Outside, a little boy stood shaking with horror while a young woman tried to comfort him, cradling him in her arms.
‘My master, my master . . .’ he kept repeating.
‘It’s all right,’ she said, while at her side a foolish looking boy stared at the door, shaking his head and weeping.
Simon and Baldwin followed the boy’s terrified gaze and walked straight in through Karvinel’s door. Nothing in the hall, nothing in the solar downstairs, but from the base of the ladder they could smell the vomit and excrement. Simon curled his lip at the odour and pointedly held the ladder for Baldwin to climb. He was soon back, his face grim and forbidding ‘We must fetch the Coroner.’
‘I’m here,’ Coroner Roger said from the doorway. He clambered up the ladder and while Simon waited below, the two men took in the scene.
‘There’s no need to guess how they died,’ Coroner Roger said.
‘No,’ Baldwin agreed. ‘Both in agony, both contorted, both vomiting and emptying their bowels.’
‘Quite. So both were poisoned, although it looks like Nick beat his wife before they died,’ Roger said thickly. ‘Who did this? And how?’
‘I cannot help but feel guilty for this,’ Baldwin said heavily. ‘I should have guessed what was likely to happen as soon as I had spoken to Jolinde. I should have guessed . . . Especially with what my wife told me last night. I should have guessed.’
Coroner Roger eyed him for a moment without speaking. ‘You think you know who killed these two?’
Baldwin shook his head regretfully. ‘Coroner, I know who murdered Ralph, who murdered Peter, who attempted to poison Adam, and who killed these two as well. I only wish I had been more wise last night. Come. I shall take you to the murderer.’
He turned to the ladder and slowly descended, his heart full of despondency. Like a tapestry, Baldwin knew that an enquiry into a murder would throw up coloured threads which, if arranged correctly, would create a picture that was instantly recognisable. So many of the loose cords had been in his hands the previous night, yet he had not managed to complete the picture until that last comment from the baker’s girl. If only he had not been so tired the night before, these two people might not have died.
Walking with the pensive gait of a doomed man, he left the house of death and went into the road. The young woman was still holding the boy, while near her the idiot boy had covered his face with his hands. Behind them a man leaned against a wall, his face shadowed under an overhang. A small gathering of neighbours stood near to hand, murmuring resentfully among themselves.
‘Where’s the Constable?’ Coroner Roger bellowed. A man shuffled forward apologetically. ‘Guard this door and don’t let anyone in until I return. The Karvinels have been murdered.’
The Constable gaped while the neighbours shook their heads. They would all have to pay a fine for breaking the King’s Peace. Baldwin led the way towards the High Street.
‘I was confused by the number of deaths,’ he told the others. ‘It is so rare that you find a series of killings like this. If I had thought about it, perhaps I would have come upon the truth earlier, but I didn’t. I allowed myself to be half-persuaded that the glovemaker’s death was a mere robbery, a chance theft during which the poor householder died. It is rare to find the murderer in such a case.’
‘True. The randomness of the crime makes it all but insoluble,’ Coroner Roger agreed.
‘Quite so. To be able to discover a murder one needs a reason for a man to kill. One must have a logical, comprehensible motive. So often it is based upon obvious factors.’ He paused, stopping at the side of the street while a cart rumbled past. Continuing on his way, he sighed. ‘Yet in this case we learned that there were several possibilities: the theft of Ralph’s money, the removal of a possible competitor in the race to power in the city, the theft of his stock, possibly the concealment of another crime. And then I was confused by the murder of Peter.’
‘We all were,’ Coroner Roger aid. ‘There was no sense to his death.’
‘No. And that was the point,’ Baldwin said.
The Coroner threw a look at Simon, who smiled at his confused expression and shrugged expansively.
Baldwin continued, ‘Just as it was for the Secondary Adam. Why should another Secondary die? Why should any of them? And then I hit upon the idea that another person was the target for the poison which killed Peter. Now, if someone else had helped, wittingly or unwittingly, to give the poison to Peter, then that person could also be a threat to the poisoner. And so Adam was. He had two jobs in the Cathedral: he made and replenished candles, but he also helped deliver bread in the morning. I think he knows who delivered the bread to Peter.’
