Original subtitles

Ready, Matthew.

Ready for whatever this day may bring.

For Lord Cromwell.

How dare they?

My commissioner.

My representative.

My voice!

It is Cromwell they have dared to silence! This cannot go unpunished!

It must not, my Lord.

I would say urgency is required.

Precision is required.

Come with me. I'll show you what this magical bird can do.

Tabitha, the English-speaking bird from the Indies. From Peruland.

Stay back. Stay back. Do not crowd her. She does not like to be jostled.

Throw a farthing at her feet...

What's this?

- And Tabitha will speak. - Devil knows.

Trickery it will be.

God save King Harry.

- God save King Harry. - Ha!

See?

That's a miracle, wouldn't you say?

A trick.

Tabitha, say, "Death to the pope." "Death to the bishop of Rome."

Death to the pope.

What? A trick, you say, sir?

- I believe so. - Ah, but the bird spoke.

The bird merely repeated a phrase first uttered by the crow.

If you would kindly repeat after me, Master Shardlake,

"God bless Lord Cromwell".

He will see you.

And you are?

Master Jack Barak, sir. At your service.

I have legal papers to present to the court.

I've spoken to the court. Your papers can wait.

Whereas my Lord Cromwell will not.

Come on.

Come on.

Keep up.

You there!

You shall give me the damned address, and I shall go at my own pace.

Oh, I'm sorry. Am I going along too quickly for you?

New boots.

They pinch.

Up these steps and through a door.

There's news of a death awaits you.

A murder, it would seem.

And the poor victim?

He was a friend of yours.

Poor Master Singleton.

Robin Singleton?

Ah, Master Shardlake, he is expecting you.

This way, sir, when you are quite ready.

I am ready.

Lord Cromwell instructed me personally to watch for your arrival.

I think he will know I have a full day of business ahead of me.

Quite.

Matthew, come here next to me.

My Lord, how good it is to see you again.

When did I see you last?

Oh, quite some months ago.

I did attend Anne Boleyn's execution.

Public witness.

So you did.

Well, she did accept her guilt.

She had little choice, given the evidence.

Anne Boleyn was an adulteress.

These trinkets will be of interest to you, Matthew.

Holy relics brought especially to my attention.

Look at that. There.

"Barbara Santissima".

It is the skull of Saint Barbara.

Never heard of her.

A young virgin murdered by her pagan father in Roman times.

'Tis most holy.

And this, this here,

is also the skull of Saint Barbara.

From Boxgrove Nunnery in Lancashire.

A two-headed saint.

Little wonder she was a virgin.

But I-I must say, I now find myself curious as to who they both were.

And that, Master Barak, is my Matthew.

Always after an answer for everything.

Precision.

We have business.

I have a task for you. A most important task.

Jack.

A task you cannot fail.

You've heard of the Monastery of St Donatus

at the channel port Scarnsea?

I have not.

St Donatus is a Benedictine house.

It has a history of vice and, like all monasteries,

a gift for greed and deceit.

Show him the letter.

Read it. Read it now.

It concerns the murder, Master Shardlake.

Dr Goodhap, you're needed.

This is something I cannot describe. It is something you must see.

Concerning Master Singleton?

You will need a lantern.

St Donatus is not the cause. That, I can assure you, Dr Goodhap.

It is the work of the evil-minded.

Bear witness, please.

Who did this?

What person would...

Stand back! Back!

I will not be next!

You knew him, of course.

- I did, my Lord. - Mmm.

I knew his methods.

Not the best lawyer, but Master Singleton was a forceful man.

Which is why he was chosen.

To confront the abbot and win a surrender.

Surrender, my Lord?

We are doing it, Matthew.

Finally reforming a corrupt church.

There are certain noblemen who remain steadfastly against me,

but I have agreed with King Henry

a list of 12 monasteries that are to close.

St Donatus shall be the first, evidence permitting.

This is good news, my Lord. Good news for the public purse.

Uh, the wealth these closures will bring is...

You would think an emissary of the king being murdered

would be reason enough for closure, but no.

