Roberta Gellis (18 page)

Bell shrugged. “Hate for Master Mainard? Although, to speak the truth, I have not found a single person who will say a word against him—except that he should have beaten his wife and did not. Possibly only self-protection, to make it seem Mainard or Codi was guilty, in case he had been seen entering or leaving the Lime Street house. Certainly, to find her by Mainard’s shop would muddy the waters for you.”

“And he made me look a fool for not examining the place more carefully.” Octadenarius’s mouth was set in a grim line. “So are you about to leave the matter with me now?”

“If you so order, my lord Justiciar, I must obey, but I beg you will not. Magdalene would be furious with me, and, if the criminal is one of the men who was in Master Mainard’s workshop, she must know him because the Bridge Guild often meets in her house. It is convenient, and what they say to each other will be carried no farther. Many find her house useful and comfortable for private meetings. The fee is the same as at any good inn and the security much greater.”

Octadenarius nodded. “I am aware. But her mouth is sealed shut, that woman. I have tried to get information from her in the past, and she would tell me nothing. And I had the feeling that if I persisted I would have William of Ypres paying me an unwelcome visit.”

A muscle in Bell’s jaw jumped, and he saw that Octadenarius had noted it. “Yes,” he said, trying to keep his voice indifferent. “Since Lord William commonly uses the Old Priory Guesthouse as a meeting place with people who would rather not be caught consorting with him, he values Magdalene’s unwillingness to talk about her clients—except when he cannot get information either. But that is trade or politics, honest or dishonest, not murder. And do not forget that this time she is protecting one of her own. She is fierce as a lioness in defense of her women. She will talk about those five men—at least to me.”

Again the crinkles around the justiciar’s eyes indicated amusement, but he did not smile and only asked blandly, “So do you wish me to leave this matter in your hands?”

“I would like best if I could continue to examine the crime under your authority as Justiciar, Master Octadenarius. The bishop has nothing to do with this, and if I may not act as his hand, I am only a poor, simple knight and no one need answer me or obey me. Also, I am a little short of men, as I came with only four.”

At that the justiciar laughed aloud. “I see. I am to furnish men and power and you—”

“Privileged information and, I hope, a murderer,” Bell said, grinning. “What I need most now, to speak the truth, is men who know the East Chepe and Lime Street to question the neighbors about anything they saw or heard on Saturday afternoon. We know when the messenger from Bertrild’s uncle arrived, but not when he departed and if it can be discovered where he went. Also we must learn whether anyone besides the messenger came to the house, whether Mistress Bertrild went out and returned with someone, whether there was any activity noted in her garden or the alley near the back of her house not only that afternoon but also after dark.”

“I cannot complain. Those are sensible inquiries. Very well, I will send out some of my people tomorrow.”

“Thank you, my lord Justiciar. In turn, I will discover what, if anything, Magdalene has learned, and I will attend the burying of Mistress Bertrild.”

“You will report to me anything you discover?”

“Yes, Master Octadenarius. However, there are several cases in which the bishop has an interest that are to be presented tomorrow afternoon, and for me, the bishop’s business must come first, of course. Between that and Mistress Bertrild’s burying in the morning, I will have little chance tomorrow to discover what Magdalene knows.” That was not strictly true; in fact Bell intended to visit Magdalene while her women were all busy and they could talk alone. But that was none of Octadenarius’s affair, and Bell continued without any hesitation. “I should be able to catch her on Tuesday morning, before any clients arrive, so I will likely come about this time on Tuesday to tell you what I have learned.”

The justiciar bowed his head in acknowledgment, and Bell set down his empty winecup and rose.

“It is full dark,” Octadenarius said. “Will you be safe riding…ah…wherever you are riding?”

Bell patted his sword. “Quite safe,” he said, but he was glad when a servant appeared very promptly in response to Octadenarius’s bellow, and he left the house with no more than a farewell bow and a half-lifted hand.