‘I begin to understand,’ breathed Coroner Roger.
‘Adam was a specific victim in his own right. A murderer would hardly leave evidence about so clearly without good reason.’
‘Ahm . . .’ Coroner Roger gave Simon a helpless look.
The Bailiff was not sure either where his friend was leading them. ‘Do you mean that whoever poisoned Adam wanted to leave proof so that someone in that room would be blamed with Adam’s poisoning?’
‘Yes. They probably didn’t care who was blamed so long as someone was.’
The Coroner frowned. ‘How would a killer know which was Adam’s loaf?’
‘Adam and the others in Stephen’s household sit in order of precedence. It would have been easy. And then the bottle of orpiment was left in the room so that anyone could have taken the blame.’
‘And where would the killer have found the bottle?’ the Coroner asked.
‘Ah, the poison would have been bought from an alchemist. The bottle left in Stephen’s room was yellow arsenic, but I doubt that was what poisoned Adam. Yellow arsenic is bright and obvious and anyone would have seen it on – or in – a loaf of bread. Any thief could have walked into the Choristers’ hall during the mid-day service to take the little bottle. All the members of the choir would be in the church, so it would be perfectly safe. And I believe that arsenic must be treated to make it especially poisonous. The killer still has the genuine bottle of poison, I expect.’
‘So you don’t think that Peter was killed because of his clerking for Karvinel?’ Simon asked.
‘No. I think that Jolinde was supposed to have died. And then Adam was supposed to die because he knew the killer.’
‘What of the Karvinels?’ Simon asked.
‘Who would benefit from Karvinel’s death?’ Baldwin asked.
‘Vincent le Berwe!’ the Coroner replied.
‘Exactly. Just as Vincent would lose his key enemy by the death of Ralph.’
‘There are some others,’ Coroner Roger observed.
Baldwin gave a fleeting smile. ‘Very well. But Karvinel and le Berwe were the two leading contenders in the city, I think you will agree?’
‘Oh, certainly, but there will always be contenders in any city. That doesn’t mean that one or other will murder his opponent.’
‘No, of course not,’ Baldwin agreed.
He had clasped his hands behind his back and Simon could see that he was deeply moved or concerned, although Simon was not sure why. The Bailiff was about to clear his throat and break in upon Baldwin’s thoughts when another interruption caused all three to halt.
Jen of Whyteslegh was petrified. She was convinced that she would soon be dead of terror. These three men were among the most powerful and important she had ever seen, let alone spoken to. Such folk hadn’t come near her village when she was at home with her parents. There was a worm of fear squirming in her belly as she hastened her steps towards the rearmost man and tugged at his tunic.
Instantly Simon whirled to face her. The sudden action made her stop and put a hand to her mouth as she saw him reach for his sword, but when he saw it was a young woman, Simon stayed his hand and smiled reassuringly.
‘You were comforting the child outside the house, weren’t you?’ he said. His head still ached appallingly, but he fel
t guilty at scaring the girl and he was determined to put her at her ease.
‘Yes, sir,’ she squeaked.
‘Did you want to speak to me?’
‘Sir, I have been told to ask, would you speak for an approver if he can deliver you a murderer?’
Baldwin and the Coroner had stopped a short distance further up the road and they watched Simon as he tried to make sense of her words. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I have a friend, sir. He has been involved in crimes, but he wants to ask for a pardon. Would you speak for him if he will give you evidence to convict another felon?’
Simon glanced back the way they had come. This early in the morning Exeter’s High Street was a bustling mess of humanity, with buskers and hawkers calling out their wares, girls threading their way through the crowd, boys darting hither and thither to offer their services to hold a horse’s reins for a period. Somewhere in the seething mass, Simon felt sure that he could feel a man’s close inspection. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘If your friend can help us to stop these murders, I’ll speak for him. Let me speak to the Coroner.’
He beckoned and Baldwin and Coroner Roger rejoined him. Roger was unconvinced. ‘Why should I allow him to surrender?’ he demanded of Jen.
‘He has been blamed for crimes he didn’t commit – he wants to stop running and hiding all his life. Please, sir, please. Let him give himself up.’