The guilty man must be identified and evidence listed.

If that man is a Benedictine monk, all well and good.

If not, then the order of St Donatus

must be proven to be papists, thieves or sodomites.

Or all three.

Each and every case supported with evidence.

I am not above the laws of England, Matthew.

Why no, my Lord. As no man should be.

All of that said, the house must fall.

It is the purpose of the reforms, is it not,

to rid the land of men who grow fat on sin

while ordinary folk do suffer cold, hunger?

And the author of the letter, my Lord?

Is a Dr Goodhap.

There solely to assist Master Singleton.

He has the heart of a mouse, it seems.

The people, Matthew, have been exploited for long enough.

A murderer is to be found.

The monastery's to close, its wealth surrendered to the Crown.

To the people.

A beginning.

You will not fail me. Neither of you.

I shall not fail you, my Lord.

I am to travel with you.

I would rather choose my own assistant.

I'm not your assistant.

I'll collect you from your house at noon.

I have no need of your company.

Oh. Well, take the matter to Lord Cromwell.

Walk through that door, go up the stairs,

and enter the room to your left, Master Shardlake.

My Lord of Norfolk.

What a pleasure.

You were summoned most urgently to meet with Thomas Cromwell.

I should like to know why.

Or must I have you followed and watched daily?

I am to go to a place called Scarnsea, my Lord.

St Donatus?

Yes.

You are to obtain its surrender and its wealth.

I feel that some of my conversation with Lord Cromwell should remain private,

my Lord.

But I must say, you are a most astute man.

Nobleman.

Who will benefit from this wealth?

The king. Cromwell himself.

The people shall see not a penny.

It is theft in the name of God.

You will write to me, Master Shardlake, the very minute your wicked deed is done.

Understood, crook back?

Alice, you walk careful now. There is ice about the place.

Thank you, Master Bugge.

Dr Goodhap. It's me, Alice.

I have your meal.

I do worry that Dr Goodhap will convey the thoughts of the previous commissioner

onto the next commissioner without annotation.

Of course he will.

Then there is no respite.

All we can do, Brother Edwig, is hold our calm.

Is he here yet?

No, sir, he's not.

You must eat something.

Eat and risk losing my life to a poison?

Satan has taken control of this place.

I will not be next!

Sir, there is a distracting codpiece at the door.

Is it alone?

It is worn by a young man.

Let him in. His name is Master Barak.

You're eating. I'd hoped to leave immediately.

If we are to ride through the night, I shall require fuel.

Hmm. And furthermore, I'm not packed.

Sit.

I will.

Sir, would the codpiece like a bowl of broth?

He would.

Thank you.

Well, she has confidence.

- She does. - Is she your housekeeper?

Why exactly are you here, Master Barak? Why exactly do I need you?

Well, I assume Lord Cromwell does not wish to lose another lawyer.

Ah, you are to protect me.

I am capable of protecting myself.

You are? Hurrah!

Milady, I, uh, I did not catch your name.

It is Joan.

Joan.

Thank you.

- She's married. - I'm not surprised.

She's a very well-built woman.

I do not like you.

Admittedly, I do not know you,

but my first impressions are rarely incorrect.

Is it me or my attire you do not like?

If you are here to spy, then say it.

Mmm.

That's excellent broth.

You know, in time, I too hope to have a well-built housekeeper.

What is this? What?

Well, you know what it is. It is childish, Matthew. It is pathetic.

Well, I am educated and respected. So, there.

Although I cannot wear a codpiece that would catch the eye.

Well, I could, but it'll catch the eye for no good reason.

As others are noted for their something, I'm noted for my gait.

Well, it is I, and I embrace it.

It's my disguise.

Ready once again.

I am ready for Scarnsea.

It's commissioners!

- Open up the gates. - It's commissioners!

Come on! Get those gates open!

They said they were commissioners for the king, Brother.

Thought it best we let them in.

Sir, we've been expecting you.

Are you the Abbot Fabian?