He was in no mood to respond to the justiciar’s mild teasing or to satisfy his curiosity. In fact, he did not know when he mounted his hired horse where he was going. The temptation to cross the bridge and stop at the Old Priory Guesthouse was very strong; however, Sabina was there, which meant there would be no empty chamber for him. A good excuse to pay for a place in Magdalene’s bed? Heat flooded his loins and his instant response made him shift backward in the saddle. The horse jibbed and he relaxed the rein he had unconsciously tightened.

No! He would not be pulled to her house by his rod. Bell tapped the horse’s sides with his heels, and when he did pass Magdalene’s gate, pushed the beast into a trot. It would be stupid to stop there. At the bishop’s house he would find servants to care for the horse and to return it to the livery stable in the morning. At Magdalene’s he would have to feed and unsaddle the beast himself. Moreover, he would have to go back to the bishop’s house anyway. His clothing was there, and he would need a decent dark gown or at least a more sober tunic for a burying. And finally, he thought as he turned the corner to the road to the bishop’s house, if she had another client, Magdalene might refuse him.

* * * *

By late Monday afternoon, after the bishop’s business was finished, Bell’s doubts were gone—not about the wisdom of buying Magdalene’s favors; free of the sudden rush of desire, he knew he was not ready to capitulate to her demand he take her only as a whore. Restored to common sense, however, he accepted the need to see and speak to her. He had attended Bertrild’s funeral, which had been interesting and worth discussing in the light of what she might know of the five men under suspicion, but what Mainard had found after Bell had left him on Sunday might be more significant.

For a time after the coffinmaker had set the box on its trestles in the common chamber, Mainard told Bell, he had just sat beside it, still unable to absorb what had happened. At dinnertime, Jean had come in, scratching the doorframe timidly, and when Mainard looked up, had asked his master whether he wanted food brought in or served in the solar and what he preferred to eat.

Mainard had been about to say he was not hungry and send the man away when he realized that Jean was clad in little more than rags. Whatever Bertrild had done, it was not fitting that servants should attend to guests at her burying in such disgraceful condition, he thought. So he had told Jean to have his dinner brought to the solar, above, and when he had eaten it—he found he was hungry as a wolf once he began—he started to look through Bertrild’s chest to find garments suitable for the cook and the maid.

Most of the dresses were too richly ornamented, but at the very bottom of the chest were some worn gowns from which the embroidered collars and facings had been removed. And when those were lifted out, Mainard saw the bundles of tally sticks. He told Bell he had stood staring, knowing there was something foul connected with those hidden accounts.

He had given the clothing to the maid and sent her away, weeping with joy. Then he had removed and examined the tally sticks. He had not recognized the banker’s mark, but that had been no surprise, he told Bell; if Bertrild had hidden the accounts from him, she would not be likely to use the same banker as he did. That had spurred him to send the now passably clad cook and maid out to the market to buy one decent tunic and chausses apiece for Jean and Hamo, since his old clothing would be much too large. When the women returned with those, Mainard sent Jean to Master Leon Basynges, his own banker, with a note asking him to provide the name of the banker whose mark was on Bertrild’s tally sticks. Jean had returned promptly; Bertrild’s banker had been Master Johannes Gerlund.

When Bell, who had arrived at the Old Priory Guesthouse as he had planned, shortly after the second set of clients was safely locked away with their women, got that far in retelling the tale to Magdalene, she uttered an exasperated sigh. “Master Mainard will get little help from that man.”

“Why? Is he dishonest?”

Her lips quirked. “Only insofar as he is one who enters the priory as if for a religious purpose and then sneaks through the back gate to us.” She shrugged. “That might mean he could be dishonest if pressed, but what I was thinking is that Gerlund will never offer an opinion and thus be of no help if Master Mainard needs advice.”

“He would not, you think, have a false set of tally sticks that show the account was paid and closed so he could keep whatever she deposited? That would be a good reason for murder.”

“Yes, but there is the problem of Codi’s knife.”

Bell snorted. “Whyever did the murderer steal the knife? God knows it is being more help to us than it is to him. Even if he had killed Mistress Bertrild with it, as he planned, it must limit the number of people who could be guilty.”