The big man puffed out his cheeks. ‘Very well, but if the fellow he accuses demands trial by combat, I can’t do anything to protect him.’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to, Coroner,’ said Sir Thomas from behind him. ‘But Vincent le Berwe paid me to destroy Nicholas Karvinel. That makes him a felon. I think he murdered Karvinel and his wife, Juliana, too.’
‘I am afraid I think that there you are wrong,’ Baldwin interrupted, ‘but I wish to arrest the murderer. Coroner, may we continue?’
‘By all means.’
‘Are you going to Vincent le Berwe’s house?’ Sir Thomas asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Good. In that case I can tell you of all his crimes on the way there. Come – I do not want him to escape. He killed Karvinel and he has stolen my revenge from me. I wanted Karvinel to die for my friend, but now he is already murdered!’
Chapter Thirty
Vincent le Berwe was in his hall when the furious hammering came on his door. He looked up bemused as one of his servants shouted through the panel to demand who was visiting so early. Hearing the bellowed reply, Vincent shot to his feet and called for his bottler, while ordering that the door should be opened forthwith.
‘Coroner, and Sir Baldwin. Bailiff Puttock! It is a pleasure,’ he said, and then there was a freezing knot in his throat as he recognised the last man.
‘Good day, Vincent,’ Sir Thomas said, walking inside and gazing about him with interest. ‘Receivers do well for themselves, don’t they?’
‘Are you alone here?’ Baldwin asked.
‘My wife is at the Cathedral, Sir Baldwin. Why?’
‘Because we are here to learn why Karvinel and his wife were murdered,’ Coroner Roger grated. ‘And we don’t want to upset your wife unduly.’
Baldwin smiled. ‘Vincent, please be seated. This will take us some little while.’
‘Seated? Why? And who is that man? What’s he doing here?’
In answer, Sir Thomas pointed at him. ‘Coroner, before God, I swear that I know this man. He is Vincent le Berwe, Receiver of the city of Exeter. I met him many years ago when we were both young, he a student, me a youth practising at the warrior’s arts. Recently I fell in with felons, and this man Vincent le Berwe persuaded me to help him. He wanted me to ruin his enemy Nicholas Karvinel. To that end he paid me to break into Karvinel’s house and steal all I could. Later he paid me to repeat the break-in and fire the place.’
‘Thomas! What are you doing? Are you mad?’ Vincent demanded, astonished.
‘Sir Thomas, did you harm Karvinel and his wife last night?’ Coroner Roger intoned solemnly.
It was Baldwin who answered. ‘Oh no. Sir Thomas had nothing to do with that, did you?’
The outlaw wiped a hand over his brow. ‘No, although I should have. I wanted the bastard to pay for the way he had my man killed. No, I would never use poison. It’s a coward’s weapon.’
‘Who?’ demanded Coroner Roger. ‘Which man did he have killed?’
‘Hamond, the man you had arrested and hanged. He was with me all that day until he went to the tavern for a drink. Neither of us robbed Karvinel.’
Coroner Roger sneered. ‘Then who did?’
‘No one,’ Baldwin answered.
‘What?’ All the men turned to him, the Coroner dumbstruck for the first time since Baldwin had met him.
He smiled. ‘That is right. I think when we look through Karvinel’s house, we shall find his own money there intact, and we’ll probably find the money supposed to be stolen from the Cathedral as well.’
‘Why would a man stage a robbery?’
‘I think I just gave you the answer: the Cathedral’s money. It was a significant sum, far too great a temptation to a man whose own fortunes were so weak. He pretended to have been robbed, then hurried back to the city. There he sought his clerk and told him, I guess, that he had been robbed. Peter was horrified. He agreed to back up Karvinel, even to the extent of identifying a certain felon whom, so they alleged, had been partly responsible for the theft of the money. That was enough to secure the death of Hamond.’
‘What has all this to do with me?’ Vincent demanded.
‘Your responsibility lies with the death of Ralph the Glover,’ Baldwin informed him. ‘But not directly because you yourself didn’t kill him. Just as you didn’t kill Peter or the Karvinels.’
‘Who did?’ Coroner Roger asked impatiently.