I'm Brother Mortimus of Kelso, the abbot's assistant in command.

The abbot is where?

The abbot is engaged.

Then you will fetch him for us.

We have been riding for two days.

To whom am I speaking?

- Master Jack Ba... - Master Matthew Shardlake.

Emissary of Lord Cromwell.

Master Jack Barak. Also Lord Cromwell's man.

King's man.

Master Bugge, tend to the horses please.

I'll take good care of them, Brother.

Gentlemen.

Will you kindly tell me, is Robin Singleton dead?

He is.

Struck down by invaders.

Invaders, he claims.

Well, then we shall see him.

Just as soon as we are fed and met with our partner, Dr Goodhap.

Who remains alive, we trust?

Whelplay, you fool.

Why must everything you touch descend into chaos?

- Brother Mortimus, I swear I did nothing. - It was accidental, Brother.

Must I starve you further? Must I whip you?

Please, Brother. I did ba...

Is that the only instruction you understand?

- No, sir. - You have been heard, Brother Mortimus.

Of that, I am certain.

You will be calm with the boy.

His error was not intentional.

Was me own fault, sir.

I am clumsy.

There, by his own admission, the boy's a fool.

Well, perhaps because you have told him so and often.

Now, you will fetch me Dr Goodhap.

Alice, tend to this carnage.

Yes, Brother.

I shall fetch Dr Goodhap for our important visitor.

Uh, important visitors.

- Alice, I'm s-so sorry. - It's not important to me.

Think he likes you.

You curious?

I am an emissary of the king.

Do you wish to speak to me?

The abbot would like to see us tonight for dinner.

- Very well. - Master Matthew Shardlake,

this is canon lawyer Dr Goodhap.

Good evening to you, doctor.

I will say that I am here very much against my will, Master Shardlake,

and I would prefer not to leave my room

until the very moment I'm leaving this place permanently.

He's a friendly sort.

Good evening to you.

Sir, I would like you to calm yourself and tell me exactly what has happened.

Oh, you know what's happened here.

A lawyer has been murdered as my letter.

Now, all I wish to do is to leave.

You will leave when I deem you can leave,

and not before you have imparted every ounce of your knowledge.

However limited.

Now, each monk of interest shall be named,

and every thought and theory that Master Singleton had shall be shared.

Every thought, you say.

Well,

examine Master Singleton's head, sir, and you shall find it hollow.

He had no thoughts. He had no theories.

He had bluster. Wind.

He was chosen personally by Lord Cromwell.

What I'm saying is that he had no thoughts that he did care to share.

Ah.

And, regretfully, his unwillingness to take me into his confidence

has made the task of closing this house

impossible.

As the French would say.

His discoveries did die with him, as was the intention, I'm sure.

No, no, no, Brother. You'll do that later.

They are for evening prayer.

Later.

He is Brother Gabriel.

I'm sorry... Is your intention to eavesdrop, Brother?

No, sir. This is a task I carry out at this time each and every evening.

You have been told.

Later.

Come on.

Was it you up in the gallery just now?

It was not, sir.

The gallery and rooftop, they're closed for repair.

Master Singleton did keenly examine the monastery's record of accounts.

The sale of land and such.

Land and such?

He did not share his findings, if any.

However, you... you must understand, Abbot Fabian is a clever man.

He knows there can be no forced closure.

He knows there must be proof of a misstep, which I doubt you will find.

He has his brethren well-schooled.

He's also got one dead commissioner.

Outsiders, he will claim.

Invaders.

Because it cannot be proven otherwise.

The monastery is enclosed and isolated from the town by marshland and distance.

Access for invaders would be difficult, I would argue.

But not... ... impossible.

Do not be fooled by the robes.

These are ruthless, determined men, bound together not by God,

but by preservation and greed.

You will learn not to stare, Brother.

What's that?

You dine well, Abbot Fabian. You're most hospitable.

We work hard, Master Shardlake.

We grow our own vegetables. We rear livestock.

Everything on our table is a product of St Donatus.

And the wine is from where?

We trade, sir, with France.

