'Dear Jesu,' Joseph said. 'The coroner will have to be told.'
'Yes,' I agreed. 'But the family may try to turn the beggar boy's death against Elizabeth. Perhaps get Needler to say he did not see the beggar boy.'
'That won't be believed, surely.'
'Public feeling has been stirred against Elizabeth. Remember that pamphlet? Forbizer will not want to let her go. And who did kill Ralph? Or was it an accident, Elizabeth? Did he fall?'
She turned her face away. I wondered, for an awful moment, had she done it after all? But then why had Needler said nothing when he saw the well?
'Ralph must have been possessed,' Joseph said. 'Possessed by some demon.'
'Yes.' Elizabeth spoke to her uncle directly for the first time. 'By the devil, or perhaps by God, who is one and the same.'
He looked aghast. 'Elizabeth. That is blasphemy!'
She lifted herself on her elbows, coughing painfully. 'Don't you see? That's what I've come to understand. I know now that God is cruel and evil. He favours the wicked, as anyone who looks around the world can see. I have read the Book of Job, read the torments God inflicted on his faithful servant, I have asked God to tell me how he can do such evil, but he does not reply. Does not Luther say God chooses who will be damned and who saved, before one is even born? He has chosen me to be damned and for my damnation to start in this life!'
'Rubbish!' I turned with surprise to Barak. He glared at her. 'You should listen to your self-pity.'
Then she lost control. 'Who else has pitied me? My faith is gone, I wait for my death so I may spit in God's face for his cruelty!' She glared at Barak, then leaned back, exhausted.
The words rang round the room. Joseph waved his hands anxiously, as though he could bat them away. 'Lizzy, that is blasphemy! Do you want to be burned as a witch?' He put his hands together and began praying aloud. 'O merciful Jesu, help your daughter, strike the beam from her eye, turn her to obedience-'
'That'll do no good!' Barak shouldered past Joseph and leaned over Elizabeth. 'Listen, girl. I've seen that little boy. His death should be avenged, Ralph may be gone, but there are others who covered up his killing that beggar child as though it was a thing that mattered not at all. And his sister, Sarah, maybe they'll release her from Bedlam when they find her brother
'Release her to what?' Elizabeth asked despairingly. 'To beg again, or go for a whore?'
I put my head in my hands, full of the horror of it all; a cheerful innocent girl, visited with calamity after calamity and then the appalling, relentless cruelty of Sir Edwin's monstrous family, finally turning her fury on the God who had seemed to desert her. She had been pious once, no doubt, but the terrible blows she had suffered had turned her faith inside out. And was there not an awful logic in her belief that God had deserted her? Surely he had? I thought of the thousands of children who lay abandoned, begging in the streets.
Joseph was in a terrible state, wringing his hands. 'She could be charged with blasphemy,' he moaned. 'Atheism-' I glanced at the door, wondering whether the turnkey had been listening, for if he had Elizabeth's words were indeed enough to put her under a new charge. But undoubtedly the man would stay clear of the sick chamber.
'Calm down, Joseph, for mercy's sake,' I said. I looked at Elizabeth. She was sobbing now, a low miserable keening. 'Is it a wonder she has been driven to think as she does?'
Joseph looked at me aghast. 'You are not excusing-'
'Elizabeth.' She looked up at me again. The outburst had brought some colour to her white cheeks. 'Elizabeth, whatever you think God has done, surely Barak is right? It is your uncle Edwin's family you should be blaming, for it was they that did the evil. And if one of them killed Ralph, you should tell. They should be brought to justice.'
'They will not be. I am damned, I tell you.' Her voice rose again. 'Let God have his way, let me be killed. Let his work be done!' She lay back, exhausted.
'Very well,' I said. 'Then I shall have to confront the family myself
She did not reply. She closed her eyes. She seemed to have retreated back into that dark place where she lived now.
After a few moments I rose from the stool and turned to the others. 'Come,' I said. I opened the door and called for the turnkey, who had retreated to the bottom of the steps. We left the cell, Joseph stumbling and almost falling.
Outside the gaol he shivered, despite the heat. 'I thought it could get no worse,' he said quietly.
'It was enough to freeze the blood, I know. But I beg you, Joseph, remember Elizabeth's mind is distracted, remember what she has been through.'
He looked at me and I saw stark terror in his face. 'So you believe her,' he whispered. 'My brother has spawned a family of devils.'
'I will find who did this,' I said.
He shook his head, his mind in utter turmoil. We took him to a tavern and sat with him half an hour while he calmed himself. By then it was time to go to Cromwell.
'Come, Joseph, we will ride with you as far as your lodgings,' I said. 'Then we must catch a boat. We have business at Whitehall. Perhaps we may leave our horses at your lodgings?'
He looked up with a faint flicker of interest. 'This other matter you are engaged on, it is a matter of state?'
'Yes, it is. But I will have an answer from your family, Joseph, I promise.'
'He will,' Barak added encouragingly.
Joseph looked at me.
'Do you want me to come with you?'
'No. I will go alone, or with Barak here.'
'For God's sake,' he said, his eyes full of fear, 'be careful.'
Chapter Forty
THE THAMES WAS BUSY and we had difficulty finding a wherry at the river stairs. Barak cursed roundly, fearing we would be late. At length a boat arrived and we sailed upriver, a strong southerly wind plucking at my robe and driving the craft briskly through the water. I thought of Elizabeth, how terrible her state of mind must be, her whole being dominated by her hatred of the savage God before whom she meant to martyr herself. I shuddered at the darkness that overlay her mind, even as, I felt, I understood it. I glanced at Barak: he sat hunched and gloomy in the stern of the boat. I thought perhaps he understood too. But we dared not talk of such things before the boatman.
At last the wherry bumped into Westminster steps. Barak jumped out and we scrambled up the stairs, half- running across to the Privy Gallery. We stopped a moment to catch our breath under the mural, the king frowning down on us, then walked through to Cromwell's office.
Grey was at his desk, working on a bill to be presented to parliament, running a rule down the long sheet of parchment. He looked up sharply. 'Master Shardlake, I was beginning to fear you would be late. The earl is – is not in a patient mood today.'
'I am sorry, the river was busy-'
'I'll take you in.' He got up with a sigh. 'My master is sending so many bills to this parliament that his work lacks its usual level of care.' He shook his head. 'He is very preoccupied.' He knocked on Cromwell's door, and ushered us inside.
The earl was standing by the window, looking out at Whitehall. He turned a dark, frowning face towards us. He was dressed magnificently today in a robe of red silk such as the rules allowed only barons to wear, edged with sable fur. The star of the Order of the Garter hung from a colourful ribbon round his neck.
'Well,' he said grimly, 'you've come.' He strode to his desk, which was heaped high with papers. He must recently have thrown down his quill in anger, for it lay in the middle in a pool of ink. He sat down heavily in his chair and stared at us, his face set hard.
'Well, Matthew, it seems you have sent me on a fool's errand.'
'My lord?'