‘Consider Ralph first. It could hardly have been any of the Cathedral staff who killed him. They were all in the Cathedral at the time. After Ralph left the dawn Mass, they would all have been attending Chapter. What is more, the knife was a slender one, with a blade of only half an inch in width at the base. That is a very small blade. And the attacker struck many times, in a berserk manner, which is significant.’
‘Of what?’ the Coroner demanded, baffled. ‘And why kill him? Ralph was a lovely fellow, always kind and honest.’
‘He told the City Bailiff that he thought he had learned of a robbery,’ Baldwin said. ‘He had discovered that Vincent here was stealing from the Cathedral.’
‘I wouldn’t do a thing like that!’ The merchant’s cheeks went purple.
‘Adam has confessed.’
‘The feeble-minded cretin! He hasn’t the—’ Then le Berwe stopped and shrugged, defeated. ‘Well? What of it? I was only doing what any other man would do. It didn’t cost the Cathedral much, and I needed the money. My ship sank, you know. I’ve got next to nothing.’
‘So you killed Ralph?’ the Coroner said disbelievingly.
Baldwin shook his head. ‘Think of the poisonings. What sort of person uses poison? And who was the target? Peter? Or was it someone else: the man living with him – Vincent’s illegitimate son, Jolinde.’
Simon nodded. They had agreed this before – but what sort of man was le Berwe, to have tried to kill his own son?
‘No. This is all rubbish. No, you’re wrong,’ Vincent said, shaking his head in denial. He half-lifted a hand as if to protest further, but let it fall into his lap.
Baldwin ignored him. ‘That must have been difficult for you, Vincent, knowing that your wife had tried to kill your own son. Why? Well, probably because Hawisia is herself pregnant. She would hardly want a competitor to her own child’s inheritance, would she? But her plan failed. She poisoned the wrong man. For all her planning, she killed poor Peter by accident. And Jolinde, being a pleasant, easygoing sort of fellow, never even guessed that he was the target of the poison.’
The Coroner gaped at Baldwin, dumbfounded. ‘A woman did all this?’
‘Th
at’s preposterous!’ Sir Thomas exclaimed. ‘Hawisia is too highly bred to do such a thing. Perhaps a slattern from a tavern would be capable of it, but a woman like Hawisia?’
Only Simon grunted in agreement as he saw how all fell into place. ‘What about the Karvinels? Why should she try to murder them?’
‘No, this is mad,’ Coroner Roger said, but his tone was unconvinced.
Baldwin continued quietly, assured and certain of his facts. ‘Presumably Nicholas knew something. We know that expensive leathers are missing from Ralph’s shop. Perhaps Karvinel saw the thief taking them.’
Vincent covered his face with his hands. There were no tears; he was like a man who has found peace at last after a long and terrifying struggle, but his voice was broken, almost sobbing. ‘You’re right. Karvinel heard that I was seen in the street that morning. I didn’t realise what it meant at first.’
‘You were in the Guildhall, weren’t you?’ Simon confirmed.
‘Yes. But Peter, rot him, told Karvinel I had been there, since he had seen my cart, but it wasn’t me, it was my wife. Hawisia came to the Guildhall to see me with one of my carts, saying she thought I wanted it for goods, but I didn’t. I told a servant to take it home rather than see her struggle with it.’
Coroner Roger gazed from him to Sir Baldwin. ‘I don’t understand.’
Baldwin continued. ‘Hawisia had wanted to help her husband by removing a threat to him. She thought Ralph was more dangerous than Karvinel and planned his murder to the last detail. She went to his house and knocked, having already ensured that his apprentice would be away. She persuaded Ralph to open his shop for her, and when he had done so, she murdered him, striking him madly, like a berserker. But I think she carried on quite calmly with her plan after that unpleasantness. She was perfectly collected; she took his keys, locked the shop and went to the house, locking that door after her. That was why Elias couldn’t get in. She went upstairs and got the money from the strongbox. It was then that Elias arrived. He banged on the door without answer, then went round to the back. While he did so Hawisia unlocked the front door, crept out and unlocked the shop.’
The Boy-Bishop's Glovemaker Page 32