Mmm.

Scarnsea is not the port it once was, but it remains a port.

He is Brother Edwig. The bookkeeper.

I am.

To whom Master Singleton paid much attention.

He did,

and was satisfied with the records kept, I believe.

God rest his soul.

Brother Edwig had the good fortune of being away on business

the night Master Singleton was slain.

The business of barley and yield.

Brother Gabriel, you are the sacrist, I see.

Yes. Yes, I am.

And a sodomite.

Of course, he is a sodomite. He is a man.

That is not true.

We are all sodomites, Brother.

Sodomites, gluttons and hoarders.

- It is not true. - Thomas Cromwell did say so.

- You should enjoy your food, Brother. - Thomas Cromwell is never mistaken.

He is the Antichrist.

Take a sip of wine.

I condemn him to hell.

- There, I've said it aloud. - Brother Jerome, you will cease now.

He is unwell.

Thomas Cromwell, his king and his followers...

- Brother Jerome. - I damn them all.

Jerome, please. You must calm yourself.

Why should I not damn each and every one of them?

He did murder his queen

with lies.

Sir, he is disturbed by his past.

Does my oath offend you?

Does my faith, which was once your faith, sicken you?

Brother Mortimus.

If you are indeed Cromwell's man, then, like the wretch before you,

an axe will find your neck.

- Jerome! - Please!

Take your hands from me.

- I am torn and broken enough. - Now, stop this! You are a good man.

A man of peace. A man of God.

Cromwell is of the devil.

He is of the devil himself.

Away with him. Away!

Please, Brother. Please.

Master Shardlake, I must apologise.

Brother Jerome is not of our order.

He does not belong here. He was forced upon us.

He's a cousin to the new queen, Queen Jane.

And we care for him as... as a favour, you could say.

He's Carthusian.

The rack has left its mark.

It is not our concern, Brother Guy.

He is someone we could do without.

Was that a confession we did hear?

He spoke of an axe.

What you heard was the ramblings of a tormented mind.

Regardless, I shall need to speak with him.

As you wish.

I wish.

You keep your brethren well-schooled, Lord Abbot.

Strict rules.

Obey or be punished.

The boy is a trial.

I can assure you.

Why, in this house of God, do I smell secrets and fear?

We have no secrets.

And with respect, Master Shardlake, it is of you and Lord Cromwell we are afraid.

Well, if you've committed no crime,

you've no reason to be afraid.

Forgive me, sir, but that is never true.

You're not from these shores, Brother Guy.

I was born in Málaga, Spain.

Somehow, you washed up here, to Scarnsea-by-the-silt.

There are worse places.

London, for one.

If the monastery were to close, Brother Guy, to where would you travel?

- Home? - This is my home.

My work is my home, sir.

There is no need for the monastery to close. None.

It was Brother Guy who first did discover Master Singleton dead.

I did.

He has lain here for four days.

The cold should have kept him fresh.

Let us have the lid off.

That's not so fresh, I fear.

What would you say about the manner of his death?

Well, I mean, I'd say what is obvious.

His head's been taken from his shoulders.

Well, I did not think he died of a cough.

But there is more to see.

Now, I would guess that the assailant is... Was of at least medium height.

- Possibly taller. - How can you say that?

Master Singleton was a tall man.

Well, without a head, it's hard to tell.

See how the neck is cut at an angle?

The head sits unevenly on the stone.

It does.

Further, observe how clean the wound is.

That, too, is difficult to achieve.

It could not be done with an axe.

It's a swordsman.

Most definitely a sword.

Sharp and effective.

Singleton was executed as if he were royalty,

like Queen Anne Boleyn.

God rest her soul.

Sir, I can state this as a fact.

There are no swords here at St Donatus,

and there are certainly no swordsmen.

There once were men who were soldiers within your ranks, surely.

Some, myself included.

But this is not the work of a principled soldier.

It is the work of the devil.

You will tell the abbot that I have seen Master Singleton.

He can now be buried as a Christian.

I believe I have a vocation, sir.

