Dark Fire (34 page)

‘Thank you for coming, sir. I don’t know what to do. She’d been the same since the trial, wouldn’t utter a word. Then they took that old horse thief away
yesterday.’ He took out the handkerchief Elizabeth had given him and wiped his brow. ‘As soon as the woman was taken out they say Lizzy went mad. Started screaming, throwing herself at
the walls. Jesu knows why, the old woman was never kind to her. She had to be restrained, sir, they put her in chains.’ He looked up at me in anguish. ‘They cut off all her hair, her
black curly hair that used to be so lovely, and tried to make me pay for the barber. I wouldn’t – I hadn’t asked for such a cruel thing.’

I sat beside him. ‘Joseph, you know you have to pay them what they ask. If you don’t they’ll only treat her worse.’ He bowed his head and nodded reluctantly. I guessed
arguing with the gaolers over money was the only way poor Joseph could preserve a little dignity.

‘How is she now?’

‘Quiet again. But she’s cut and bruised herself—’

‘Let’s go and see.’

Joseph looked enquiringly at Barak. ‘A colleague,’ I said, remembering Joseph had seen me ride off with him after the hearing with Forbizer. ‘Do you mind if he comes
too?’

He shrugged. ‘No. Anyone who can help.’

‘Come on then,’ I said with a cheerfulness I did not feel. ‘Let’s see her.’ It was only a few days since I had visited Elizabeth, but it felt like far longer.

Once again the fat turnkey led us past the cells where the men lay in their chains, down to the Hole. ‘She’s quiet this morning,’ he said, ‘but she was wild yesterday.
Struggled like a demon when the barber came – lucky he didn’t cut her head wide open. We had to hold her still while he used the razor.’

He opened the door and we passed through into a stink even more overpowering than before. My jaw dropped open when I saw Elizabeth, for she scarcely looked human now. She lay crouched in the
straw, her face covered with grazes and streaks of blood, and her head had been shaved quite bald, the white dome making an obscene contrast to her dirty, bloodied face. I went over to her.

‘Elizabeth,’ I said calmly, ‘what has happened to you?’ I saw her lip was split, someone had hit her when they were restraining her yesterday. She stared back at me with
those vivid dark green eyes. There was more life in them today, angry life. Her gaze flickered past me to Barak.

‘That’s Master Barak, a colleague,’ I said. ‘Did they hurt you?’ I reached out a hand and she shrank back. There was a clanking, and I saw she was manacled to the
wall by long chains, heavy gyves on her wrists and ankles.

‘Was it when they took the old woman away?’ I asked. ‘Did that make you angry?’

She did not reply, only continued fixing me with that ferocious stare. Barak knelt close and whispered to me. ‘May I ask her something?’

I looked at him dubiously. But what more harm could he do? I nodded.

He knelt before her. ‘I don’t know what your sorrow is, Mistress.’ His tone was gentle. ‘But if you won’t talk, no one will ever know. You’ll die and people
will forget. In time they’ll just give it up as a puzzle and forget it.’

She stared back at him for a long moment. Barak nodded. ‘Was that why the old woman being taken made you angry? The thought you might be ripped out of the world unheard, like her?’
Elizabeth moved an arm and Barak jumped back lest she was about to strike him, but she only scrabbled for something in the filthy straw. Her hand came up holding a wafer of charcoal. She leaned
forward painfully, clearing a space in the straw at her feet. I moved to help her but Barak lifted a hand to restrain me. Elizabeth brushed a smear of dried shit from the exposed flagstones and
began to write. We looked on in silence as she traced out some letters, then sat back. I leaned forward, wrinkling my eyes to make out the words in the gloom. It was Latin:
damnata iam luce
ferox
.

‘What is that?’ Joseph asked.

‘
Damnata
,’ Barak said. ‘That means damned, condemned.’

‘It’s from Lucan,’ I said. ‘She had a volume of his in her room. “Furious by daylight, having been condemned.” It refers to some Roman warriors who knew they
were about to lose a battle and killed themselves rather than be condemned to defeat.’

Elizabeth sat back against the wall. The effort of writing seemed to have tired her, but her eyes darted between the three of us.

‘What does it mean?’ Joseph asked.

‘I think she means she would rather die by the press than be humiliated by going through a trial she would inevitably lose.’

