‘The box was half full. A thick packet.’
Maleverer nodded to the guard. ‘See if they’re there.’
The guard came over and patted Craike from neck to feet. Craike began to sweat. The guard turned to Maleverer with a shake of his head. ‘Nothing, sir.’
Maleverer gave a grimace of disappointment. He nodded at Barak. ‘Now him, just to be sure.’ He watched as Barak submitted to the same treatment, then looked balefully at Craike. ‘Right, you can go. For now. But I find it hard to credit that someone heard you coming upstairs in time to run off without being seen. You are under suspicion, sir. You have long been known for papist leanings.’
Craike’s eyes were wide with fear as he turned and left the room. Maleverer turned his gaze to Barak. ‘You can stay. You were Lord Cromwell’s trusted man once, were you not?’
‘You are well informed, sir,’ Barak said quietly.
‘Yes. I am.’
I struggled to get up. Barak helped me to a chair. Maleverer studied me. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘Yes. A little dizzy, and my head and neck are sore.’
He grunted. ‘Your head sits oddly enough on your body to start with.’ He crossed the room and sat on a corner of his desk, thrusting a booted foot out in front of him and folding his arms. He looked at me, his dark eyes hard and probing. ‘What were these papers you saw?’
‘I looked at the top four. There were more underneath I did not see. The first was a royal family tree. Hand drawn.’
‘Where did it start? Think a moment, get this right.’
‘With Richard Duke of York, father of Edward IV. And his wife, Duchess Cecily Neville.’
Maleverer sighed, a sigh that turned into a bitter laugh. ‘Oh yes. Everything starts with Cecily Neville.’ I noticed a look of strain about his face. ‘Do you think you could draw that tree?’
‘Yes. I think so.’
He nodded. ‘Ay. Lawyers ever had good memories for papers, that they may quote them to ordinary men to puzzle them. Do that today, but in secret, and get Barak there to bring it to me.’
‘I will, sir.’
‘And the others?’
‘There was a scribbled paper that claimed to tell of a legend from the days of Merlin, that our present King would rouse God’s enmity and be driven from the realm.’ I hesitated. ‘It called him the Mouldwarp.’
Maleverer smiled cynically. ‘The Mouldwarp legend. Those fake prophecies were circulated by the hundred during the Pilgrimage of Grace. Sounds like this box may have been full of rubbish. What else?’
‘The third document was written on parchment. It was an official copy of an Act of Parliament. But one I have never heard of. It was called the Titulus Regulus.’
Maleverer’s head jerked forward. ‘What?’ He hesitated, then asked, very quietly, ‘Did you read it?’
‘No. Only the title page. It was from the reign of Richard III.’
Maleverer was silent a moment, running a finger along the edge of his black beard. ‘That was not a real Act of Parliament,’ he said at length. ‘It was a fake.’
‘But the seal –’
‘God’s body, did you not near me! It was a forgery.’ He leaned forward. ‘Produced by the followers of Lambert Simnel, who pretended to be one of the Princes in the Tower and challenged the King’s father.’
It was clear he was lying – mention of that Act had shaken Maleverer to the core.
‘And the fourth document?’ he asked.
‘Different again. An old scrawled paper. It claimed to be a confession. By a man named Edward Blaybourne. It said it was made in contemplation of death, that the world might know of his great sin.’
Maleverer seemed to have stopped breathing for a moment. ‘And that great sin,’ he said very quietly. ‘Did he say what it was?’
‘I had got no further when I was struck down.’
‘Are you sure?’ His voice was scarce above a whisper. I looked back at him steadily.
‘Yes.’
He considered a moment. ‘You said the paper was old. There was no date on it?’
‘Not at the head of the paper, at least.’ I hesitated. ‘Blaybourne, that was the name Master Oldroyd mentioned.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, it was. That glazier was not what he seemed, he was part of the conspiracy to topple the King from his throne this spring.’ He gave me a long hard look. ‘Do you swear you read no more than you have told me, that you do not know what Blaybourne’s sin was? Think before you answer. If you lie you make yourself liable to great penalties.’
‘I will swear on the Bible, sir.’
He stared at me a long moment, then looked away. For a moment he seemed distracted. Then he glared at us again. ‘You fools. If only you had left that box alone, got those papers to me.’ He clenched his big fists. ‘Right, the boy.’
‘The apprentice?’
‘Ay. Barak said you saw him looking at a spot on his master’s bedroom wall, it was there you found that casket. I’d no time to question him yesterday, I was summoned to the Privy Council.’ He nodded to the guard. ‘Let’s have him brought up.’
The guard left. Maleverer sat behind his desk. He picked up a quill and began writing rapidly, pausing occasionally to ask me to confirm a point about the papers I had seen. He was making notes of what I had said. I looked uneasily at Barak, glad I had spoken only the truth.
‘Sir,’ I ventured. ‘May I ask whom these notes are for?’
‘The Privy Council,’ he answered bluntly, without raising his head.
There was a knock at the door. The guard, helped by another, dragged the red-headed apprentice into the room. He was in a terrible state, his cheek and lip both thick and bloodied where Maleverer had struck him. He was dressed only in his shirt, and the long tail, which barely covered his arse, was streaked with faeces, as were the backs of his fat legs. The stink from him was enough to make me recoil.
‘He shit himself on the way,’ the guard said.
Maleverer laughed. ‘Better than doing it in here. Let him go.’ The guards released the apprentice, who staggered a moment then stood looking at Sir William, his protuberant eyes almost starting from his head.
‘Well, boy,’ he said. ‘Ready to talk?’
‘Maister!’ The boy wrung his hands together. ‘Maister, I bain’t done nowt. For mercy.’
‘Stop whining!’ Maleverer raised a big fist. ‘Unless you want some more teeth out.’ The boy gulped and fell into a tremulous silence. ‘Now then, remember these gentlemen were talking to you yesterday, before I came?’
Green cast a fearful look at us. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘The lawyer said he saw you looking at a spot on the wall in Master Oldroyd’s bedroom. Today he went back and found a hole concealed in the wall, with’ – he pointed to the casket – ‘that inside.’ The boy’s gaze swivelled round to the casket, and paled with fear.
‘I see you recognize it,’ he said sharply. ‘Tell me what you know about it.’
Green gulped several times before he could speak. ‘Maister had visitors sometimes, that he would take to his bedroom to talk in secret. Once I – I – looked through the keyhole, out of curiosity – I know it was a wicked thing, t’devil made me do it. I saw them sitting on the bed, reading a whole lot of papers. I saw the hole in the wall, and the box. I heard one of them say these would be enough to do for the – the King…’
‘Did they say the King?’ Maleverer asked, catching the hesitation.
‘No, maister. They said – they said the old Mouldwarp.’ Green shrank back in fear, but Maleverer only nodded.
‘After that I were afeard, I didn’t want to hear no more, I went away.’
‘When was this?’
‘At the start of the year. January, there was snow on the ground.’
‘You should have come to the Council of the North, if you had heard words against the King,’ Maleverer said threateningly.
‘I – I were afeard, sir.’
Maleverer sat looking at Green for a long moment, then spoke quietly. ‘Now, boy, I want you to tell me who those men were. If you lie, you can expect a good taste of the thumbscrews and the rack in York gaol. Do you understand?’