Dark Fire

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?'

'Sir Richard Rich,' he snapped. 'I called him in here on Saturday night.' He linked his hands together and banged them down on the table. 'The reason Rich has been making threatening remarks to you and the reason Bealknap thought he was safe from me have nothing to do with Greek Fire.'

'Then what?'

'You have been acting for the Common Council, have you not, on a case involving whether a monastic property may be exempt from the City statutes?'

'Indeed. It is going up to Chancery.'

'No,' he said heavily. 'It is not.' He took a long breath. 'Many influential people have bought monastic properties in London, Matthew. The City was full of the pestilential places before we dissolved them. Unfortunately, there are so many on the market now that the value of land has fallen. I have had complaints from several people that they were induced to make bad investments. When the case over that damned cesspit of Bealknap's arose, Rich came to me and said it was important Bealknap won. Otherwise the council would use the case as a precedent and make life difficult for the new owners, some of whom can only turn a profit by converting their properties into housing of the cheapest type. Do you see now?' He raised his eyebrows. 'Many of these are men whose loyalty I am trying to keep, in these days when all are ready to turn against me.'

'Oh.'

'Rich did not tell me you were the lawyer acting for the council, or I would have guessed what all this was about long ago. I agreed to his bribing Judge Heslop to get the right judgement, which owners of monastic properties could then use as a precedent in any future cases. Rich tells me he put pressure on some men who are his clients to take cases they had with you to other lawyers as a warning. A Chancery judgement against Bealknap could upset the whole applecart – do you see?' He spoke coldly, distinctly, as though to a foolish man. 'That's what his threats were about and that's what Bealknap thought you were pressuring him about. And you didn't realize.'

I closed my eyes.

'It's a dog's breakfast, isn't it!' He gave a hollow laugh. 'Weren't you worried, Matthew, that cases were being taken from you? Didn't you investigate? You would soon have seen all the clients were Sir Richard's men.'

'I have been too busy, my lord,' I said. 'I have thought of nothing but Greek Fire and the Wentworth case. I have had to leave my work with my chambers fellow.'

He gave me a sharp look. 'Oh, yes, Master Wheelwright. His holiness will carry him into the fire one day.' He closed his jaw hard. Once Cromwell could have protected radical reformers, but no more. He stood up abruptly and walked over to the window, looking at the courtiers and clerks milling outside. Then he turned back to me.

'It seems clear to me, from their reactions, that neither Bealknap nor Rich is holding anything back about Greek Fire. Rich didn't even know about it. I managed to elicit that without alerting him to its existence. Just.'

'I see. I am sorry, my lord.' I felt a fool, a dolt.

'That leaves Lady Honor and Marchamount.' He began pacing the room, his head bent. 'So, next, what about Lady Honor? I gather you and she have been having a merry time together.'

I glanced at Barak, who gave a shrug.

'There was something she was holding back,' I said. 'Something between her and Marchamount and the Duke of Norfolk. It has taken some digging, but that too was nothing to do with Greek Fire.'

'What was it?' he asked sharply.

I hesitated a moment. I had promised to tell nobody. But when Cromwell raised his head and gave me a look of great fierceness, I told him.

He only grunted. 'Well, let Norfolk chase her all over London instead of plotting against me. So, there is no evidence to link her with Greek Fire either?'

'No, my lord. None.' My stomach was knotted with shame for betraying Lady Honor's confidence.

He turned and paced the other way. 'And Marchamount?'

'Just a feeling he was not telling all, my lord. Barak said you would summon him.'

'I did.' He stopped and looked at me. It surprised me to see his face was not angry, only filled with a desperate weariness now. 'Marchamount has disappeared.'

'He is not always easy to find. Last week I could not reach him – he was out of London on a case.'

Cromwell shook his head. 'I sent a couple of men to his chambers. They found his clerk in a state because he had not turned up for a case, had not been in his rooms all night.' He stared at me. 'Did you threaten him with my wrath?'

'Not directly.'

'But he may have guessed he was not out of the woods and fled. Or has he gone the way of the Gristwoods?'

I shivered. 'If he is not safe, Bealknap and Lady Honor may not be either.'

Cromwell sat down again, shaking his head. 'They've been one step ahead of you all the time, haven't they?' he said in the same quiet tone. 'Whoever is behind this is the most cunning, clever rogue I've ever encountered and I've met many.' A smile flickered across his granite face. 'In another context I could admire him. Or her.' Then, to my relief, he shrugged his heavy shoulders. 'You've done your best. The game's almost done. There are only three days till the demonstration and we're no further forward in finding the formula, or the apparatus. Where in Jesu's name have they hidden that?' He turned to Barak. 'Jack, try once again to trace Toky and Wright. Tell your contacts I'll pay the pair anything if they'll come over to me.'

