[Roger the Chapman 05] - Eve of Saint Hyacinth (12 page)

Timothy raised a hand. 'Softly, softly, Lal! No one is accusing you of anything. But it has needed the chapman here to point out its importance. Neither of us has been thinking very clearly.'

'Understandably enough,' I consoled him. 'You have both been more concerned with the threat to the duke. Sometimes it wants a latecomer to the game to see things which have been previously overlooked.' Each man relaxed a little at these words. I went on, 'Let's forget that problem for a while, however, and consider the events of the past few hours. Master Arrowsmith, you were due to meet Thaddeus at Three Cranes Wharf this evening. Why you were unable to do so is all too painfully apparent. How did you come by this broken ankle?'

Before Lionel could reply Timothy cut in with a laugh, 'The same way he came by his broken arm, by falling downstairs. And the same flight each time. The top step is badly worn and Lal is a follower of fashion. When indoors, and liable to attend upon His Grace, he insists on wearing long-piked shoes. A very stupid and dangerous fashion, as he has now proved twice over.'

'All right! All right!' It was plainly a sore subject with Lionel. 'But who could have expected lightning to strike in the same place more than once? I promise to give up my piked shoes, Tim, if it will make you happier.'
 

It was my turn now to get my own back for having been called simple-minded and innocent earlier on in the conversation. 'Did neither of you ever consider,' I asked, 'that the falls might not have been accidents? That someone deliberately caused Master Arrowsmith to trip in order to try to prevent his meetings with Thaddeus Morgan?'

Chapter Eight

There was silence while I might have counted to twenty, then Lionel Arrowsmith gave a nervous laugh.

Timothy Plummer said trenchantly, 'Nonsense! No one but our two selves knew of the meetings.'

'What about young Matthew?'

'He knew only of the last. When Lal slipped a second time and injured his ankle, then plainly someone else had to be found to take his place. In view of the possible danger I could not risk my own person.' His chest puffed a little with self-importance. 'We picked on young Wardroper because he was a recent arrival and could be excluded from suspicion. He is also Master Arrowsmith's cousin.'
 

I rubbed my chin. 'Are you telling me that the duke himself knows nothing of the threat to his life?'
 

'No, no! Of course he had to be told, to be put on his guard. That goes without saying.'

'Then it also goes without saying that His Grace may have imparted this knowledge to another person, either wittingly or unwittingly. Perhaps to several other persons.'
 

Timothy shook his head gloomily. 'You're out there, chapman. He was angry with me for even mentioning the subject and refuses to take any unnecessary precautions. He dared me, on pain of his greatest displeasure, to discuss the matter with anyone except Lionel here, his most trusted Squire of the Body, who would keep him informed of what was happening and also render me any assistance I might require. The inclusion of Matthew Wardroper in our schemes has already stretched His Grace's tolerance to its limit and what he will say when he discovers that I have now admitted you to our counsels is better left to the imagination. However' - Timothy squared his shoulders manfully 'I shall have to face him with it in the morning.'
 

This time I rubbed my nose. 'You consider it unlikely then that any breach of confidence could have come from the duke. But what about you? You must have underlings.'
 

'They do as they are told and ask no questions. So you see...' Timothy shrugged and spread his hands.

'I see nothing,' I answered shortly. 'This is a household of - what? Some two or three hundred souls? And at present shares this castle with another household of similar magnitude. I do not believe it possible that secrets can be kept perfectly among so many. Backstairs whispering and gossip abound in an enclave such as this. A single glance, one incautious word, would be enough to alert a guilty man to the fact that his purpose was discovered; and his aim must then be to conceal his identity at all costs until he has achieved his object. I therefore think it highly probable that these "accidents" which have befallen Master Arrowsmith were in reality no such thing. Later, I will ask you to show me the flight of stairs where they happened, but for the moment let us return to the events of this evening.'

