Roberta Gellis (9 page)

“I do not believe she was killed here,” he said softly, drawing her through the workroom and out through the back door into the yard. “Both Codi and Gisel pointed out the same spot, and I could find no sign of blood there or anywhere else near. But from what Codi said of the body and the knife he showed me—the one they found beside her—she must have been soaked with blood from a huge wound in the throat. She was lying on her back so some blood would have run down her neck. Now, even if most of that was absorbed by her cloak, some should have marked the grass.”

Magdalene had been looking around the yard as Bell spoke. It was neat enough, but there was no garden. Three small sheds lined the west side of a man-high wooden fence; beyond them were two well-pruned apple trees, blossoms gone and young fruit too small to see yet. Then came a sturdy gate, its latch firmly closed and the leather latch-string pulled in from the latchhole and hanging down. Past the gate were two other fruit trees and then a tall hedge which screened all but the slanted roof of what must be the privy. Extending past the hedge and along the east side of the fence was a good patch of bramble showing plenty of white flowers and promising succulent berries in June and July. The center of the yard, instead of being planted with vegetables, was covered with grass and in the middle a rough table with stools around it—a pleasant place, Magdalene thought, for the journeyman and apprentices to eat on a summer afternoon or evening.

“Where?” she asked.

Bell pointed to a spot to the right of the table, and Magdalene could see the grass was somewhat crushed there. But if Bertrild had come to spy on Mainard, that was the wrong place. To see the window clearly, she would have needed to be on the other side of the table, perhaps even farther west behind the trees. And watching from the side of the table where she had been lying, she could not have been seen from Sabina’s window either, although she could have easily been seen from the door of the workroom.

Her eyes scanned the yard again, seeking for a place where Bertrild might have hidden and yet seen Sabina’s window, the place where she might have been killed. It would have been impossible to hide behind the hedge or the brambles; one could see nothing. Magdalene looked left along the fence, glancing at the house now and then to see where a good angle to spy would have been. Her eyes came to the gate, and fixed.

“The latchstring is in,” she said.

“Yes, I noticed,” Bell said. “But it would be no great feat to put a wire or even a twig with a bump on the end through the latchhole and pull the string out. See how the heavy knot in the leather makes the string stand up. Also, the gate is not that well fitted. A man could run a long knife between it and the post and lift the latch that way.”

Magdalene shrugged. “I see it has no lock. Clearly they did not fear thieves, so no one would have rushed out with a knife to drive a thief away.”

Bell nodded. “Your thoughts run with mine. The woman cannot have been mistaken for a thief and stabbed to death by accident. If she was killed here, it was done apurpose. A thief is unlikely anyway. Codi said that the sheds were well locked and hold only scraps of wood or leather. He does not think there is anything worth stealing. Finally, no one would have gone out to drive a thief away because Mainard always said that if anyone needed scraps of wood and leather so desperately, he would not stand in the way of their need.”

“That sounds like Mainard,” Magdalene said.

“An unlikely murderer,” Bell agreed. “And, as I said, I do not believe she was killed here. There is relatively fresh horse dung right outside the gate. Do you know whether Mainard has a horse?”

“I do not believe so. He always walked when he came to see Sabina, but Codi would know that.”

“He says not, but horses are often brought here to try out saddles so a frame can be planned to fit, especially if the animal is unusually large or small or must not be galled, like a destrier. But Codi said no horse was here yesterday because Mainard was away from before noon to after dark.”

“You think the horse was used to bring Bertrild’s body here?”

“Yes. The alley is not paved, so the hooves would not be heard if the beast were kept to a walk. But it would have had to be done after dark by someone who knew the alley well enough not to bump into things—it is not clear of hazards. It would be too chancy, I think, to try to bring a body, even well wrapped, through the Chepe while it was still light.”

“Yes, indeed. And the person would have to know about the gate being only on the latch, not locked, and ill-fitting enough to be opened easily. Most shops lock the back gate to discourage thieves, but—” Magdalene grinned “—I suppose Mainard never did because a saddle is a very awkward thing to steal and presupposes owning a horse. Beside that, the chance of waking saddlery journeymen and apprentices who are all too accustomed to wielding heavy hammers and large knives might also make a thief think twice.”

