‘Head wounds make much blood,’ Cecil observed – calmly enough, though he stayed a couple of feet from the bed.

‘He was killed the same way as Greening,’ I said. ‘Struck on the head. And that cart and tarpaulin were almost certainly arranged to take him away. They didn’t want a great hue and cry.’ I looked at the body again. I thought of Bealknap, lying in his bed. But he had been rotten with sickness, ready to die, whereas Elias had been but eighteen, full of young life. I turned to Cecil. ‘Did you believe what you said, about Elias being safe in the arms of Jesus?’

The young lawyer looked stung. ‘Of course. Do you wish to say a prayer with me now, as I told his mother we would?’ he asked stiffly.

‘No,’ I answered, and asked bluntly, ‘What do you plan to do with the corpse?’

‘Lord Parr has some contacts. I should think he will arrange to have it buried out on the Lambeth marshes.’

I looked at him. ‘Lord Cromwell used to do that, with inconvenient bodies. I remember.’

Cecil looked at me hard with those protuberant eyes. ‘In high politics, Serjeant Shardlake, there are always people who work in the dark. You should know that. Do you want a commotion about the murder of two radical Protestant printworkers? Men with possible links to the Queen? There must be a link, mustn’t there, or Lord Parr would not be involved?’

I nodded reluctantly, turning away from the sight of Elias’s shattered head. ‘What of Greening’s three friends, Master Cecil? What if they are dead too?’

He shook his head. ‘The evidence suggests they all fled their homes. They may have learned that the two men who killed Greening were about.’

I nodded agreement. That sounded right. ‘I want something done for that poor woman.’

‘As I said, I will ask Lord Parr.’

‘It is what the Queen would wish. Send someone soon,’ I added.

WE LEFT GOODWIFE ROOKE sitting wearily at her table and went back outside. We examined the cart; it was just a cheap wooden one, the tarpaulin old. But it was not valueless; it was unlikely someone would have just left it in these streets.

We walked slowly back to Paternoster Row. ‘Why did Elias not flee with those others?’ Cecil asked.

‘Because he had a mother and two sisters to support, and could not just abandon them.’

He nodded agreement. ‘I will report back to Lord Parr now. He will probably want to talk to you when you go to the Queen’s Wardrobe tomorrow morning. With your assistant, the one who used to work with Lord Cromwell,’ he added, looking at me curiously.

‘Cromwell was a hard and ruthless man. But he had beliefs. If he could see how those he promoted turned out – Paget, Rich, Wriothesley, helping Gardiner fight against everything he believed in.’ I shook my head.