“Yes, but he intended using Codi’s knife to limit the number of suspects to Mainard and Codi. He probably did not know that Mainard would be at Newelyne’s christening party and—”

“Where is Sabina?” Bell interrupted suddenly, looking around.

“She had an engagement to sing and play for a betrothal dinner. She was of two minds about going, wondering if she would be thought improper for going to sing when there was a death in her ‘family,’ but I pointed out that she would be leaving her client with no entertainer if she did not go. I suggested she speak to the client and explain what had happened and leave the decision to him.”

“Well, thank God she is not here because I must tell you that Mainard’s defense of being at Newelyne’s party is very little defense at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“He hides in dark corners, I spoke to a dozen people, all well disposed toward him, and even combined with Newelyne’s testimony his whereabouts cannot be definitely accounted for much after Sext, when he brought Sabina food and drink, until nearly Vespers, when he went to stand near her in readiness to take her home. All the time between, he could easily have left the house, and no one would have noticed he was gone.”

“Do you think him guilty?”

Bell sighed. “The truth is, I do not. If Sabina had been with him, if Bertrild had attacked Sabina—and there is that bruise on Bertrild’s body that could have been made by Sabina’s staff…only Sabina could not have been there; she was in plain sight all but a few minutes when she was taken to the privy—then it is barely possible that his rage would have been so great that he would have drawn his belt knife and struck at Bertrild.”

“But he did not do so only a few days earlier when Bertrild did attack Sabina in her room, above the shop. He only carried that madwoman out, kicking and screaming. And whatever his rage, I cannot imagine Mainard taking Codi’s knife and using it to implicate his poor journeyman.”

“No, nor can I,” Bell said, shrugging. “So let us go back to the five men who could have stolen Codi’s knife.”

“Wait. Before I tell you what I learned, did you see the tally sticks?” Bell shook his head and Magdalene shrugged. She had not really expected he would be able to examine them while making ready to bury Bertrild. “Well, when you do, see if there are any dates indicated, and if there are, see if the deposits begin about a month or six weeks ago.”

“A month or six weeks,” Bell repeated. “You have some reason to believe that was when Bertrild’s demands for money began?”

“Yes. According to Letice, one of her men became worried and uneasy about that time. And another man, Ella’s, suddenly cut the number of his visits from three times a week to one. That looks to me, since he did not ask for a different woman, as if he was being pinched for money.”

Bell nodded. “To me also, which implies that she was demanding a substantial sum.”

“For a substantial reason—at least for two of the men. You knew that before Letice worked here she served in a house that sold more than sex?” Bell nodded again. “Well, she knew two of the men, recognized them as men for whom she had transferred good seals to new documents.”

Bell whistled sharply between his teeth.
“Yes, yes, that is more significant than visits to a brothel. Which men?”

He was not pleased when Magdalene shook her head. “What will you tell them when they deny they have ever done such a thing and ask who accused them? The whoremaster for whom Letice did the work is gone from that house now, and I could not induce the whoremistress who runs the house now to tell me anything.”

“Induce the—” Bell echoed. He was shocked and angry, but habit kept his voice low. “Do you mean to tell me you were down in the stews looking for information? You fool! Those are dangerous people! You could have been set upon—

“Do not you be a fool!” Magdalene snapped. “I
served
in places like that!” Her lips twisted bitterly the next moment at the expression on his face, but her voice did not falter. “I am well aware of how to deal with such people. I offer money or advantage; I do not use threats. And they know who is my patron. We are all in one basket, some at the bottom and some at the top, and unless I become a danger to them, no one will hurt me.”

“And will anyone tell you any more than you would tell them?”

Magdalene smiled more easily. “We deal with different clients and offer different services. No, I would tell them nothing, but for a price, most of them will talk to me. They know I will use what they tell me but not in such a way that it would hurt
them.
As for hurting a buyer of their wares…most would not care; a few would be amused. In fact, Stav was delighted to tell me what I wanted to know.”

Color flooded into Bell’s face, dying his fair skin bright red. “Stav! Have you no sense at all? I am sure he has heard that Diot is with you. Did I not tell you that she kicked him in his privates and absconded with two farthings? He will—”