ he added more civilly, ‘in due course, when the time is right, I will ask him.’

Stunned, I continued to stare at Lord Parr. He flushed, then burst out with sudden impatience, ‘God’s death, man, do not stand there with your mouth open like a fish. These are the necessities of politics. Rich and his people are to be left alone.’

And with that, the Queen’s Chamberlain turned away, back to the Great Gate.

I stepped back, feeling as though I had been punched in the stomach. So Rich was finally turning his coat. And, I thought wearily, Lord Parr was right; these were the necessities of politics. Why should it matter to any of them what Rich had done to me? I looked across to where he stood talking to Wriothesley; Wriothesley’s face was red, they were arguing. The alliance between them, which had led to the torture of Anne Askew, was over now.