In the Buttermarket, crowds gathered around the stone cross and the horse trough in the centre of the cobbles, the formidable towers of Christ Church gate casting their shadow across the coloured awnings of the market stalls. There was a great deal of animation in the buzz and hum of conversation, the townspeople clearly stirred up by the excitement of another killing in their midst.
Tom Garth stood solid as a stone column in his alcove under the gatehouse arch, arms folded across his broad chest. His expression when he saw me was even more hostile than it had been the day before, yet he nodded me through, holding out his right hand.
Your knife, sir. He did not meet my eye. Are you here for divine service?
I unstrapped the knife from my belt and placed it into his outstretched palm. What time is it?
Holy Communion at nine, sir. Youre early.
I will call on Doctor Robinson in the meantime. I hesitated. You were very angry last night, it seemed.
He looked away as if he had not heard me.
At the Three Tuns, I persisted.
I have good cause, he said eventually, still not meeting my eye. He turned my knife between his hands.
Young Master Kingsleys manners would try anyones patience, I ventured.
You seemed tight enough with him and his crowd last night, for a newcomer, he flashed back, finally glaring at me, then appeared to regret having spoken and returned his attention to the knife.
I wished only to take his money.
Garth raised his eyes and looked at me with new curiosity.
And did you?
To make money at cards, sometimes you first need to lose a little. To build the trust of your companions.
Unexpectedly, Garth smiled. It transformed his large, crude features from their habitual suspicious frown to an expression of bright amusement.
You lost, then.
I acknowledged the truth of this with a laugh.
I damned well did. But Ill get it back next time.
I never heard a churchman talk like that before.
I am not your ordinary churchman.
He nodded, as if to say that much was plain.
Well, I wish you luck of it. Take all the blasted money you can from that whoreson, begging your pardon, sir. He glanced at the cathedral with guilty eyes, as if it might disapprove of his language, and his face grew hard again.
If he owes you a debt, can you not go to law?
He shook his head, his lips pressed together.
You would not understand.
Try me, I said gently. I know a little of English law. A little was the truth; I lacked any knowledge to advise him, but I hoped to win his confidence.
He sighed, and glanced over his shoulder, biting the knuckle of his thumb.
His father was the local justice, you know? He lowered his voice, even though no one was within earshot.
The man who was murdered here in the cathedral?
He muttered an acknowledgement and looked down.
What help could my family expect from the law when the man who owed us made the law?
Was it a large sum?
He twisted his big body awkwardly and did not answer.
The debt, I mean?
What that man owed my family He paused and twitched his head slightly, as if to dislodge a persistent fly. It was a debt you cant put a price on. Another pause; this time he looked at me, as if considering whether I merited his trust. He leaned in slightly. My sister died in his house, nine years ago.
You think he was responsible?
He clenched his teeth.
Theres one thing you learn quickly as the son of a poor man and thats not to accuse rich men of what you cant prove. I was only fifteen when she died. My mother near lost her wits over it. She used to stand with her hair all unbound and denounce him in the marketplace like a madwoman, till they put her in the stocks for it. Now she wont even leave the house. Thats why people call her a witch. I thought I could make Sir Edward see reason, give us something for our loss. Soon learned otherwise, didnt I, he added, his voice thick with bitterness.
What happened?
He said hed have me arrested for malicious slander and extortion if I ever repeated those words or any like them. Then he had me beaten black and blue, teach me a lesson. Cant prove that either, but I know he ordered it.
But why do you think your sisters death was his doing?
He sniffed and fixed his eyes on a point above my head.
Strong as a horse, our Sarah. Never seen her take ill a day all the time we was growing up. She never died of no fever, whatever he said.
Did she see a doctor? I asked, though I remembered that Fitch had said Sir Edward called the physician out to her at his own expense. Garths face darkened with anger.
He had Ezekiel Sykes out to her, didnt he, and all of Canterbury knows he meddles with what he shouldnt. He spat the words so fiercely that he had to wipe his mouth on his sleeve. I saw his hand was shaking.
How do you mean?
Hes one of them He frowned. I forget the word. You knowthat tries to turn iron into gold.
An alchemist?