'I will, my lord. But even if I trace them, I doubt they'd risk changing sides at this stage.'

'Well, try again. I think I must tell the king tomorrow, Wednesday at the latest. Matthew, Barak reported the prostitute who died said the whole thing was a plot against me from the beginning.'

'Yes, my lord.'

'Well, there have been enough of those. Don't give up yet. Put your mind to it.' There was desperation in his voice. 'And go to Lincoln's Inn. They'll maybe tell you things they won't tell my men. Search Marchamount's rooms.'

'Give me until Wednesday, my lord. I will do what I can. Do not tell the king till then.'

'Have you some lead?' His eyes bored into mine. I swallowed.

'I – no. But I will think, as you ask.'

He looked at me hard for another long moment, then turned back to his desk. 'Go then,' he said. 'God's death, Grey will bury me in papers.'

His resigned, almost gentle manner so surprised me that I stood there a moment, fighting a sudden urge to tell him I had found some Greek Fire and given it to Guy. I realized that my old loyalty to him was not quite dead, after all. Barak motioned to the door and, to my surprise, I heard footsteps scurrying away as he opened it. We stepped out to see Grey sitting down at his desk, his face flustered.

Barak grinned. 'Been eavesdropping, master secretary?'

He did not reply, but reddened.

'Leave him, Barak,' I said. I thought: Grey is terrified of what may be about to happen. He is right to be. And I have found some Greek Fire and hidden it from Cromwell. For a moment I felt faint again.

BARAK AND I SAT on the steps of Westminster Hall, each deep in gloomy thought.

'I expected he'd be furious,' I said, 'but he seems – almost resigned.'

'He knows what will happen if he has to tell the king Greek Fire is lost,' he said quietly.

'What in God's name has happened to Marchamount? Is he villain or victim?'

Barak shrugged despairingly. 'Jesu knows. I'll try again for news of Toky and Wright, but I fear I'll find nothing. I think some of my contacts are being paid to keep their mouths shut.'

'Isn't it strange how, every time we approach the truth, the person we seek is killed? Almost as though someone was telling the enemy of our movements. And who took those books from Lincoln's Inn, and frightened the librarian?'

He frowned. 'I don't see that. It was Madam Neller that betrayed Bathsheba and her brother. The founder disappeared long before we got there. And Marchamount may have fled of his own accord.'

I nodded. 'That would mean he was the one behind it all. It starts to look that way.'

'It does. But we need more evidence.'

'We could go through his rooms.'

'I must look for Toky first. I'll come with you later.'

I stood up. 'Very well.' I looked at him. 'Be careful. It could be dangerous for you.'

'I can look after myself.' He stood and dusted himself down. 'It's letting my master down, that's what's hard.'

'There's still time,' I said. 'I'll meet you at home later.' I took a deep breath. 'My arm hurts.'

'My shoulder's better. He knows a few things, that old Moor.' He stood looking out over the river a moment. I followed his gaze. Something bright and fiery on the water made me start for a moment, then I saw it was only a ray of sunlight falling through the light cloud, flecking the little waves tossed up by the wind a flickering bright yellow.

I COULD SEE NOBODY through the window of Guy's shop and feared he had gone out, but when I knocked footsteps sounded in the furthest reaches of the building and he appeared. He looked tired.

'You got my message, Matthew?'

'Yes.' I slipped inside and he closed the door.

'How is Elizabeth?' he asked. 'I am going to visit her later.'

'Better. In body at least.' Briefly, I told him what we had found down the well and of my conversation with her. He gave me a penetrating look.

'And you intend to confront the family?'

'Yes. And it must be very soon. Elizabeth is back before Forbizer on Thursday.'

'Be careful,' he said. 'There is something of pure evil in this story.'

'I know.' Suddenly I felt faint again and I sat down quickly in a chair.

'What is the matter?'

'A moment's faintness. The heat.'

He came and looked down at me. 'Have you had this before?'

'Yesterday.'

'You have taken on more than a man can reasonably bear.'

'Barak seems able to manage.'

Guy smiled. 'I talked with Master Barak when he brought you here after the fire. He improves somewhat on acquaintance.'

'Ay, he said you gave him something to put in the dogs' meat.'

