‘Can I get a message to Sir William?’

‘In this weather it would take hours even for a fast messenger to reach the Progress and find him, sir. It would be just as well to wait until tomorrow morning. He is setting off first thing, I believe.’

I thought a moment. ‘All right. We’ll wait. Could you have a message left for Sir William, that Master Shardlake needs to see him, in connection with that boy? I shall be here tomorrow morning.’

There was nothing left to do but return to our lodgings. We walked along the side of the church – I was not going to take any shortcuts through that church again, even if it got us out of the rain. I saw the glazier’s cart had been removed.

‘I said I should have come back and given Maleverer a message,’ Barak said.

‘Thank you for reminding me,’ I answered drily. ‘I’ll probably get into trouble now. Why has he gone to meet the Progress? God’s wounds, is this matter important enough for him to need to consult the Privy Council?’

‘Richard Rich is on the Privy Council, isn’t he?’

‘Don’t remind me.’ I sighed deeply. ‘God’s death, I wish I’d never got entangled in this!’ I kicked out in anger at a discarded piece of wood on the duckboards, then reddened with embarrassment as I saw the stout figure of Master Craike approaching through the gloom. He was walking carefully along the slippery duckboards, swathed in a fur-lined coat with a hood up against the rain. He smiled, affecting not to notice my outbreak of temper.

‘Foul weather,’ he said.

‘Ay, it is. I see the glazier’s cart has gone.’

He nodded. ‘It was ordered to be searched, Jesu knows why. But are you all right, I heard you got locked in the chapterhouse?’ His eyes were alive with curiosity.

‘A foolish accident. I must thank you, sir, for your help this morning.’

‘It was nothing. But the glazier’s death seems to have caused a great stir. I was brought before Sir William earlier. He made me tell him everything that happened. Something is going on, sir,’ he said portentously.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘There seems to be. Tell me, Master Craike, how well did you know Oldroyd?’

He gave me a sharp look. ‘Not well,’ he answered quickly. ‘When he came to start work last week he asked if there was a place he could keep his horse and cart overnight, and I had to tell him he must leave the cart in the open, and take the horse home each night. There is so little room, you see. Afterwards, if I was passing I would exchange a few words with him. He seemed a pleasant enough fellow, and I was curious to talk to a Yorker. I have scarcely been into the town,’ he added; it seemed to me a little too quickly.

‘He seemed to regret the passing of the old ways.’ I looked keenly at Craike.

‘Perhaps. I did not discuss that with him. I have little time for talk, the amount of work there is. The Knight Harbinger has arrived, to see all is ready for the King. I am on my way to meet him.’ He wiped a drip of water from his hood. ‘In fact, I must be off.’

‘Ah well, no doubt I shall see you later. We must have that drink.’

‘We must,’ he said hastily. He stepped off the duckboards to walk round us, his feet squelching in the grass, and was gone.

‘He was keen to leave,’ Barak observed.

I watched his big form disappearing in the rain. ‘Yes. I suspect he’s a sympathizer with the old religion – he and Oldroyd probably shared opinions together. I hope that’s all.’ We resumed our way, passing the door we had gone through that morning.

‘He couldn’t have had anything to do with Oldroyd’s death,’ Barak said. ‘He was with us when we heard that door creak open in the church.’

‘True. But he was abroad very early, he came up to me right after that horse charged into the courtyard. There could have been more than one person involved. You’ve seen how secure this place is, Barak. Whoever killed the glazier was already at St Mary’s. It was a resident.’

‘But there are hundreds here.’

‘There are.’

We walked on to our lodgings. The cattle and sheep stood dripping in their pens; the fowls were huddled up against the walls, seeking some protection from the rain. Inside the building a group of clerks was standing talking round the fire, which was blazing merrily, and passing round a big leather pouch of wine. The young lawyer we had met earlier, Master Kimber, stood a little apart from them, warming his hands.

‘Good evening, sir,’ he greeted us. ‘You have been caught in the rain?’

‘Ay, we have been in the city. And you fellows, have you finished work?’

‘Yes, sir. The clerks here and I have been sorting through the bills for all the food that has been bought.’ He pointed to a young man. ‘Master Barrow here made an entry for fifty pigs where he should have put five hundred this afternoon. The cofferer threatens to send him back to London. Have you any need of a clerk for your counting house?’

Master Barrow scowled at him. I laughed. ‘No, thank you.’

‘Someone was asking for you a little while ago.’ Kimber turned and called out, ‘Hey, Tom Cowfold, are you there?’ A round-faced man, young but already balding, put his head out of a nearby cubicle. ‘Here is Master Shardlake,’ Kimber said importantly.

‘Ah, yes, sir.’ The clerk approached us. ‘ ’Tis about the rehearsal tomorrow, for the presentation to the King -’

‘Come to my room,’ I said, aware the clerks were listening with interest. I led him into my cubicle, Barak following.

‘Now, sir.’ Master Cowfold looked at me self-importantly. ‘You are asked to come to my master’s office at nine, for the rehearsal for the presentation. Sir James Fealty, of the steward’s office. Master Wrenne is to be there too, with the petitions. My master will take you through the manner in which they are to be offered to the King.’

‘Who is actually to make the presentation?’

‘Master Wrenne.’ I was relieved to hear that. ‘Er, and you should be in the clothes you will wear at the presentation.’ The clerk was looking at my ill-fitting, voluminous coat.

‘Very well.’

‘Until tomorrow then, sir.’ He bowed and left.

‘Let’s change,’ I said to Barak, ‘and get some supper. That Mistress Reedbourne said she’d meet you at the hall at six, it’s near that now.’

‘All right. I’ll go and ask those lads where it is.’ He stepped outside. A moment later I heard Cowfold greet him. ‘Here’s the crookback lawyer’s clerk.’

My heart lurched with anger; the churl might have lowered his voice.

‘Shut up, you arsehole,’ I heard Barak say quickly. There was a moment’s silence, then the conversation continued more soberly. I changed my wet hose, took a deep breath and stepped out, self-conscious now in Wrenne’s big coat. I wished God had not made the old man so tall. The clerks had dispersed, and Barak was standing alone by the fire. He gave me an uneasy look; he knew that overheard insults did not improve my temper.

‘Where is the dining hall, then?’ I asked curtly.

‘The clerks say it is set up in the old monks’ refectory. Everyone’s together apart from the high officials at the abbot’s house.’

‘Come on, then.’

OUTSIDE A NUMBER OF people were heading for the long row of claustral buildings running alongside the church. A large door stood open. We followed a group of carpenters, covered in wet sawdust, towards it. Standing in the archway, in the expensive-looking yellow dress we had first seen her in and a blue French hood that set off her eyes, was Tamasin. To my surprise Jennet Marlin stood beside her, wearing the slight frown that seemed to be her habitual look. Tamasin greeted us with a curtsy, though Mistress Marlin merely nodded coldly. Tamasin passed us two strips of paper. Mine had my name and the words ‘Lawyer for the King’s petitions’, stamped by the Chamberlain’s office.

‘Thank you, Mistress Reedbourne,’ Barak said. ‘You’ve saved us a wait in a draughty tent.’