I looked into his heavy, heartless face. For him it was just a task, another job. He gave me another quick, harsh smile, then left. Barak looked at the closed door. ‘Jesu. He’s a hard one. Hard as Lord Cromwell.’
I SLEPT LITTLE that night. I lay awake thinking of what was coming to Broderick, remembering his mocking accusations that I was keeping him alive for the torturer. And for Bernard Locke it would have come already. Maleverer’s heartlessness made me shudder. In the small hours I got up, quietly so as not to wake Barak, who was snoring gently, and crossed to the window. The night was pitch dark, a high wind hammering raindrops against the panes. I wondered if Broderick was awake in his cell, perhaps trying to steel himself for the rack. A wet beech-leaf blew against the glass. Curled up on itself, it looked like an accusing finger.
MALEVERER CAME TO the inn again after lunch. Once again Barak and Giles and I were playing cards. We were all in gloomy mood, for it was raining and blowing hard as ever, a real autumn gale. The innkeeper had said it was unusual for the wind to blow strongly from the southeast in October; but as long as it did, we could not set sail.
‘Leave us,’ he said curtly to the others. ‘I would speak with Brother Shardlake alone.’
They went out. Maleverer threw himself into Barak’s chair. It creaked loudly. He gave me that cold smile.
‘You were right about Broderick,’ he said without preliminaries.
‘How?’
‘He was in a weak state. I could see that when they brought him in. I had a room set up in the gaol, the rack in a corner and irons heating in the fire, so he could see what was coming.’ He spoke as though he were describing preparations for a dinner. ‘Radwinter brought him eagerly. Yet Broderick hardly looked at the implements, and when I said he’d feel their bite and singe unless he talked he only urged me to get it over. He’s not short of courage.’ Maleverer compressed his lips. ‘So I did, I put him on the rack and because I couldn’t trust any of the gaolers to hear what he might spill I sent them out, and Radwinter and I turned the wheels ourselves. Broderick was silent for a good minute, then he screamed and passed out, fainted clean away.’ Maleverer shook his head. ‘It took us several minutes to rouse him. I was worried, and Radwinter suddenly turned nervous, he said we should stop.’
‘He had a prisoner die from his attentions once,’ I said. ‘Archbishop Cranmer was not pleased with him.’
‘If Broderick died under my care before he talked, the King would have my balls.’ Maleverer looked at me hard. ‘What do you think is the matter with him?’
‘Weakness and exhaustion. From his imprisonment, the poisoning, then being stuck in that carriage for days.’
He grunted. ‘You were supposed to make sure he was in good health.’
‘I did all I could.’
‘Well, I’ll take care of him myself now so he’s in a better state when we get to the Tower. Feed him up. Radwinter won’t dare defy me. Your job there is over.’
‘Archbishop Cranmer-’
‘My orders come from the Privy Council.’
‘I see.’ So that was it. My duties were over. I could wash my hands of Broderick. Like Pontius Pilate.
‘Sir William,’ I ventured. ‘Do you know how long we will be in Hull?’
For answer he nodded at the window. ‘There’s a boat waiting, and as well as Broderick there’s several officials who need to get back to London faster than they can ride. We must wait till the weather clears, though, for we’d be no faster on the roads in this rain, especially with Broderick in a carriage.’ He glowered at the rain-spattered window.
‘May I still go on the boat?’ Now my escort duties were over there was no need for me to return to London quickly, but I desperately wanted to go home, and there were Giles and Barak to think of. I thought he would refuse, and was surprised when he nodded.
‘Yes.’
‘I wonder, sir, when we go, might Master Wrenne go with us?’ I hesitated as I remembered an earlier promise. ‘And Mistress Reedbourne?’
He shrugged. ‘I care not. Talk to the Chamberlain’s office if you want. There are places, but the officials will want paying.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me till you’re safe in London,’ he said. There was something secret and mocking in his look as he went out. He left me feeling uneasy.
Chapter Thirty-seven
THE BAD WEATHER continued. Often it was raining hard and even when it was dry a strong wind blew, sending clouds scudding across the sky, always from the southeast. No boat could set out. We heard the King was visiting the mudflats on the other side of Hull river in pursuit of his idea of fortifying the city. He would be wet and windblown; he cannot command the weather after all, I thought sourly.
We became bored, for all that the inn was comfortable. It was worst for Barak. Still limited in how far he could walk, he was morose and irritable, only cheering up when Tamasin called. Then, from tact, I would leave the room and sit with Giles awhile. Since our talk in Leconfield Tamasin had been cold with me, and with Giles too; she seemed to blame us for Jennet Marlin’s death, murderess though the woman had been. When Giles and I went to the Chamberlain’s office, he had paid a great deal of money to secure places on the boat for Tamasin and Barak as well as ourselves, but although Barak had been effusively grateful, Tamasin had only thanked us in a cold voice.
Giles had taken to going for little walks around the town on the rare occasions when the weather was dry, and one evening as we sat in his room he told me what he had been doing. He had seemed well for some time now; the restful life here was good for him, for all it bored us.
‘I have been getting to know some of the local lawyers,’ he said. ‘They live in a district down by the river. They even have a little library there.’
I looked up with interest. These last few days I had often wished I had something to read.
‘It isn’t up to much,’ Giles continued. ‘But they have a lot of old casebooks. I have been looking through them to pass the time. It is in one of the barrister’s houses, other lawyers may use it for a small fee.’
‘Even the barrister’s opponents?’
‘Ay. They must make such shift as they can up here, far from London. It is strange; I will never practise again and now I can read cases with interest and even amusement at the fumes and scratchings men make between each other.’
‘It is hard,’ I said gently. ‘What you must face.’
He looked at me seriously. ‘Not so hard now. I raged when I first realized what was wrong with me but I have had months to come to terms with what must be. I will be content so long as I can resolve matters in London. Mend that old quarrel with Martin. Ensure that when I die my name and family will not be forgotten, that I can leave a legacy to my kin.’ Unconsciously he clenched a big fist, his emerald ring glinting.
‘We will find Martin Dakin,’ I said soothingly, although I was uncomfortably reminded of what Maleverer had said.
Giles nodded. ‘Thank you.’ He looked out of the window. ‘The rain has stopped. Come, put on your lawyer’s robe and I will take you to the library.’
‘Jesu, I hope the weather will change soon. How I want to leave!’
He looked at me curiously. ‘You will see that prisoner again on the boat? Broderick.’
‘Ay.’ I had told Giles that Maleverer had relieved me of my duties there. ‘I hope he is not in too bad a state.’