Barak nodded. ‘That’s why she won’t speak. But that’s silly, girl. You’ll lose the chance to tell your story, maybe get off.’

‘So if you
were
to plead, Elizabeth,’ I said slowly, ‘you would plead not guilty.’

‘I knew it,’ Joseph said. He wrung his hands. ‘Then tell us what happened, Lizzy. Don’t torment us with riddles, it’s cruel!’ It was the first time he had
lost patience with her. I could not blame him. For answer Elizabeth only looked down at the words she had written. She shook her head very slightly.

I thought a moment, then bent closer to her, wincing as my knees cracked. ‘I have been to your uncle Edwin’s house, Elizabeth. I have spoken to your uncle and your grandmother, your
cousins and the steward.’ I was watching to see if her look changed at the mention of any of those names, but she just continued staring angrily. ‘They all say you must be
guilty.’ At that a bitter smile played round the corner of her mouth, the movement causing blood to seep from her cut lip. Then I leaned in close, so only she would hear, and said, ‘I
think there is something down the well in the garden, where Ralph fell, that they are trying to hide.’

She shrank back, her eyes full of horror.

‘I propose to investigate it,’ I said softly. ‘And I have been told Ralph was a great worry to his mother. I will find the truth, Elizabeth.’

Then she spoke for the first time, her voice cracked from disuse. ‘If you go there, you will do naught but destroy your faith in Christ Jesus,’ she whispered. The words were followed
by a fit of coughing; she doubled over, racked with it. Joseph brought a mug to her lips. She grasped it and swallowed, then sat forward, burying her head in her knees.

‘Lizzy!’ Joseph’s voice was trembling. ‘What did you mean? Tell us, please!’ But she would not lift her head.

I stood up. ‘I don’t think she’ll say any more. Come, let’s leave her for now.’ I looked round the Hole. There was a round depression in the filthy straw by the far
wall where the old woman had lain.

‘She’ll be ill if she stays down here much longer,’ Barak observed. ‘After what she’s been used to no wonder her wits are affected.’

‘Lizzy, please tell us more!’ Joseph shouted, his control gone. ‘You are cruel, cruel! Unchristian!’

Barak gave him an exasperated look, and I put a hand on the farmer’s trembling shoulder. ‘Come, Joseph, come.’ I knocked at the door and the gaoler led us away, back to the
main door. This time it was even more of a relief to be outside again.

Joseph was still agitated. ‘We can’t just leave her there, now she’s started to talk. We’ve only got eight days, Master Shardlake!’

I raised my hands. ‘I have an idea, Joseph. I can’t tell you what it is now, but I hope to find the key to this riddle soon.’

‘
She
has the key to the riddle, sir, Lizzy!’ He was shouting now.

‘She won’t give it to us. That’s why I’m following other channels!’

‘Other channels. Legal language. Oh, God, what did you say to her in there?’ He shook his head.

I did not want to tell him; it was better Joseph did not know I planned to break into his brother’s garden. I made my voice calm. ‘Joseph, give me till tomorrow. Trust me. And if you
visit Elizabeth again, please, in Jesu’s name, do not harangue her. That will only make things worse.’

‘He’s right, you know.’ Barak said.

Joseph looked between us. ‘I haven’t any choice but to do as you say, have I? Though it’s driving me mad, sir, mad.’

We walked to the inn where we had left the horses. The way was narrow and Joseph walked a little way behind Barak and me, his shoulders slumped.

‘He’s near the end of his tether.’ I sighed. ‘But so am I.’

Barak raised his eyebrows. ‘Don’t
you
start playing the martyr. It’s bad enough with him and her.’

I looked at him curiously. ‘You had the measure of her in there. It was you got her to write that sentence.’

He shrugged. ‘I’ve had some experience of her way of thinking. When I ran away from home I felt all the world had turned against me. It took being arrested to bring me out of
it.’

‘It hasn’t done that for her.’

He shook his head. ‘Something bad must have happened to drive her to those depths. Something the girl thinks will never be believed.’ He lowered his voice. ‘We’ll see
what’s in that well tonight.’

I
SAID FAREWELL TO
J
OSEPH
, promising I should have news for him tomorrow. As I rode down Cheapside
to the Guildhall I wondered again what might be down that well. I had to ride carefully to avoid the small boys playing in the puddles, squelching joyously with their bare feet in the ooze even as
the puddles shrank around them. I thought of the sun’s fire turning the water to vapour, drawing it upwards from the earth through the hot air. Earth, air, fire, water: the four elements
that, combined in a million ways, made up everything under the moon. But what was the combination that produced Greek Fire?