I am ashamed to confess that I was by now thoroughly enjoying their hangdog looks and my own sense of superiority; but on reflection, I think I may be forgiven my petty triumph. They had treated me like a country bumpkin, unversed in the ways of the world. I could hardly be blamed for taking pleasure in proving them wrong.

'What do you want to know?' Timothy Plummer asked almost humbly. 'I'll answer your questions.'
 

'First, tell me exactly what happened tonight. When Philip Lamprey and I entered the Three Tuns tavern, you and Master Arrowsmith were alone. Matthew Wardroper ioined you a few moments later. He had presumably been sent to keep the tryst with Thaddeus Morgan. When he returned, what did he say?'

'That Thaddeus had not appeared.' It was Lionel who spoke. His cheeks were flushed and the hazel eyes overbright, but whether this was the effect of the wine, fatigue, pain or from some other cause, I had no means of telling. It occurred to me that he had been very quiet for the past ten minutes, but again, there could be a number of reasons for leaving Timothy to do the talking.

The older man nodded. 'That's right. He had found the door of the warehouse open and waited just inside, but no one came.'

'How long did he wait?'

The two men glanced at one another.

'Maybe a quarter of an hour,' Timothy said at last and Lionel murmured in confirmation.

'Did he mention hearing anything during that time? A groan, perhaps, or someone stirring?'

'If he had, he would have told us and we should have gone to investigate.' It was Timothy Plummer's turn to score.

'So you sent him back again with instructions to keep a longer vigil. At least half an hour by my reckoning. But did the lad not think to look around him? To explore the warehouse?'

Lionel sighed. 'I suspect he was too frightened. Oh, he was anxious enough to help, proud that we had put our trust in him, but at bottom he's just a raw, green lad with no experience of danger. And we had perhaps overemphasized the need for caution.'

'With good reason, as it turned out,' Timothy objected grimly. 'If your cousin had chanced upon the murderer, he, too, might now be lying stabbed through the heart.'
 

'Which brings us to the question of when the murder actually took place,' I said, refusing to let them stray into realms of the might-have-been. 'Before young Matt's arrival? During his return to the Three Tuns? Or after his final departure? It depends, of course, when Thaddeus finally kept the tryst, but that is something it is impossible for us to know for certain. Whoever killed him left him, either unaware that he still breathed, or content to let him bleed to death.'

Yet, even as I spoke, something worried me about that conclusion, but I was unable to decide just what. I yawned prodigiously and stretched my arms above my head. I had had a disturbed night and a long, eventful day. My mind felt as leaden as my body and suddenly all I wanted to do was sleep.

Timothy rose from his stool and laid a hand on my arm.

'Come along, my lad, you can share my bed for tonight. Then, in the morning, when I've made my confession to the duke and, God willing, he's given his permission for your involvement, we can resume this conversation. Lal, time also that you retired. I don't need to ask if you've taken all precautions to safeguard His Grace's rest.'

Lionel grunted wearily. 'I'll come with you to the duke in the morning,' he said, 'and confess my stupidity over that last meeting with Thaddeus. He'll be angry, but not more so than I am with myself. Than I deserve. Assist me out of this chair, Tim, and shout for one of the pages to help me to the dormitory.' And, this done, he bade us both a brief good-night.

Timothy Plummer turned again to me and refilled my beaker. 'One final draught, chapman. You'll sleep the better for it and you'll need all your wits about you tomorrow. '

Timothy Plummer jerked his head towards the door and said, 'You can enter now, chapman. His Grace will see you in a moment.'

He pulled down the corners of his mouth as he spoke, indicating that his own interview with Duke Richard, some half an hour before, had not been an easy one.

Lionel Arrowsmith, it seemed, had decided to make his confession even earlier and had now been dismissed once again to his bed in order to rest his ankle until it should be mended, so I had no means of knowing how he had fared.