Bell laughed. “It would make me think twice, and Codi might make me think twice anyway. He is strong as a bear!” The smile changed to a frown. “He is also very uneasy about something—not only that his knife was used as the murder weapon, but something else. See what you can find out about that.” He cast a last glance around the yard and shrugged. “I can do no more here. I will go on to St. Catherine’s.”

“Do you not want something to eat? It is nearly dinnertime and Haesel brought back enough for all.”

He shook his head firmly. “First to St. Catherine’s to see the body if I can. After that I will stop at a cookshop.” He grimaced. “I do not want my meal coming back into my mouth.”

Magdalene raised her brows. He had not shown any such sensitivity over the bodies he had examined the previous month in St. Mary Overy Church.

Bell looked a touch self-conscious. “A woman…. I have heard what she was, but still….” He shrugged, then continued briskly, “When I have spoken to the brothers to learn if there was anything about the body I should know, I will go and talk to Mainard at Lime Street. If you need me, you can send one of the boys. They must know the way well.”

As soon as Bell went out through
the back gate, Magdalene hurried to the area in which she thought Bertrild must have hidden if she came to spy on her husband. Apparently Bell had not thought about Mainard seeing her from the window, rushing down in a rage, and killing her where she was, and Magdalene had no intention of putting the idea into his head. If Bell could prove to the justiciar that Bertrild had been killed elsewhere and that Mainard could not have done it, Magdalene would be quite content—even if it was not true.

Nonetheless, she had not quite made up her mind whether she would destroy or report any evidence that Bertrild had been killed in the yard. What she could find, others could. Thus, she was relieved, after she had examined the ground carefully, to find the grass unstained and undisturbed in the whole area from which one could see into Sabina’s window. Magdalene drew a deep, satisfied breath. Well, then, since Mainard was innocent and Sabina would be happy, it would be a pleasure to find the killer and clear Mainard completely.

With a light step, she reentered the door to the workroom and paused to look about curiously. The chamber was lit by windows in each side wail, and there was a clear walkway from the back door to the door into the shop. To the left of the walkway was a storage area that extended under the steep stairway. In the center of the room, there were three large, sturdy worktables, one just ahead of her near the entrance to the shop, a second to the right of that, and closer to the back wall, to her right beyond the hearth, a third.

On the table near the entrance and the one near the hearth were several cloth-covered forms. Magdalene thought she could make out the shape of the seat of a saddle and beyond it a roll of uncut hide. Some pieces, those on the table closest to the hearth, were covered more carefully with oily looking cloth, and she could not tell what those were. On the last table there were pieces of wood, some mere blocks, others partially carved.

Then Magdalene realized there were no tools at all, no knives, no saws, no hammers
,
no punches, no chisels. Work without tools was impossible. She looked at the walls. A big, two-man saw and several very large mallets hung behind the table near the hearth, but no tools suitable for the work she saw. She stepped briskly into the shop.

“Codi—”

Three gasps interrupted her. Magdalene’s lips thinned. She was accustomed to the reaction when men first saw her face, but she was annoyed with herself for forgetting to raise her veil again. Not that it mattered; she would have had to remove it to eat anyway. Haesel and Sabina had also turned to face her, but they just seemed puzzled. She looked severely at Henry.

“You are too old and too well married for that,” she snapped. Her eyes went to Gisel. “And you—” but she could not help smiling at his blush “—are too young or should be.” Then she laughed. “And Codi, I suspect is too poor. Besides which, I no longer take clients. So let us just put any thoughts of my work away and concentrate on what can be done to save your master from being suspected of murder.”

There were soft, embarrassed murmurs of agreement, and Magdalene continued, “I saw no tools in the workroom. Where is the knife that was found near Bertrild?”

“Locked in my chest,” Codi replied. “All the tools are locked up every night. They are costly and over time become fitted to one’s own hand.” He started to stand up. “Do you wish to see them?”

“No. Bell looked and that is enough, since I would not know one knife from another.”

