[Roger the Chapman 05] - Eve of Saint Hyacinth (10 page)

Philip, despite the fact that he was shaking with fright, gave a crack of laughter. 'A bit careless like, ain't 'e? Must be blind, too, I reck'n.'

A moment later, he was gone. I laid down my burden, crossed the floor in his wake and pushed the door nearly shut, leaving myself only the merest crack of light. I wanted no one else attracted to the warehouse. In any case, my eyes were by now so used to the darkness that I was able to move about more or less at my ease. I returned to Thaddeus Morgan and my probing fingers immediately located the wound which had killed him. The knife had entered just below the heart and the fact that he had not died immediately suggested that the blow had been delivered with less force than intended, leaving him to bleed to death.

I laid his body down again and began to prowl around the room, but there was no sign of any weapon. I acknowledged that it had been too much to hope for, but I did find, high on the ledge of one of the shuttered windows, a stump of candle in a holder and a tinder-box. How long they had lain there I did not know, but as the flint was old and the tinder damp, I suspected it must have been for some time; since, probably, the warehouse was abandoned. However, I finally managed to get the candle lit and by its pale radiance was able to inspect my surroundings more closely.

The first thing I noticed was that the dust on the floor was a great deal more disturbed than could be accounted for simply by the presence of Philip and myself. Indeed, in the middle of the room it was badly scuffed, as though there had been a struggle which, I considered, might well have been the case. Thaddeus Morgan, mortally wounded but not yet dead, must have tried to grapple with his attacker as long as he had the strength to do so. This theory was borne out when I took another took at the corpse and noted a contusion on the dead man's chin where someone had hit him. Knocked unconscious, he had then been dragged back against the wall; and by the flickering light of the candle-flame I could see, here and there, the two lines made by the heels of his boots, now obliterated in places by my own and Philip's footprints.

Further examination of the body showed me blood on the front right-hand corner of Thaddeus's jerkin and the material was creased, as though the blade of a knife or dagger had been wiped clean in its folds. Had I been able to see this earlier, it would have saved me a fruitless search.

Obviously the killer had taken the murder weapon away with him.

The door creaked open behind me. I at once snuffed the candle and reached for my cudgel, which I had earlier dropped on the floor when making my grisly discovery. But almost immediately I recognized the shapes of the two men who stood framed in the doorway against the fading daylight outside.

'Come in, Philip,' I said softly, 'and bring Timothy Plummer with you. Master Plummer, I think the death of Thaddeus Morgan will be of concern to you.' The duke's man trod across the boards to my side. 'I see you came alone. Where are your companions?'

'I've instructed Matthew Wardroper to return with his cousin to Baynard's Castle. Lionel's in no fit state to endure any more tonight. You note,' he added sardonically, 'that I am naming names on the assumption that they are quite likely already known to you. How you come by your knowledge I have no idea, but I certainly intend to find out.' He knelt down and peered through the gloom at the dead man's face. 'Yes. This is indeed Thaddeus Morgan.' He straightened up and turned to me. 'You will accompany me to Baynard's Castle. Now!'

'And if I refuse?'

'Then within a few hours you will be arrested and brought there under guard. But I would much rather that that didn't happen and I'm sure you would prefer it too.' Timothy Plummer jerked his head in Philip's direction. 'Who's this man? And how much does he know?'

'I don' know nothin'!' Philip exclaimed in terror.

'He's telling the truth,' I affirmed, 'He has no knowledge of anything beyond the name of this man, and that I had to disclose in case he was unable to persuade you to come with him. If you let him go he'll not breathe a word to anyone, will you, Philip?'

'May I be struck dead if I do!' was the fervent reply.

Timothy Plummer hesitated, then nodded. 'Very well. I trust you, chapman. If I didn't, I'd have you both clapped in chains. Nevertheless I repeat, you must accompany me to Baynard's Castle.'

'I have to get my pack,' I protested. 'It's at Master Lamprey's shop, where I was to sleep.'

