I looked between them. Someone had wanted the charge of heresy against us to be put on the council agenda. But who? And why? To frighten me, assess me, to see me condemned? To try and get at the Queen through me? Which of them was accusing me of heresy? Gardiner was the most obvious candidate, but I knew how complicated the web of enmities and alliances around this table had become. I glanced quickly at my companions. Philip remained composed, though pale. Edward sat upright and attentive now, some colour back in his cheeks. Mention of the Queen had probably brought back to him what I had told him in the Tower, that this interrogation might concern the religious factions on the council. In this regard at least, whatever his dreadful turmoil of mind, Edward would try to serve the radical cause.

‘Then let us get straight to the point,’ Gardiner said reluctantly. ‘First, have any of you possessed books forbidden under the King’s proclamation? Philip Coleswyn?’

Philip returned his gaze. ‘Yes, my Lord, but all were handed in under the terms of his majesty’s gracious amnesty.’

‘You, Edward Cotterstoke?’

He answered quietly, ‘The same.’

Gardiner turned to me. ‘But you, Master Shardlake, I believe you did not hand in any books.’ So I had been right: they kept a list.

I said evenly, ‘I had none. A search was made of my house when I was arrested yesterday morning, and nothing can have been found, because I had nothing.’

Gardiner gave a nasty little half-smile, and I wondered for a dreadful moment whether a forbidden book had been planted in the house; such things were not unknown. But he said only, ‘Did you ever possess books forbidden under the Proclamation?’

‘Yes, my Lord Bishop. I destroyed them before the amnesty expired.’

‘So,’ Gardiner said triumphantly, ‘he admits he had heretical books that were not handed in. I know, Master Shardlake, that you were seen burning books in your garden.’

I stared at him. That was a shock. Only Timothy had been at the house that day, and he had been in the stables. Moreover he would never have reported it. I remembered his frantic anger when they had come to arrest me the day before. I answered quietly, ‘I preferred to destroy them. The proclamation declared only that it was illegal to keep books from the list after the amnesty expired. And I have had none since before that date.’

Wriothesley looked at me. ‘Burning books rather than handing them in surely indicates reluctance to draw your opinions to the attention of the authorities.’

‘That is pure supposition. It was never said that a list would be kept.’

Paget gave a tight smile; he was a lawyer too, and appreciated this point, though Gardiner said scoffingly, ‘Lawyer’s quibble,’ and glowered at me. I wondered, why this ferocious aggression? Did it betray his desperation to find a heretic linked to the Queen?