‘You don’t have her in your room, I hope?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s the competition for nursing old Wrenne Joan doesn’t like. Two women in one house never works. But she is kind to him. She is kind.’

I suppressed a frown; I did not like the idea of Tamasin having the freedom of my house. ‘She will domesticate you in the end,’ I said.

He smiled. ‘She can try. By the way, I’m going to see my old mate tomorrow. He has some news, I’ve had a message.’

‘About Tamasin’s father? What does he say?’

‘Only that he’s got a good lead.’

We rowed on in silence, my jaw throbbing painfully, the gyve cold against my wrist. At length the towers of Hampton Court appeared in the distance, and my heart began thumping again.

THERE WERE SOLDIERS at the wharf, checking everyone’s documents. Barak showed them Cranmer’s letter, the one he had brought to the Tower. We were told to wait and escorted to a little wooden shelter with other arrivals, water dripping on to the boards. I put my torn shirt and doublet on properly, and pulled down the cuffs of my shirt to cover the damned manacle. I winced at the chafing, and the throbbing from my jaw. The soldier from the boat waited with us. I am still a prisoner, I thought.

A clerk arrived, the same soft-footed little fellow who had taken me to see Cranmer at that first meeting more than two months before. His eyes widened at the sight of my swollen, bloody face. The soldier following, he led us across the wide lawn, through a door at the back of the palace, then along dim back-corridors. Looking through a window into a courtyard I saw a familiar figure among the many soldiers posted at the doors. Sergeant Leacon, standing on his own in the yard, looking downcast.

The official halted before a little door. ‘You are to wait here, Master Shardlake, till the Archbishop is free.’ At least, I thought, I am ‘Master’ again. He turned to Barak. ‘Come with me please, you shall wait elsewhere.’

‘I’ll see you soon, sir.’ Barak followed the clerk reluctantly. The soldier opened the door and ushered me in. He closed the door behind me, and I guessed he would be standing guard outside. I looked around me. A room with tapestries of scenes of ancient Rome on the walls, distant views of pillared buildings. A fire in the grate. There was a heap of cushions by the fire and I sank gratefully on to them, not even bothering to remove my wet coat. My eyes closed instantly.

I woke feeling I was not alone. I opened my eyes. Archbishop Cranmer was standing above me, in his white robe and black stole. He was looking at me, an anxious expression on his austere tired face.

I scrambled to my feet. As I moved my head a fresh spasm shot through my jaw, making me groan. He put out a hand. ‘Not so fast, Master Shardlake, you will faint. Here, take this chair.’ He pulled a chair out from the card-table, and I sank heavily into it.

‘What happened to your face?’ he asked quietly. His cheeks had a grey look and there were bags of exhaustion under his eyes.

‘I was taken to the torture, your grace, in the Tower. Barak did not arrive quite in time. They broke a tooth off.’ I realized how muffled my voice sounded.

Cranmer frowned with distaste. ‘I did not sanction that.’ He hesitated. ‘Sir Richard Rich came to see me, told me you knew the Queen was having a – a relationship with Dereham. He knew I was following up other information already, information that came to me while the Progress was away. An old servant of the Queen from before she was married, who said Catherine had had carnal relations with Dereham when she was younger, that there could be a precontract of marriage. They persuaded me to put you in the Tower, said you would be readier to confess if you were held in there.’ He looked at me severely for a moment. ‘I felt betrayed by you. That you had not told what you knew, but I did not sanction torture.’

‘For Rich having me tortured was probably a matter of sport. I imagine the order to the warden came from him.’

‘Maleverer brought me a deposition from a servant of Master Craike. That servant has now disappeared. And Craike came to see me this morning. He says Sir William Maleverer came to him, asked in Rich’s name if he had a servant who would swear falsely for money. He told me he provided a man reluctantly. He did not know the victim of this deceit was to be you. When he heard you were in the Tower, he came to me.’ Cranmer looked down at me. ‘Craike told me, too, about the hold Rich has over him. He said he could bear it no more, realizing he had had a part in sending you falsely to the Tower.’

‘Will he lose his position?’

‘I fear so. These visits to the stews -’ the Archbishop wrinkled his nose in distaste – ‘are one thing, but he should not have let Rich blackmail him. That at least will stop. Maleverer is in Rich’s pay. He seeks some of Robert Aske’s lands.’ Cranmer’s lips set hard. ‘He will lose his place on the Council of the North. I shall see to that.’

‘Rich has won against me, your grace,’ I said quietly. ‘That case Barak told your secretary about – the Guildhall has dropped it.’ I found I did care about that after all.

‘Then I am sorry. But you must understand, Rich is too powerful, too useful for the King, for me to intervene against him.’

‘So he has truly won.’

He looked at me seriously. ‘You worked for Lord Cromwell, Master Shardlake. You know how much latitude the great men of the realm are allowed.’

I did not reply.

‘So,’ Cranmer went on quietly, ‘you truly knew nothing of Dereham’s relations with the Queen?’

‘Nothing, my lord. I swear.’

He sighed. ‘Dereham is in the Tower now. They will use harsh methods on him.’ He bit his lip. ‘But it must be.’

‘I saw him brought in as we came out. And the Queen’s ladies.’

‘I have been set to question the Queen herself. There is more to come out, other men are mentioned already.’ Culpeper, I thought. I looked at Cranmer, fearing more questions, but he only shook his head. ‘That she could have behaved so…’ He sighed again. ‘The King will be exposed to public ridicule. He does not yet believe the Queen has deceived him. But he will. God help her then.’

I looked at him. ‘If the Queen falls the Duke of Norfolk will be in dire straits. The head of the traditionalist faction. The Queen’s uncle.’

Cranmer nodded. I thought, he cavils at the means but will use them for his ends. All the time the Progress was away he has been working towards this.

‘This will be the end of the Howards,’ he said neutrally. ‘There are other families waiting in the wings, more favourable to reform, they will have the King’s ear now. The Seymours, the Dudleys, the Parrs.’ He nodded thoughtfully. ‘Yes, the Parrs.’

‘Will the Queen die?’ I asked him.

He looked at me with those unreadable blue eyes. ‘I think she must. But for now it is not to be spoken of outside Hampton Court. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

I saw his eyes move to my wrist. My sleeve had ridden up, exposing the gyve and the raw skin. Cranmer gave an unhappy little sigh. ‘I am sorry for what happened to you, Master Shardlake,’ he said quietly. ‘You will receive more pay than your strict due, I will see to that.’

‘Broderick-’ I said.

He waved a hand. ‘I do not blame you for failing to save him. You were not to know Radwinter was mad.’ He frowned.

‘I think he was never quite normal in his mind.’

‘I thought his – his cruelty – was in a way being used by God, harnessed in the service of truth, the destruction of heresy. I hope that may save his soul.’ He looked out of the window at the teeming rain, the bare trees, and again I heard that unhappy sigh.

‘Your grace,’ I said. ‘I do not think Radwinter killed Broderick. I think Maleverer was wrong.’

He looked at me in surprise. ‘He seemed sure.’