Heartstone

have ferreted that amusing fact out before. I have overestimated you.' He thought a few seconds. 'I imagine young Curteys is another of those people you try to do good works for, hey? Like Elizabeth Wentworth when we first met, or old Master Wrenne in York?'

'If you know Hugh Curteys is really Emma, why have you let her on board the Mary Rose?'

He smiled. 'It was an opportunity, Brother Shardlake. I spend my life watching for opportunities. That is why I am a privy councillor. With my responsibilities for supply I see the daily reports on manpower; how many men have deserted, or fallen ill, how many new ones have come forward. Two hours ago I was brought this.' He flicked a finger through the documents on his desk, then pulled out a list and passed it to me. A name leaped out at me. Hugh Curteys, 18 yrs, Hoyland. Company of Sir Franklin Giffard.

'You may imagine,' Rich said, 'how my eyes widened too at that name. And knowing from Priddis that he—or rather she—was one of your protegees, I wondered whether you might follow her. Had you not, I was not sure what to do with you. Since you ignored my first warning from the apprentices.' His tone had turned vicious. 'If you had some fatal accident your friend Barak would be on the case, and no doubt involve your patron the Queen. You have to watch Catherine Parr, she is no fool.' His eye twitched again. 'But now, I think, we may come to an agreement. That is why, though I knew Emma Curteys' true identity, I allowed her to enlist.'

'You will use her to make a bargain with me.'

Rich leaned forward. 'After seeing the list I rode straight into Portsmouth. The French fleet had appeared, the King had left the Great Harry, soldiers were milling around, waiting to go on the ships. Some of the senior officers had come ashore to ensure every ship got its correct complement, including Philip West.' He looked at me.

'Yes,' I said quietly. 'West.'

'Your friend Captain Leacon's archers were due to go on the Great Harry, but I spoke to West and arranged for them to go with him on the Mary Rose instead. So he can keep an eye on Emma Curteys for me. Then I came back here to see if you would follow her. She matters nothing to me, of course, she never did. Those corner boys I set to attack you failed to make themselves clear. For which they were punished.' His icy eyes stared into mine. 'The case you were meant to drop was not Hugh Curteys'. It was the other one my agent, Master Mylling of the Court of Wards, told me you had been enquiring about.'

'Ellen Fettiplace,' I said heavily. 'That is your connection to West. It was you with him at Rolfswood nineteen years ago.'

Rich leaned back in his chair again. His face was impassive now. 'So you know.'

'When I realized you had no connection to the Curteys case, I knew it had to be that.'

'Who else knows?' he asked abruptly.

'Barak,' I lied. 'And I have sent him back to London.'

Rich sat, considering. Then a voice called from outside, 'Sir?'

A spasm of annoyance crossed Rich's face. 'Come in, Colin,' he said heavily.

The door opened and a large, heavy-faced young man, the letters RR emblazoned on his tunic, entered with a taper. Rich gestured to the sconce, and the servant lit the candles, illuminating the tent with yellow light. 'What news?' Rich asked.

'The French have gone.'

'The soldiers will stay on board tonight?'

'Yes, sir. They must be ready to engage the French at first light if need be. Sir, a messenger came. The Privy Council is meeting in the King's tent in an hour.'

'God's death,' Rich snapped, 'why didn't you tell me immediately you came in?'

The man reddened. 'I—'

'Messages from the Privy Council must be conveyed at once—how many times have I told you? Get out,' Rich snapped. 'But stay near enough to hear if I ring my bell for you.'

'Yes sir.' He bowed and left. Rich shook his head. 'Peel is a dolt,' he said, 'but it can be useful sometimes to have people around who understand little, and who fear you.' He composed his features into that superior, contemptuous smile again. I saw it cost him an effort.

'Now, Brother Shardlake, let me tell you what I propose. A letter from me to Philip West will get you on the Mary Rose. Then you can tell your friend Leacon that the boy he recruited today is a girl, and bring her back. My servant will get a boat to row you there and back. In return, you will say nothing to anybody about what happened at Rolfswood nineteen years ago. It is Philip West, by the way, who has been paying Ellen Fettiplace's fees at the Bedlam all these years.'

'I guessed that.'

'You can take over responsibility for payment yourself if you like, I don't care.'

'You have left her safe all this time? If she had ever talked about the rape—'

'She never knew my name. And West has always threatened to tell the whole story if anything happened to her.' Rich's eye twitched again and he blinked angrily. 'Well, Brother Shardlake, what do you say? There will likely be a battle tomorrow, next day at the latest.'

'I need to know the whole story,' I answered steadily. I needed time to think, too.

'Do we really have to go into that?' he snapped impatiently.

'I do,' I answered. 'West's mother told me of the letter he carried from the King to Anne Boleyn that day.'

'He told me she had. Stupid old mare.'

'And I want to know what happened at that foundry.' I needed to know if Ellen had played any part in the deaths of her father and Gratwyck.

Rich's eyes narrowed.

'You must have been near thirty then,' I said. 'Much older than West. From what he said it was only a junior official that accompanied him.'

'I was junior then. Despite my striving, despite my attempts to get the patronage of Thomas More, I had advanced only to a lowly position working for the King's chamberlain.' He smiled, an odd smile. 'Do you believe in fortune, Master Shardlake? Fate?'

'No.'

'I like to gamble. The world is like the cards. You wait for a run of luck, then when you have it you use your skill to increase it. What happened with that letter began the run of luck that has led me on to the Privy Council.'

'How did you know what it contained?'

'I didn't.' He laughed. 'I wouldn't have dared touch it if I had. I thought it was just a matter of old Queen Catherine nosing out how long the King's affair with Anne Boleyn might last. Ridiculous old creature, you should have seen her then. Waddling around with her rosary, fat and shapeless from carrying all those children that died. I had put much effort into getting to know anyone I could at court, and had made friends with an elderly maid-in- waiting in the Queen's household, one of those wonderful old gossips who knows what everyone is doing. I told her I was a loyal servant of the Queen, someone who did not like to see her disgraced by the Boleyn, and so on.' He smiled at his cleverness. 'She told Queen Catherine, and through her it was suggested that I cultivate West; the Queen knew he sometimes carried letters to Anne Boleyn. Then she suggested that I intercept this one. Queen Catherine's spies in the King's household must have told her it contained something important. So I arranged to accompany Philip West to Rolfswood.'

'How did you get hold of the letter?'

'It is enough for you to know that I did.'

'No, Sir Richard, if we are to make a bargain I must know everything. Remember, Barak is on the road to London even now.'

Rich set his narrow lips. 'You have met Philip West. He is a man dominated by his passions, even more when he was younger. And like many who think themselves honourable fellows, what really matters to him is his dignity. His reputation, his vanity. What his mother thinks of him.' He wrinkled his sharp nose in contempt. 'I rode to Rolfswood with him that day, and waited at an inn nearby while he went to propose marriage to Ellen Fettiplace.'

'I thought there was a fight, and that he had not intended to propose to her that day, just talk to her