Sharon Penman - The Queen Man

"We'll find him," Justin said, hoping he sounded more certain than he felt, for he'd begun to wonder if the Fleming's ungodly luck would ever run out.

"We'd better… and soon, give I start to ask myself what I'm doing here, sleeping on your floor instead of snug in Aldith's bed. And speaking of beds, think you that we can borrow some extra blankets from the hellcat? That pallet was harder than a landlord's heart."

They soon reached the hitching post where they'd tethered Copper and Luke's temperamental sorrel. "I cannot believe I got the day wrong," Luke said glumly. "Now we'll have to come back at week's end. They hold races there, too, on Fridays, and that might lure Sampson out, for he has a fondness for gambling. I hear tell he is not very good at it, but he is always keen for making a wager."

That sounded like a promising lead to Justin. "We need not wait for the Friday races then. If we can find out from Jonas where the high-stakes dicing games are played, we could keep watch for Sampson."

Luke at once swung up into the saddle. "I ought to have thought of this sooner. Most men have a weakness of some sort, be it for drink or whores or high living."

Justin mounted, too. "A pity the Fleming only lusts after dead bodies and not whores. I'd much rather track him through bawdyhouses than cemeteries."

"Christ on the Cross!" Luke reined in his stallion so hastily that the horse reared up. "How could I have forgotten about the woman?"

Justin's hopes kindled. "Which woman?"

By the time Luke had gotten his horse under control again, he had reined in his excitement, as well. "I do not want to make more of this than I ought," he said cautiously. "It is only a comment Kenrick made last summer, when we were hunting the Fleming for the murders of that merchant and his wife. He told me he was sure Gilbert had gone back to London, back to his 'Irish whore.' He said his cousin had been boasting about how hot she was in bed. When I wrote to the London sheriffs about Gilbert, I passed on what Kenrick had said, but he could not remember the woman's name, so they must not have thought it worth pursuing."

"Why do you think Kenrick called her that? Because he had contempt for any woman who'd take up with the likes of Gilbert? Or could she really be a whore?"

Luke did not answer immediately, considering. "I know of at least one whore he was bedding back in Winchester. Rumor had it that she'd send him word when she got a customer worth robbing."

"Well, that gives us a place to start — the Southwark stews. Let's go find Jonas again."

"A hunt for an unnamed whore who may or may not know the Fleming?" Luke was grinning. "Who could resist a mad quest like that?"

~~

Jonas was not very enthusiastic about their conjecture. Justin doubted, though, if the serjeant was ever enthusiastic about much of anything. But he did agree to try to find out if there was a whore in the Southwark stews who happened to be Irish. Justin and Luke spent the rest of the day checking out alehouses and taverns that were known to be frequented by gamblers, to no avail. There was no sign of Sampson.

It was evening when they got back. As soon as they entered the alehouse, Justin was hailed from several corners of the common room, and he paused to exchange greetings with Odo the barber, young Ellis, and Roland the Wainwright, who'd been the first to join in Gunter's hue and cry against the Fleming. By then, Luke had already claimed a table for them and ordered a flagon of ale. "You seem to be settling right in."

"I suppose I am," Justin agreed, realizing in surprise how comfortable he did feel here on Gracechurch Street. "They are right curious about you, of course, wanting to know if it is true that you are a sheriff of some sort. I said you were, but not to hold it against you."

Luke shoved the flagon across the table. "Help yourself, for you're paying for it. I told the hellcat to put it on your account."

Justin poured himself a drink. "When we talked earlier about the Fitz Randolphs, you said they were faring poorly, stalked by rumors and gossip. You would not have spread those rumors, by any chance?"

"Sometimes it helps to sow some suspicion about. But in this case, the rumors were already springing up. Their neighbors are looking askance at the family, and there is a lot of talk in the alehouses, much of it unkind. Have you ever noticed how eager people are to believe the worst? But because of all the gossip and speculation, the abbot of Hyde Abbey has told Thomas Fitz Randolph that it would be for the best if he did not seek admission to their order just yet. I believe he used such soothing phrases as 'in God's good time' and 'once the dust has begun to settle.' But we both know — and so does Thomas — that he really meant, 'Come back once we're sure you're not a murderer.'"

"I daresay Thomas took that with his usual grace and goodwill."

Luke grimaced. "He accosted me at high noon in the Cheapside, accusing me of ruining his life and putting his immortal soul at peril. I lost my temper, too, and threatened to shove him into a horse trough if he did not go home. If he ever does end up as a Benedictine brother, God help his brethren!"

"What of the others? No wedding plans announced yet for Jonet and Miles?"

"I think they are still seeking to win the mother over. They'd have to wait anyway, for the same reason that Aldith and I do, since no marriages can be performed during Lent. But when I stopped by the Fitz Randolph house ere I left for London, Miles was there, breaking bread with the rest of the family, so I expect that he and Jonet will have their way in the end. Assuming, of course, that they are not implicated in her father's murder. I doubt that they are guilty, though. I'd put my money on our lovable little monk if I had to choose between them."

"At least we were able to eliminate Guy as a suspect. But it sounds as if the goldsmithy will be in for some rough times. Gervase was the wind behind those sails. And if we cannot solve the murder, it might well go under." Until now, Justin had thought only of providing answers for Eleanor. But Ella needed them, too, mayhap even more than the queen did. Suspicions could blot out the sun for all the Fitz Randolphs, the guilty and

innocent alike.

"I do not truly think it was Thomas, either," Luke said suddenly. "I suspect the man was slain for reasons I can only guess at. His groom told me that he was on an urgent mission to London, and that might well explain the inexplicable interest of the Queen of England in this killing. How much do you know, de Quincy? More than I do, for certes. Do you not think it is about time you shared some of that knowledge with me?"

Justin stiffened. "What do you mean?"

Luke set his cup down with a thud. "You're the queen's man, I've not forgotten. But we are on the same side in this fight. I think I've earned the right to ask some questions."

Justin thought so, too. But was Luke asking for himself? Or for John? "What do you want to know?"

"Was the goldsmith carrying a letter for the queen?"

Justin had not expected such a bold challenge. "Why would you think that?"

Luke scowled. "The goldsmith had just delivered a chalice to the Archbishop of Rouen, who also happens to be the king's justiciar and a known ally of the queen. He arrived home on Epiphany Eve, and then set out the very next morning for London, in a snowstorm. It does not take a mastermind to wonder if there is a connection between those two facts, de Quincy."

It sounded plausible. Luke was certainly clever enough to draw such conclusions on his own. But were they his own conclusions? "I have no answers for you, Luke. I am sorry."

Luke's eyes darkened. "So am I," he said tersely.

Justin swallowed the last of his ale, silently damning the queen's son to the deepest recesses of Hell Everlasting. At that moment, there was a stir at the door. Gunter found himself greeted heartily by virtually every man in the alehouse, for his courageous rescue had turned him into a neighborhood hero, at least for a fortnight or so. Looking both bemused and shyly pleased by all the attention, he mumbled greetings in turn, and then headed across the room when Justin beckoned.