'Yes. But do not compare yourself to him. He is a man of the streets, a lot younger than you. And he has an adventurer's disposition.'

'And a straight back.'

'That need not trouble you so much if you would do my exercises. I suppose you will say you have had no time.'

'God's truth, I haven't.' I looked him in the eye. 'All my leads have run into the ground. And one of our suspects has disappeared, the lawyer Marchamount. We don't know yet if he's the man behind it all or if he's been killed like the others. Guy, the one thing I have left is that Greek Fire.'

He nodded. 'Come through to my workshop.'

I followed him to a back room. With its bottles and retorts full of strange fluids, its bench and complex apparatus of oddly shaped distilling glasses, it reminded me of Sepultus Gristwood's workshop.

'I did not know you had such a place here, Guy.'

'Experimenting with distillation interests me.' He smiled. 'I keep it quiet in case the locals say I'm a magician.'

I saw the pewter jar of Greek Fire on the windowsill. Guy pointed a finger at one wall and I saw that it was blackened as the Gristwoods' yard had been. 'Some of the stuff caught fire yesterday while I was trying to distil it. Filled the place with filthy black smoke. Luckily I used only a very little.'

I stared at the jar, then turned to him. 'What is it, Guy?' I asked passionately. 'What is it made of?'

He shook his head. 'I do not know, Matthew. In a way I am glad, for I would not wish anyone to have this weapon.' He spread his hands. 'I have distilled it, tried to see how it reacts with other substances, tried to find some clue to what it is. But it has defeated me.'

I felt my heart sink, though at the same time a part of me was also relieved.

'I know some reputable alchemists,' he said. 'They might be able to help, given time.'

I shook my head. 'We have no time. And I would not trust anyone but you to keep this secret.'

He spread his hands. 'Then I am sorry.'

'You did your best.' I went and opened the jar, looking at the brown stuff inside. 'What are you?' I whispered.

'All I can say is it resembles no substance I have ever seen before. Certainly its composition is nothing like that Polish stuff.'

I thought a moment. 'If you cannot work it out, how could Sepultus? By all accounts he was a rogue and no true scholar.'

'He had months to experiment. Did you not say there were six months between the stuff's discovery and his approach to Cromwell?'

'Yes.'

'And the formula may say what the constituent elements are. At least tell him enough to give him more of a start than we have. It must all come down to earth and air, fire and water in the end.' He spread his hands. 'But in which of the millions of possible combinations?'

I nodded sadly. 'Thank you for trying. You know, you are the only man I feel I can always rely on to give me true answers, solve my problems. Perhaps I expect too much.'

'Perhaps you do,' Guy said. 'I am only frail human clay, for all people think I have strange powers to go with my strange looks.'

'Perhaps I should not have asked you to deal with something so devilish.'

He looked at me seriously. 'What will you do now?'

'I don't know what is left. Cromwell asked me to think.'

He nodded at the jar. 'What shall I do with that stuff? May I destroy it?'

I hesitated, then said, 'Yes. Destroy it now. Pour it in the river.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'Are you sure? We could both be accused of treason.'

'I am sure.'

His face flooded with relief. He gripped my hand fiercely. 'Thank you. You have done right, Matthew, you have done right.'

I WALKED DOWN TO the river and stood on the bank watching the ships unload their cargo. Every week came some new wonder. I wondered whether, one day, a ship might bring something else as terrible and dangerous as Greek Fire here. I thought of St John landing a hundred years ago with his papers and the barrel. He had looked at peace in his grave. I knew now that I could never be at peace if I gave anyone in power the chance of making this thing, no matter what the consequences.

I looked across to the far bank, where I had walked with Lady Honor. The bear pit and bull ring rose high above the houses; I could hear a faint cheering from the bear pit – there must be a baiting on. I wondered if Marchamount had enjoyed his afternoon there. What had happened to him? Part of me felt, like Barak, that the game was played out. But the deadly puzzle still nagged at my mind.

A little way off I saw the tavern where we had met the sailors, the Barbary Turk. I went in. At this hour the place was empty and my footsteps echoed on the boards of the large, dusky drinking room. The giant's thigh bone still hung in its chains. I studied it for a moment, then went over to the serving hatch and ordered a mug of beer from the landlord. He was a burly fellow with the look of an ex-sailor about him. He looked curiously at my good stitched doublet.

'We don't often see gentlemen. You were in here a few nights ago, weren't you, talking to Hal Miller and his friends?'

'Ay. They told me of the time they set their table alight.'