Aye, thats what they say. Witch, more like. Garth narrowed his eyes. Why you so interested, anyway?
I shrugged. I took a dislike to this Nicholas Kingsley. He cheats at cards. Id have been glad to see you teach him a lesson last night.
He nodded slowly, still wary. I lost my temper last night. Id had a drink. Should know by now Ill get nothing that way.
I made as if to leave, then half turned.
Do you mind the gate here every evening, Master Garth?
Aye. His face closed up again; he seemed to be bracing himself for an argument.
The night young Kingsleys father was murdered too?
Wasnt me killed him, if thats what you mean, he snapped, taking a step towards me, his nostrils flaring, almost before the words were out of my mouth. It was the wife. Ask anyone. Thats why she ran the next day.
I held up my hands as if to ward off misunderstanding.
I didnt mean to suggest Then you must have seen her, surely?
He slumped, the sudden flash of anger abated, and rolled his shoulders, his face uneasy.
I saw her come in for Evensong, that I do remember. But I dont recall seeing her leave, as I told the constable next day. First thing I know of it, Canon Langworth comes running up after supper like hes seen the Devil himself, yelling that hes found Sir Edward murdered.
But the other gates are all locked after Evensong, are they not? So anyone leaving after that time must have to pass you here at this gate.
Or hide themselves. He leaned in confidentially. These precincts are full of nooks and crannies, you must have seen. The canons do the rounds and lock the gates after the service when everyone has left, but anyone with unfinished business could easily tuck themselves away unseen. The church is as good a place as any.
But she would still have had to come out, I persisted, to have been at home when they came to tell her the news.
I dont recall, he repeated, more stubbornly this time, though his eyes were evasive. Look here. He tilted his neck to one side and then the other stiffly, as if it was causing him discomfort. I wont pretend I was sorry. It was no secret I hated him. And I can be quick with my fists sometimes, but I couldnt do what she did. Strike a man from behind, in the dark, with a crucifix? He shook his head. Thats a cowards way. Or a womans.
I moved back towards him, alert.
A crucifix? Was that what killed him?
So they reckon. They found it the next day, slung into the long grass in the orchard, covered in blood and brains. Big silver cross with a heavy base, one of those they have in the church.
So she took it from the cathedral, then?
Garth rubbed the back of his neck.
Must have. From the crypt, they said. It was the one used to stand on that little altar down there.
I whistled.
To kill a man on consecrated ground, with the cross of Christ. Mother Mary! Only someone with no fear of God could think of it.
Neither God nor the Devil, Garth muttered.
A man with no fear of the Devil would be a fool indeed, said a new voice from behind me, smooth and polite. Of whom do you speak, Garth?
Garth flinched like a dog that fears a kick; I turned sharply to see John Langworth standing at the gatehouse entrance, wearing the same funereal black robe. He had appeared silently just as he had the previous day, like a bird of prey. In daylight his face seemed even sharper, the skin stretched tight over the bones so that, looking at him, I had the impression of seeing his naked skull as it would appear if his grave were opened years hence. Despite the warmth of the day, I shivered. Langworth seemed to trail the chill of the crypt around with him, as if the summer dare not venture too close to his person.
Ah, and our Italian friend, Signor Savolino. Good day. He gave me a thin smile and offered his hand. Back to admire the glories of our church?
I had rather hoped to admire the glories of your library today, I said, with forced politeness, shaking his cool hand. Doctor Robinson has kindly offered to introduce me to the canon librarian.
Again, I fear we have little to excite a travelling scholar, he said, inclining his head in an attitude of regret. The great abbey of St. Augustine once boasted the finest library in Englandsome two thousand volumes. You may see the ruins of it outside the city wall, beyond the Burgate. A handful were saved from the flames and brought here, but nothing remarkable. Still, he said briskly, as if pulling himself back from the past, yours is a happier task than mine today. It seems another dreadful murder has been committed in the city only this morning. I must go and see what comfort I can offer the family. Im afraid I shall miss divine service.
I nodded and made as if to go on my way into the precincts. He swept past, his robe billowing at his heels. As he was about to pass into the market square, he turned.