She waved at him to resume his seat and sighed. More evidence that Bertrild’s death was no accident, not even a killing in a moment of furious passion. If the death had taken place after dark on Saturday night, all the tools would have been locked away already. But then….

“But then,” Magdalene’s voice echoed her thought, “how could anyone have got your knife to use on Bertrild?”

“I lost it on Friday,” Codi said, very low, his eyes staring at a piece of cheese he was holding as if he had no idea what it was doing in his hand.

“You lost it on Friday!” Magdalene echoed. “Sabina, why did you not mention that?”

“She didn’t know,” Codi muttered.
“I hadn’t told anyone. I thought I had mislaid it. I have done so before. Master Mainard…he spoke quite sharply to me the last time it happened. I looked all over….” His voice faded to nothing and then rose. “Even in the yard. I swear I looked all over the yard. In the sheds. Under the table….”

“We looked, too, Gisel and me,” Stoc said suddenly. “We guessed Codi had lost a tool again because he was all upset when he locked up his toolbox on Friday night, and all day Saturday we looked all over the shop and the workroom and the yard. It wasn’t here. Really it wasn’t.”

“That is very interesting. Very.”

Magdalene looked around and Codi got up and brought her a stool from the workroom. She thanked him, drew her eating knife, and sliced off a piece of cheese and bit into it. The ham and bacon were gone, but there was a piece of pasty left and she took that and sliced a trencher out of the bread. When she had settled herself on the stool, she put the bread on her lap and set the cheese and pasty on top. Gisel got a cup from someplace in the workroom and brought it back filled with ale.

“So,” she said when she had swallowed the bite of cheese. “When did you miss the knife, Codi?”

“Not until I put the tools away just after we heard the bells for Vespers. I had used it in the morning to shape the heavy leather for a seat and a broad pommel. After that, I was using the smaller knives for trimming and a punch for holing. I think I had laid it inside the curve that fits over the pommel frame, but I had some trouble with the holing and had to sharpen the punch.”

“Then the knife was lying out on the table and anyone who came into the workroom could have taken it.” She turned her head toward Sabina and Haesel. “Have you ever been in the workroom, Sabina?”

“I do not think so.” Sabina smiled very faintly, then sighed. “I asked Mainard once. I wanted to know as well as I could what he and the others did, but he said it was too dangerous for me with all those knives and hammers.”

“You had better tell Mainard that you maybe blind but you are not a fool or a cripple,” Magdalene said sharply. “You managed well enough in places where people cared less for you than here. If you do not clear his mind of that silliness soon, he will wrap you completely in fleece and hardly let you breathe.”

“I know,” Sabina said, smiling, “but it is hard. It makes him so happy to take care of me.”

Magdalene “tchked” with irritation. “We have no time for that now. Haesel, what about you? Are you often in the workroom?”

“Often enough,” the child said. “When Mistress Sabina does not need me, I go to talk to the boys. But I did not take Codi’s knife. For what would I want a great heavy knife?”

“I do not think you took it, Haesel. I just want you to think back carefully and try to remember whether you were in the workroom on Friday afternoon. You might have seen something, even seen the knife so we would know at what time it was still there.”

“Not Friday afternoon,” Sabina said. “After dinner on Friday, Haesel took me to buy a new veil and ribbons for Master Neely’s christening party and then she helped me choose a gown to wear, clean a few spots from it, and change the laces. She did not go down at all until Mainard came up to share my evening meal.”

“Besides, there were men in the workroom that afternoon,” Haesel said.

“Were there?” Magdalene said with bright interest.

“Yes,” Sabina agreed. “I remember now. I heard their voices and I was a little annoyed because I thought they might take Mainard out with them. I wanted to show him how Haesel and I
had fixed my gown.”

“You feared they would take Mainard out, so you knew the voices?” Magdalene asked eagerly.

“Yes. Some. Master FitzRevery from the mercer’s shop next door. I know his voice. There were two others I knew, too, but I do not know their names. They are all members of one of the Bridge Guilds. You know, Magdalene, they are groups that have formed to raise money and to oversee the labor of building the new bridge.”