- Say again? - Brother Andrew...

I believe I have a vocation, sir.

Boy, you can never be a priest. Do you not realise that?

You know the book of Genesis says that God made us in his own image, do you not?

Yes, Brother.

To serve the church, you must conform to that image.

Look at yourself.

Hmm?

Boy.

Huh?

I-I'm sorry, I was thirsty. It's just a mouthful.

A sip of water is allowed.

Now, I will need no more than a moment.

Did you know Master Singleton?

Did he speak with you?

Well, did he?

I imagine he would.

He did, sir.

And what did he ask you?

What did you speak of?

You can talk to me, boy. I do not bite.

He asked if I'd been affectionate, sir.

I've not. I swear.

I see.

Affectionate with whom?

- With a brother? - I have not.

I do believe you.

What else did he ask?

We've been told to take care with our words.

- May I go, sir? I feel sickly. - Told by whom?

Told by the abbot?

Or Brother Mortimus?

Does the brother beat you often?

I can help you.

Please.

I have nothing to tell.

My role is to prevent people in power from abusing that power.

Sir.

I can help you, and I would like you to help me.

There are those who would do their best to deceive me, I'm sure, but not you.

I know it.

You will speak the truth.

What's this?

Is it a gift for someone?

It's just something I made, sir.

May I go now?

Yes, you may go now.

Think on what you know.

And what you have seen.

Yes, sir.

Why is it you feel you must hide in the shadows, Brother?

Please, show yourself and speak.

If you have something to say, then say it.

You're here. I know it.

If you have something to say

facts to offer...

Fetch him.

Yes, sir.

Master Shardlake.

Master Shardlake.

- Commissioner. - Uh, one moment.

Simon, drink.

He has a fever.

He's weak and confused, as you'll see.

I found him, sir, lying on the refectory floor when I was doing me rounds.

- What ails him? - Mighty blow to his head.

There's that, but what concerns me is a congestion of the lungs and the fever.

I did carry him here on me back.

He needs rest, but insists upon speaking with you.

- Then I shall need privacy. - Sir, if you could be brief.

I have given him a potion...

If you would all stand back. Further back.

Uh, his name? Christian name.

It is Simon.

Simon.

Commissioner, is that...

You're here?

I am.

You wish to speak to me.

You were sent here to do justice.

I am. Truth and justice are my currency.

He is not the first to be killed.

Not the first. Master Singleton?

Not the first.

I did warn her of the danger.

Did warn her? You did warn Alice?

You warned her of what?

So sweet.

I want to be gone from here.

Take me with you.

Simon. Simon, if Master Singleton was not the first, then who was?

I cannot say.

Simon, I can protect you. Do you hear me?

I can help you.

- Master Shardlake. - Yes, yes, yes. I know.

His fever will either break, or it will kill him.

What is it you do not want me to hear?

And why give him a potion?

Sir, he wants to rest.

We all need our rest.

It is the middle of the night.

Alice, if I may have a quiet word.

The boy did say that he warned you.

About what?

That's what I'm asking.

He's warned me of nothing, sir.

Think on your past conversations.

There are none. I've... I've barely spoken to the boy.

Alice, I would not like to think of you in danger,

and I do not mean to frighten you.

The fever may well have addled his mind, but danger is what he said.

From who? From where?

You do not feel yourself threatened?

No, sir.

Yeah, from time to time, I've had hands and approaches,

but, like all women, I must deal with it.

Why must you deal with it?

Because it is nuisance.

Well, I am here for you if you need me,

is what I'm trying to say without clarity.

Thank you, sir. I'm grateful.

A pretty face, Matthew, and you're a bumbling fool. Fool!

God save me.

The whole investigation becomes secondary.

Yes, I shall protect you, lady. I shall sweep you off your dainty feet,

and we shall marry,

and we shall have a son or two... Ten!

Think of what you must do.

Find this swordsman.

Unmask this deadly monk.

They will misjudge you, Matthew.

No matter.

It will be their own bad luck.

St Donatus shall be the first.