'III have someone fetch it for you in the morning. There's no time to waste. I want to hear now, tonight, what exactly you know and how in sweet Jesu's name you came by your information.' He swung round. 'You! Lamprey, or whatever you're called! Be off now! And forget what's happened here this evening.'

'You c'n trust me, Yer Honour!'

'And Philip,' I added, 'it would be best, I think, to tell Jeanne that I met an old friend and have accepted his hospitality in preference to yours. She'll think badly of me for it, but that can't be helped. It's kinder to her if she knows nothing. And when the messenger comes for my pack tomorrow, Master Plummer here will ensure that he's not wearing the duke's livery. You can make up what story you like to account for him.'

Philip sucked in his breath. 'Aye o.. Well o..' He began to edge towards the warehouse door. 'I'll go now, then.'

And when Timothy Plummer made no effort to stop him, he muttered a quick 'God be with ye' and vanished into the night.

'You're sure he's to be trusted?' Timothy asked uncertainly.

'He's a man who's suffered a great deal of hardship in his life, and who has only recently found security with a good woman and his own shop. He'll not jeopardize either for the sake of a careless word on a subject about which he knows next to nothing. As for violent death, he's seen too much of it to let it bother him. He's lived among beggars and the corpsers who fish the river for dead bodies. Which reminds me, what are we going to do about him?' And I indicated Thaddeus Morgan.

Timothy Plummer shrugged. 'Leave him where he is. Someone'll find him eventually. He won't be connected with you or me. It'll probably never be discovered who he really is, for I doubt he goes by his own name. None of his kind ever does. Now then, if you're ready, we'll get going. It's close to curfew.'

I replaced the candle and tinder-box on the ledge where I had found them and followed Timothy Plummer out of the warehouse, leaving the door wide open. I hoped it might persuade some vagabond to enter and lead to the finding of Thaddeus Morgan's body. Even though, if all my companion had said of him were true, he would most likely be buried in the common grave, it was better than being left to rot or to be gnawed by the rats. I felt he deserved more than that, whatever his calling.

It was growing dark and the curfew bell was tolling as Timothy Plummer and I turned into Thames Street and headed in a westerly direction. The sky still glimmered grey, but there was a smell of tallow in the air as candles were lit. Shops were being closed for the night, goods taken indoors and stowed safely under lock and key. Voices called their valedictions amid much good-natured laughter and chaff. And rising above the roof-tops, down by the river's edge, loomed the great black bulk of Baynard's Castle.

Chapter Seven

The outer courtyard was full of people, the castle being, for the moment, home to two separate households, those of the Dowager Duchess of York and of her youngest son, Prince Richard. With the invasion of France already underway, and with the king and his two brothers making preparations to follow in less than a sennight, it was only natural that to the ordinary, everyday business of bed and board should be added the bustle of military consultation. Security was close, with double the guards on every gate to the number I recalled from my previous visit. Timothy Plummer's face, however, seemed to open each door as if by magic, and in no time at all I was shepherded along a maze of passageways, up numerous flights of narrow, twisting stairs until we reached a room high up in one of the towers, where Lionel Arrowsmith and his young cousin awaited us.

The former was seated in a carved armchair, his injured foot resting on a stool, while the latter, his features pale and drawn, prowled up and down, every muscle taut with anxiety. As I entered with Master Plummer, two pairs of eyes, one hazel, one brown, were turned towards his.

'Well?' the elder demanded brusquely. 'Was it Thaddeus Morgan?'

Timothy nodded and bade me make myself comfortable.

I drew up a stool from a corner of the room while he lit another of the candles which stood in their holders on the table. 'There's no point sitting in the gloom,' he commented.

'Never mind that!' Lionel's voice was laced with panic and he pulled himself forward in his chair with his good left hand. 'How does this pedlar come to know so much that he can quote Thaddeus's name? And where's the other little runt who came to fetch us?'

'Gone home. I have Roger Chapman's word that he'll hold his tongue,' Timothy answered placidly.