He laughed, resting his arms on the edge of the hatch. 'That was a night. I wish they'd given me some of that stuff – I like novelties.'

'Like the giant's bone?' I nodded towards it.

'Ay, it was washed up just by the wharf here. Twenty years ago, in my father's time. Just appeared in the mud one ebb tide. People went hunting for the rest of the giant, but found no more of him. My father took the bone and hung it up here. Imagine what size the man must have been. But we are told of giants in the Bible, so that must be what it is. Better to have had the whole skeleton, but that one bone's enough to bring people here to look and that's good for trade.'

He would have talked on, but I wanted to be alone and took my beer over to the dark corner where I had sat with Barak that night.

His words, though, kept coming back to me. That one bone's enough to bring people here to look and that's good for trade. I thought of the Gristwoods, working with Toky and Wright and whoever their master was for six months before going to Cromwell, trying to make Greek Fire, hunting out the Polish drink. What a profit they must have anticipated. Profit from what had been, from the start, a plot against Cromwell.

And then, all at once, I saw what had happened. What and how, though not whom. My heart began to beat excitedly. I turned the theory over in my mind half a dozen times. It fitted the facts better than anything else. Abruptly I got up and left the inn, so preoccupied I stumbled into the giant's bone on the way out, setting it swinging once more in its chains.

I WALKED RAPIDLY to Joseph's lodgings, to fetch Genesis from the stables. The horse was waiting in his stall, placid as ever. As I rode out I glanced back at the building; it was a poor enough place, but it would be costing Joseph far more than he could afford. Faithful, tenacious Joseph, how his enthusiastic godliness and fussiness irritated me sometimes. Yet he had been utterly steadfast in his loyalty to Elizabeth. I should have gone to the Wentworths' house today, but I realized I wanted Barak with me when I did. Guy was right: there was real evil in that house. And I saw that, if my theory was correct, we could still rescue Cromwell from his plight. There was no need for more secrets.

Barak was not at home when I returned. I waited impatiently for two hours as the sun slowly set. I remembered my warning to him earlier, and hoped he had not met with danger. It was a great relief when at last I heard him come in and throw off his boots. I called him into the parlour.

'Not more bad news?' he asked, looking at my flushed face.

'No.' I closed the door. 'Barak,' I said excitedly, 'I think I have worked out what happened. This afternoon I went back to that tavern, the one where we met the sailors. There was a giant's bone hanging from the ceiling, do you remember that?'

He raised a hand. 'Wait. You're going too fast for me. What's the giant's bone to do with anything?'

'It was something the landlord said. "Better to have had the whole skeleton, but that one bone's enough to bring people here to look and that's good for trade." That set me thinking – my mind has been too full for proper thought, that's why I didn't make the connection between the Bealknap case and Richard Rich. Listen, we've wondered all this while why the Gristwoods waited six months between finding Greek Fire and going to Cromwell. Especially when according to Bathsheba they were plotting against him from the start.'

'Ay.'

'The Gristwoods knew, when they first stumbled on Greek Fire at Barry's, that this was something very big. And very profitable. Michael Gristwood worked at Augmentations and he would have known the anti-Cromwell faction was growing.'

'Everyone knew that.'

'So I think they decided to offer it to someone within the anti-reformist faction as something they could take to the king and use to advance themselves. Again, everyone knows the king's interest in ships and weaponry. The Gristwoods probably thought it was safer to be in with the coming faction.'

'Then who?' Barak asked, excited himself now. 'Marchamount? He's a protégé of Norfolk's, the earl's biggest enemy.'

'Possibly. Though, being at Augmentations, Michael had a channel to Rich and Cromwell says Rich is plotting. This puts him and Bealknap back on the list.'

'Then we have to include Lady Honor too. She's no reformist.'

'All right, for the sake of argument. At all events, the Gristwoods went to someone. Call them Cromwell's enemy for now. They took the barrel and the formula, and promised to make more Greek Fire for them. Toky and Wright were set to work to help them and probably to keep an eye on them too.'

'Yes, that fits.'

'So for six months they try to make more Greek Fire. But the stuff is like nothing they've ever seen and the formula, perhaps, referred to the use of an element they didn't have. I wondered earlier why the Romans, who knew of something like Greek Fire, didn't develop it as a weapon. There were sources, pools of strange flammable liquid in the ground, which the Byzantines had access to but the Romans didn't. Far beyond Jerusalem. And we don't have access, either, to whatever it was.'

His eyes were wide with interest now. 'Something essential to make Greek Fire?'

