‘I knew Radwinter, your grace. In his mind, even at the end, to him such an act would have been wrong.’ I met the Archbishop’s gaze. ‘He was loyal to you till the end.’

‘Then who did kill Broderick?’

‘I think someone helped him kill himself, as he had tried to do before. And I believe that person may also have stolen the papers in that casket.’ Cranmer looked at me keenly as I told him of my suspicions. ‘Sir William would not believe me,’ I added.

Cranmer thought a moment. ‘He seemed certain. If Maleverer ignored that possibility he is indeed a man of poor judgement. So someone stole the papers and stayed with the Progress, all the way to the ship. But who?’

I took a deep breath. ‘The soldier who guarded Broderick on the boat: Sergeant Leacon. He was part of the guard at St Mary’s too. A Kentishman. I saw him out in the yard just now.’

‘Yes. I believe he has been dismissed.’ He nodded slowly. ‘It would do no harm to have him questioned.’

‘But my lord, I am not sure,’ I said. ‘May I ask…’

‘Yes?’

‘That he be just questioned? Be put to no harsh measures. The evidence is only circumstantial as yet.’

‘I will question him myself.’ The archbishop frowned. ‘If the conspirators have those papers it could make – difficulties. Some are still at large. Some of the papist sympathizers at Gray’s Inn have already been questioned following Bernard Locke’s confession, but we uncovered nothing about who his contact there was.’

‘I saw Locke briefly, in the Tower. Before he was executed. He was in a grim state.’

‘God receive his soul.’ Cranmer gave another unhappy sigh. ‘But he deserved to die, he was a traitor and conspirator to murder.’ He waved a beringed hand. ‘Go home now, Master Shardlake, rest. I will send word if we find new information.’

‘Yes, your grace.’ I thought, should I mention Blaybourne, the legend I discovered from the old lawyer in Hull? But he would know it, all those in power would know. And better they were left unaware that I knew too. I rose, wincing. ‘Your grace?’

‘Yes.’

‘May I request that I be not asked to work in the service of politics again. Now, especially after what has befallen me, I desire only a peaceful life for such time as God allows me.’ I reached for the seal and held it out to him. He looked at it, and then at me.

‘You could be a useful man to me, Master Shardlake. Your old master Thomas Cromwell thought so.’

I did not reply. I continued holding out the seal. He looked at my ravaged face. ‘Very well,’ he said, and took it reluctantly. I rose painfully to my feet and bowed. I turned to the door but he called me back. ‘Master Shardlake.’

‘Your grace.’

‘The harsh measures the King takes are necessary. Do not forget he is chosen by God, appointed by Him to guide England into the paths of wisdom and truth.’

I would have liked to tell him that was what Radwinter used to say, but I only nodded, bowed again and left the room. The soldier took me back down the corridors, across the lawn and down to the river stage. Barak was waiting there.

‘The boatman will take you back to town, sir.’ The soldier gave a quick bow and walked away. I watched him go, realizing that at last I was free. Barak touched my arm.

‘Let’s go home,’ he said gently.

Chapter Forty-five

AS WE APPROACHED Westminster the rain eased and by the time the boat pulled in at Temple Stairs it had stopped completely. Barak helped me out. I stood looking at Temple Gardens and the familiar squat shape of the Templars’ church.

‘Can you manage the walk to Chancery Lane?’ he asked.

‘Ay. The thought of home draws me like a magnet.’

‘The horses are back, by the way. Arrived two days ago, fresh as new paint.’

I laughed bitterly. ‘Never doubt the ability of the King and his minions when it comes to organizing things. A Progress, a reception, an army. Torture and death.’ I looked at him seriously. ‘I got Cranmer to agree he will never call on my services again.’

‘Suits me. I never want another few days like I’ve just had. What will happen to Rich and Maleverer?’

‘To Rich, nothing. He stands too high. Maleverer will lose his position. Cranmer is worried about who Broderick’s assassin might be. I suggested he question Sergeant Leacon.’

Barak shook his head. ‘The sergeant? It can’t be him. He’s like old Wrenne, no concerns beyond his family and doing his work.’

‘Then Cranmer will find that out. I just wanted to – to tie this up if I could. There’s no one else I can think of that it could be.’ And then I thought, but isn’t there?

‘Are you coming?’ Barak asked.

‘Yes, yes of course.’ We began walking up the path, carefully, for it was carpeted with wet leaves.

‘We’d better tell Joan something to explain your appearance,’ he said. ‘We could say you’d been set on and robbed.’

‘Ay. I’ll have to keep this gyve hidden. Damn the thing.’

‘I’ll get that off with my tools.’

I shook my head. ‘Was it raining hard all the time I was in the Tower? It seemed like it.’

‘Pretty much.’

I looked at the bare trees. ‘When we started for York summer was not long past. Now we are come to winter.’

‘Do you remember the great snow we had in November four years ago? Jesu, that was cold.’

‘All too well. That was when I was sent to the monastery at Scarnsea. My first matter of state. My disillusion with the King and all his works started there.’

We trudged on, up to Fleet Bridge and then across to Chancery Lane. The red chimneys of my house came into view.

‘Home!’ I breathed. ‘At last!’ Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

PETER THE KITCHEN BOY was in the hall as we entered, carrying a pail of slops. He stared wide-eyed at my appearance. I tucked my manacled hand into my coat pocket.

‘Where is Joan?’ Barak asked him sharply.

‘Gone to market, sir. Mistress Reedbourne has just taken a bowl of broth to Master Wrenne.’ He gave a saucy leer at Barak when he mentioned Tamasin’s name.

‘Is there a fire in the parlour?’ I asked.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then bring us some beer.’

He went off. I followed Barak into the parlour and slumped down in my chair by the fire, massaging my wrist.

‘I’ll get my tools,’ he said. I remembered the night he had picked the lock of the Wentworths’ well for me, a year ago. I had been a little scandalized, then, by his lock-picking skills. Now I was past being scandalized by anything.

HE WORKED ON the gyve for half an hour, but without result. ‘The damned lock’s all rusted inside,’ he said.

I looked at the cursed thing; already I hated that tight circle of iron more than any object in the world. ‘Then how are we to get it off? It bites into my wrist.’ I heard the edge of panic in my voice.

‘I’ve a friend down Cheapside who can have any lock off,’ he said. ‘He’s more skill and better tools than me.’ Barak glared at the manacle, reluctant to admit defeat. ‘I’ll go and see if he’s about.’

‘You should rest.’

‘No. I’ll go now.’ He finished his pot of beer and left. I heaved myself to my feet and slowly mounted the stairs.

Giles was sitting up in bed, in nightshirt and dressing gown. Tamasin sat at his side, sewing one of her dresses. She jumped up at my arrival. Both stared at my face.

‘It looks worse than it is,’ I said.

‘You are free?’ Giles asked.

‘Yes. Thanks to Barak. I do not want to talk about it, not yet. How are you, Giles?’

He smiled. ‘A little stronger every day. That voyage was too much for me. By Jesu, I am glad you are free. I have been sore worried.’ I was moved by the concern in his face.

‘He is not a good patient, sir,’ Tamasin said. She smiled, but her eyes on me were watchful. She looked pale and tired.