'A chapman's word!' Lionel's tone was scathing. 'Have you taken leave of your senses?'

'No. Nor will the duke think so when I tell him. For the truth is that Master Chapman here is well known to His Grace and in the past has done him two great services. My lord would trust him with his life, there's no doubt of that. Which, Roger, is precisely what's at stake.'

I stared at him, frowning. 'You mean ... someone is trying to kill Duke Richard?'

Timothy sighed deeply. 'That's the long and the short of it, I'm afraid.'

'But who?'

Lionel Arrowsmith gave a snort of laughter. 'That's what we were hoping to discover tonight, but someone got to Thaddeus Morgan before us, and as a result we're as much in the dark as ever.'

'Why would anyone want to kill my lord of Gloucester?'
 

'If we knew that,' Timothy answered with asperity, 'we might know where the danger lies. Conversely, if we knew the name of the traitor we might have a motive for the crime.'

'But if you know neither name nor motive,' I demanded reasonably, 'how can you be sure an attempt is planned on His Grace's life?'

Timothy Plummer sat down in the window embrasure, stretching out his legs and leaning his back against the stone. 'That can wait for the moment. First and foremost, you have some questions to answer, chapman.' Lionel Arrowsmith nodded vigorously in agreement. 'How do you come to know as much as you do? What circumstances led you to connect me with Thaddeus Morgan? And how did you come by his name?'

'There's no mystery,' I answered. 'I'm quite willing to tell you.'

When I had finished the broad outline of my story, but omitting those incidents which I felt had no direct bearing upon the matter in hand, there was silence for several seconds.

Then Timothy Plummer stirred. 'A remarkable chain of events. Remarkable. Or, as you say yourself, perhaps the hand of God was here.'

But my other two listeners had different preoccupations.

'You ... you called at home and ... and saw my lady mother?' Matthew Wardroper stammered eagerly. 'How was she?'

'In health,' I answered, but was given no chance to enlarge upon the subject before Lionel Arrowsmith cut in.

His voice was tinged with hysteria.

'You overheard every word that Thaddeus Morgan and I were saying last night? You were concealed behind a bush and we didn't even know you were there? God's toe-nails! Why didn't we think to search the ground before we spoke? Why didn't Thaddeus? Surely a man of his experience must have realized the possible danger that we ran! And if you could eavesdrop, who else might not have done the same? Timothy, I'm sorry! I'm a fool! An idiot! Report me to the duke! Have me whipped for negligence! Never trust me again!'

'Hold hard, Lal,' Timothy begged him. 'It's too late for regrets and I doubt there was more than one long-nosed interloper skulking about the Priory walls at that time of night. No offence, chapman, but you do have the habit of making other people's business your own.'

'None taken,' I replied cheerfully and decided that for the moment I would say nothing of that other shadow I had seen. Master Arrowsmith was plainly in no condition at present to bear up under such a revelation and a twice injured man, I felt, had the right to some consideration. I was longing to ask how he came by his double misfortune, but curbed my tongue, suspecting that all would be revealed in time.

'My mother, Master Chapman.' Matthew Wardroper was once more clamouring for my attention. 'You say she was well?'

'Indeed, yes,' I smiled. 'And it's true what I was told. You are extremely like her in appearance.'

He seemed pleased with this and turned to his cousin. 'I told you, Lal. It's what everybody says.'

Lionel shrugged. 'I wouldn't remember, not having set eyes on Aunt Maud for so long.' He was not to be cheered, still sunk deep in a mire of self-blame. I guessed him to be devoted to the duke. But then, so were most of Prince Richard's followers. He was a man who inspired love and affection in those privileged to know him intimately, although to those who did not, he could seem cold and withdrawn
·

Timothy Plummer rose to his feet. 'Matt,' he said, addressing the younger man, 'it's time you returned to your duties
.
There's nothing further you can do here. You did creditably tonight and I've no doubt His Grace will thank you personally in the morning. Now, off with you. I want a word with your cousin and the chapman.'