I had to stoop to enter the little antechamber. Through the half-open door I could see the duke, seated at a table, dictating letters to his chief clerk, and also attended by his secretary, John Kendall. I sat down on a bench running the length of one wall and occupied my eyes with staring at the tapestries illustrating the story of Dido and Aeneas, but keeping my ears pricked for anything Duke Richard might let drop in the course of his dictation. Any morsel of information would have been welcome at that juncture.

To my astonishment, however, His Grace, in the midst of all his preparations for the invasion of France and the undoubted additional aggravation caused by this threat to his life, seemed to be equally concerned with the affairs of his Yorkshire tenants. He was sending a strongly worded letter to the Bishop of Durham regarding illegal fishgarths in the waters of the Ouse and the Humber which, the duke claimed, were not only impeding the navigation of these two rivers, but also diminishing the number of fish able to be caught by rod and line.

'The bishop knows very well,' the duke remarked in an acid aside to John Kendall, 'that Parliament has strengthened the magistrates' hands in this matter, yet still his bailiffs persist in flouting the law, trusting in the fact that people will be afraid to oppose him.' The royal jawline tightened. 'Well, now His Grace will discover that he has me to contend with.'

I knew a fleeting compassion for the errant cleric who was to be the recipient of so much unbending displeasure and hoped that I would fare better at Duke Richard's hands. So, when the clerk and John Kendall were finally dismissed, I approached the table where he was sitting with what I trusted was a suitably ingratiating expression.

To my great relief the duke regarded me with a glimmering smile.

'There's no need to look so hangdog, chapman,' he said. 'I'm not about to order your arrest.' The smile deepened. 'Sit down.' And he indicated the stool vacated by his clerk. 'So,' he went on, resting his chin on his clasped hands, 'here you are again, mixed up in my affairs.'

'An it please your lordship.'

'Oh, it does please me, Roger, it does, the reason being that you are one of just a handful of people I can really trust. Twice in the past you have proved yourself to be an honest and devoted servant, with no thought of gain or personal self-advancement. Don't look so uncomfortable. I'm only stating the truth. I would to God that there were more like you.'

He sounded bitter, and for the first time since entering the room I looked closely at him. He was my own age exactly, still some four months short of his twenty-third birthday. But during the two years since our last meeting he had aged faster than I had. There were fine lines around the eyes and mouth which I could not recall seeing before and the thin lips were more compressed, emphasizing the heaviness of jaw and chin. I noticed, too, the nervous way in which he twisted the rings which adorned his fingers, or fiddled with the jewelled chain slung about his shoulders.

The long, slender fingers with their beautiful, almondshaped nails were never quiet, reflecting, or so I suspected, an inner perturbation of the mind.

My heart went out to him, for I guessed that in spite of his supreme happiness with his wife and little son, maintaining the peace between his brothers must be a perpetual source of misery to him. Common gossip held him to be equally fond of both the king and George of Clarence, but with the latter constantly hell-bent on stirring up trouble, it could be no easy task to keep them friends.

'And how has the world turned with you,' he went on, 'since our last meeting?'

I told him as briefly as I could, not wishing to burden him, amongst all his weightier affairs, with my paltry concerns. But he listened intently and questioned me more closely when I would have skimped the narrative. The brown eyes lit with pleasure and tenderness when I mentioned my baby daughter and I knew he must be thinking of his own love-child, the Lady Katherine Plantagenet.

'Girls are a great joy,' he said softly. 'They wheedle, they cajole, they throw tantrums, but they have a deep and abiding loyalty towards those to whom they give their hearts. Guard your little Elizabeth well, Roger. Cherish her as you would your most prized possession.' He was silent a moment longer, staring unseeingly before him, then he sighed and addressed himself to the matter in hand.

'Timothy Plummet informs me that you have stumbled by chance upon our secret and that, in view of your past success at solving mysteries, he has sought my permission to recruit you. Before I give it, however, what are your wishes? You have already risked your life twice in my service. I will not imperil it a third time unless I have your consent. '