I nodded. 'I see Michael and Sepultus following all sorts of trails, like the Polish drink, trying different experiments, increasingly desperate.'

'Because they couldn't make Greek Fire despite having the formula.'

'Exactly. And how frustrating that must have been for them, and their masters, to have this opportunity for such power and wealth just beyond their grasp. Remember that they had reconstructed the apparatus that was used to project Greek Fire with the aid of Leighton the founder, and practised in his yard using the stuff in the barrel. They knew it worked. How frustrated, and how angry, they must have become as the winter passed and Cromwell found himself in ever greater trouble over the Cleves marriage.'

'So the demonstrations, the one I saw and the other one, used up all the stuff from the barrel?'

'They must have. All, or nearly all.'

'Ay. There must have been nearly half a barrelful in that tank, even if it was only partly filled.'

'By March I think Cromwell's enemy was losing patience with the Gristwoods. Perhaps with a better alchemist they could have divined some alternative, perhaps not. But they dared not spread the word beyond a very small circle. So they devised another plan – they decided to try and turn the fact they only had a limited amount of Greek Fire to their advantage. Oh, they have been very clever.'

'So –' Barak raised a hand, frowning – 'they went to the earl and said they had got Greek Fire, said they had made some, and he told the king.'

'Exactly. And they used a chain of contacts to reach him – Bealknap, Marchamount, Lady Honor – that would make the story sound more plausible.'

'Then none of those three need have been involved.'

'None, or some, or all.'

Barak whistled. 'And then they staged the demonstrations, using what was in the barrel. To trick the earl into making a promise to the king that he could never keep.'

'Yes. Perhaps the Gristwoods were told they'd be paid off and could flee England before Cromwell found out that there was no more Greek Fire. They weren't told about the final part of the plan – to kill them and make it appear as though the formula had been stolen and might be given to a foreign power. After Cromwell had got the king excited, and promised him a demonstration.'

'On Thursday.'

'Yes. The unfortunate founder was killed because he knew too much, I'd guess. Also the throwing device was probably in his yard and Cromwell's enemy needed to take it away.'

Barak nodded. 'You were right to go back to the beginning after all.' He frowned. 'If you're right.'

'It's the only reconstruction of events that makes everything fit.'

He stood a few moments, nibbling thoughtfully at his knuckles. I watched him anxiously, frightened he might see some hole in my theory that I had missed. But he only nodded. 'And poor Bathsheba was killed lest Michael Gristwood might have told her something between the sheets. As he had.'

'I suspect they fired Goodwife Gristwood's house with what little of the stuff they had left to show Cromwell it still existed. And as a warning of what it could do; everyone who saw that fire remarked how the house was aflame from end to end in a moment. If there was an enquiry, that would come out. Imagine how the king would react.'

Barak gave me a look of horror. 'But if you're right, there can never be another demonstration. The earl will have to tell the king anyway.'

'Yes, yes. But he can tell him the whole thing was a plot by his enemies, that the king was deceived as well. Cromwell could still turn it to his advantage. If we can find who's behind it, if he can give the king a name.'

Barak ran a hand over his shaven skull. 'Marchamount? But Marchamount may be only a victim.'

'Yes,' I agreed. 'He may.' My enthusiasm started to wane.

Barak looked at me eagerly. 'If we can uncover who the earl's enemy is, they may still have some Greek Fire. Surely they'd keep at least a little back. If that were given to the king, he could set a troop of alchemists to make it and he might have it after all.'

I had forgotten that possibility. Of course they would keep some back. I cursed inwardly, then took a deep breath.

'Why does nobody think of the death and destruction this thing could wreak? You most of all, Barak – you've seen it, you were nearly killed by it! How can you be so disturbed by what was down that well, yet face the death of thousands by fire without a second thought?'

My appeal fell on deaf ears. 'They would be soldiers. Soldiers expect to fight and die for their country.' He looked at me fixedly. 'If it will save my master, he shall have it.'

I said nothing. Fortunately he was too excited to notice the depth of my concern. 'You should write a letter to the earl at once,' he urged. 'I'll take it to Grey. He should know about this.'

I hesitated. 'Very well. It's too late to go to Lincoln's Inn now, but we'll go tomorrow and see what we can find in Marchamount's rooms.'

'If it turns out he's behind it, and we can bring proof, the earl is safe.' He smiled eagerly.

I nodded. But if we find more Greek Fire, I said to myself, Cromwell shall not have it. If I have to, I will prevent Barak from giving it to him.