OhGarth! If you should happen to see any of the carpenters in the precincts, remind them of the casement in my back parlour, would you? I can never find any of the workmen when I need them. It would be convenient if they could do something this morning while Im out.
If I see Master Paine, Ill tell him, Canon Treasurer, Garth called back, with a nod of deference. When Langworth had disappeared out of sight, he turned to me and rolled his eyes. Thinks his broken window should be the master carpenters first priority, he muttered, shaking his head.
I made a vague murmur of sympathy.
Well, I will not trespass on your time any longer, I said, smiling.
Garth squinted towards the street.
Communion servicell be busy this morning. Always is when theres been a death. Best place for the gossips to get together. He brandished my knife at me in its sheath. Dont worry, I shall take good care of this, sir, and see you by and by.
I nodded and passed through the archway into the cathedral precincts, where I stood for a moment, allowing my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the day after the shadows of the gatehouse and trying to decide, with racing heart, where to go next. I had thought I might take the opportunity of being inside the precincts to visit the crypt again before I called on Harry, but Langworths departing words had given me a new idea. If the treasurer was out all morning and his house had a broken window
My stomach tightened; it was almost too audacious, especially after Harrys explicit warning about Langworth. But the treasurers friendship with Sir Edward Kingsley, together with the fact that he had found the body and raised the alarm, meant that he had to be regarded as a suspect, and if Harry was not willing to explore the possibility, despite being charged with watching Langworth, then I would not shy away from the prospect. I at least had no position in Canterbury to lose.
Sophia had mentioned that her husband kept the key to his mysterious cellar on a chain at his belt, yet Langworth had not returned any key to her along with Sir Edwards other valuables. Had Langworth taken that key? If he was one of the magistrates close confidants, perhaps he had some idea of what was in the cellar. Was it something he needed to move, or keep hidden? Something that gave him reason to kill?
But hovering above all this was the figure of Lord Henry Howard. He trusted Langworth; did he trust him enough to make him custodian of the secret book I had seen in his house last autumn, before his arrest? That bookthe lost book of the writings of the Egyptian sage Hermes Trismegistus, perhaps the only remaining copy in existence, the book Howard had believed would teach a man the secrets of immortalitywas as precious to Howard as it was to me. I was certain he would not have risked leaving it among his own possessions, where the queens searchers might find it on the occasion of his arrest. And shortly afterwards, his nephew, the Earl of Arundel, had come into Kent to meet Langworth. Arundel had also been under suspicion over the conspiracy last autumn; Howard might have told him to entrust the book to someone far from the eyes of the queens pursuivants. If there was the slightest chance that Langworth knew the fate of that book, I was prepared to risk almost anything to find out.
I had no idea which of the houses around the edge of the precincts might be Langworths, nor how to ask without arousing suspicion. Neither did I want to walk past Harrys house in case the sharp-eyed Samuel saw me through a window. I squinted to my left at the cathedral, pale and solid under the morning sun. Ahead of me, I noticed a man approaching from the eastern side of the precincts, pushing a barrow loaded with planks of wood; I quickened my pace and assumed an air of confidence.
Excuse me, I said as I drew level, but I wonder if you can help meI have to deliver a letter to the canon treasurers house, but Im afraid Im confused as to which one it is.
The man rested his barrow on the ground, wiped his hands on the front of his dirty smock, and gestured the way he had come, through the middle gate.
All the way round the end of the corona on the other side, opposite the treasury. When he saw my blank look, he added, The treasury is built on the side of St. Andrews chapel. Sticks out from the north side. You cant miss the houseits the only one of three storeys on that side.
And will his servant be there to receive it, if he is not?
He keeps no servant. A woman from the town comes in to clean for him now and then, I believe. If hes not there, youll have to come back later, or try one of the other canons.
I thanked him, relieved, and watched as he hefted his load up again and set off towards the Archbishops Palace. Once he had rounded the corner, I glanced to my right and left; the precincts on the south side were still deserted. I could not walk around the end of the apse without passing Harrys house. The only possibility was to go through the cathedral. There was a small door at the end of the southwest transept; I hurried across, tried the handle, and found it open. As silently as I could, I closed the door behind me and stepped into the sacred hush of the cathedral church.