Arriving at the Guildhall, I left Chancery in the stables and went to find Vervey in his shaded office. He was studying a contract with leisurely carefulness, and I found myself envying his
peaceful routine. He welcomed me warmly and I gave him the opinion I had written out the previous evening. He read it, nodding occasionally, then looked up at me.

‘You are hopeful, then, of a victory in Chancery?’

‘Ay, though it may be a year before we get there.’

He looked at me meaningfully. ‘We may need to take more than the usual fee to the Six Clerks’ Office up at the Domus.’

‘That may help get the matter listed more quickly. I am going to look at Bealknap’s property this morning, by the way. The Chancery judge will want to know all the circumstances of
the nuisance.’

‘Good, good. The council places the highest priority on this. Some of these tenements in the old monastic properties are shocking. Hovels of cheap wood, unsanitary and a fire risk too,
with everywhere as dry as tinder.’ He looked out of his window at the clear blue sky. ‘If a fire breaks out people may not be able to get enough water from the conduits to quench it.
Then the Common Council will be blamed. We’re trying to stop leaks in the pipes, but some of them run miles from the streams.’

‘I know of a man who is working on repairing the conduits. Master Leighton.’

‘Yes. I have a note to chase him, he was supposed to bring our contractors some new pipes but he hasn’t appeared. Do you know him?’

‘Only by repute. I hear he is a skilled man.’

Vervey smiled. ‘Ay, he’s one of the few founders who knows that type of work. A skilled fellow.’

Probably a dead fellow, but I could not tell him. I changed the subject. ‘I wonder if I might have a look at your library while I am here. Perhaps borrow one or two books if you have
them?’

He laughed. ‘I can’t see that we would have anything Lincoln’s Inn does not.’

‘It’s not legal works I’m after. Some Roman history. Livy and Plutarch, Pliny.’

‘I will prepare a note for the librarian. I heard about your friend Godfrey Wheelwright and the Duke of Norfolk.’

It was safe to speak, for Vervey was known as a reformist. ‘Godfrey should be more careful.’

‘Ay, the times grow dangerous again.’ Although we were alone, he lowered his voice. ‘There’s a pair of Anabaptists booked for burning at Smithfield next weekend unless
they repent. The council has been asked to help with the arrangements, ensure all the apprentices attend.’

‘I hadn’t heard.’

He shook his head sadly. ‘I fear for the future. But come, let me do this note.’

I had a niggling fear the books might be gone from the Guildhall library too, but they were all there, on the shelf. I grasped them eagerly. The librarian was one of those fellows who believes
books should be kept on shelves, not read, but with the aid of Vervey’s note I was able to get past him. He watched sourly as I put the volumes in my satchel. As I walked down the Guildhall
steps I felt a little pleased with myself, for the first time in days. Then I almost walked straight into Sir Edwin Wentworth.

Elizabeth’s other uncle seemed to have aged even in the few days since I had seen him, his face lined and drawn with suffering. He was still dressed in black. Beside him walked his elder
daughter Sabine, while the steward Needler followed behind, some large account books under one arm.

Sir Edwin pulled up short at the sight of me. For a second he looked as though he had been struck. I touched my cap and made to pass, but he stepped into my path. Needler passed his books to
Sabine and stood protectively beside his master.

‘What are you doing here?’ Sir Edwin’s face reddened and his voice trembled with anger. ‘Making enquiries about my family?’

‘No,’ I said mildly. ‘I have a case on with the Common Council.’

‘Oh, yes, you lawyers have your long fingers in every pie, don’t you? You crookbacked churl. How much is Joseph paying you for keeping that murderess alive?’

‘We have not discussed a fee,’ I said, ignoring the insult. ‘I believe your niece to be innocent,’ I added. ‘Sir Edwin, does it not occur to you that if she
is
innocent, you will kill an innocent person while a guilty one goes free?’

‘Know better than the coroner, do you?’ Needler said boldly.

At his insolent manner, more than Sir Edwin’s insult, something snapped inside me. ‘Do you let your steward speak for you, sir?’ I asked Sir Edwin.

‘David speaks true. He knows as well as I that you will drag matters out as long as you get paid for it.’