Michael Jecks - The King of Thieves

A while later, Baldwin and Simon stood in the courtyard and watched the people hurrying back and forth.

‘What do you make of it, Baldwin?’ Simon asked.

‘I think that whoever wished to make the Bishop appear guilty did a very good job of work. There can be few in the castle now who haven’t heard about Bishop Walter’s verbal attack on the Procureur. And yet that day there were only a few men about here. Someone chose to spread the story, and when the next morning there was news of the Procureur’s death, people put the two tales together. But that was the result of gossip, perhaps. Not all rumours are started maliciously.’

‘How can we begin to learn what truly happened, do you think?’

Baldwin looked up at the sun. ‘I think the first thing we should do is speak to this man who has been tortured.’

‘We would need permission for that.’

‘Yes,’ Baldwin said. He strolled over to the main gate. In the doorway was Arnaud with two of his men. ‘Master Porter? May I speak with you a moment?’

‘If you wish.’

‘You know the man Pons who has been investigating the death of the Procureur?’

‘Yes, indeed.’

‘Has he left the castle yet?’

‘No, he is still in the hall, I think.’

‘When he comes, would you ask him most politely whether he would accept a pint of wine with me? I shall be in the tavern over there,’ Baldwin said, pointing.

The coin passed to Arnaud was enough to guarantee his compliance, and Simon and Baldwin enjoyed a pint of wine between them before Pons appeared in the courtyard, walking swiftly to the gate. There he was approached by Arnaud, and turned to glance in their direction before nodding and striding to join them.

‘Well, my friends, it is not every day that I am offered a good drop of the King’s finest wine, so I’d be delighted to drink some with you both.’

‘That is good,’ Baldwin said. He poured a cup full. ‘And then we shall exact payment.’

‘Aha! I had thought as much,’ Pons said. ‘What is it?’

‘Only this: we should like to meet your informant to see what else he may tell us about the Bishop and the death of the Procureur.’

‘I do not object — but what do you want from him? To ask him to change his tale?’

‘No, only to confirm his story. We are convinced that our Bishop is not guilty of killing the Procureur.’

‘Perhaps he did not wield the knife, but he paid the man who could.’

‘The Bishop is a new man to this city, m’Sieur. He does not know it well. Was this villain so famous that a foreigner could find him this swiftly?’

Pons hesitated. ‘Perhaps he has visited the country before?’

‘He has, I am sure, but not for many years. He knew that he was not popular, because he is no ally to Queen Isabella. Many friends of your Royal Family despise him.’

‘He may, perhaps, have come to know of the killers a while ago, then?’

‘He is more likely to be the victim of your city’s killers than a sponsor of them,’ Baldwin said with certainty.

Pons considered, nodding slowly. ‘Perhaps.’

‘Is there anyone else who has been involved with this fellow?’

‘The “King of Thieves”, as he calls himself, has been associated with almost all those who’ve been involved in any crimes for the last few years.’

‘But recently, is there anyone who has knowledge of him?’

Pons shrugged. ‘Our helper was a woman. A whore who’s lost interest in him as he grew more violent, I think. She took us to him so that we could catch him.’

‘And she came to find you?’

‘Through another man here in the Louvre. He told us and set a meeting with her.’

‘Another of her clients, then?’

‘It is possible.’

‘May we speak with this “King”?’

‘Very well. Perhaps tomorrow you could join me in a visit to the gaol where he is being held? It is the old Templar preceptory north of the city.’

Baldwin’s face froze. ‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘That would be most kind of you.’

‘Are you all right, Baldwin?’ Simon asked as they made to leave the tavern.

‘Yes. It was merely a shock to hear that they are still using that fortress as a centre for torture,’ he said.

‘Ho! Thought I’d find ye both here. Fancy a little nibble?’ Sir Richard said, somewhat indistinctly as they passed the entrance. The knight was sitting outside on a bench, a roasted capon on a platter before him, which he was gradually dismembering, one leg already in his mouth.

‘What are you doing here? I thought you were guarding the Bishop,’ Simon said.

‘Well, I was, but the Queen’s man came and fetched him. Lord Cromwell was there, and if I know Lord John, he’ll not see any harm come to the fellow while the Bishop’s in his charge.’

‘What did the Queen want with him?’ Baldwin asked.

‘To talk about money and the like, I think. Poor Walter groaned and sighed to himself when he heard the summons, but when all’s said and done, she is the Queen, and he is her legal guardian while she’s here, so he had little enough choice. Now, how about some capon? The man here cooks damn well — are you a thigh man or a breast man, ha ha, eh?’

Although he had little desire for food, at least Sir Richard’s company was a distraction from the concerns which assailed him at present, Baldwin decided. He sat down and stabbed a lump of breast with his small eating knife.

Sir Richard smiled broadly. ‘Excellent! I always knew you’d prefer a good sizeable breast! So, Sir Baldwin,’ he continued, finishing a leg and throwing the bones towards a cat who sat, purring loudly, on a wall nearby. ‘What d’you reckon to this story of the Bishop? As much moonshine as saying the castle’s mastiff did for the fellow, I’d guess. Yes?’

‘Absolutely,’ Baldwin said. ‘I can see no justification for suspecting the poor Bishop whatever. He would not know how to find this assassin, he would not have had the time to find the man and give his orders in the time available. He is an important guest here, after all. His time has been bound up in visits to others or to chapel.’

‘Quite right. That’s what I thought too. So I was musin’ as I wandered about the castle, whether there was someone else who could have a reason to kill the Procureur. Did you know he was the city’s leading prosecutor of felons? You did? Oh. Well, it just occurred to me that surely the man’s worst enemy is goin’ to be the one who sought his death — and that must mean that there was an affair the fellow was looking at which could have embarrassed someone enough for that someone to pay someone to have the fellow killed. Eh?’

Baldwin half-closed his eyes as he tried to differentiate between the ‘someones’ and the ‘fellows’. ‘Yes,’ he said at last.

‘Good. Glad you said that. Did you know that in the days before he was murdered, this Jean fellow had a talk with the King himself, and was told to get his finger out of his arse and find the killer of a man at the Louvre?’

‘Yes. Jean’s servant told us: it was the man de Nogaret,’ Baldwin said flatly.

‘Perhaps we should search for him, then?’ Simon said. ‘The man who had this fellow de Nogaret killed?’

‘Yes.’

‘Ye’ll pardon me, Sir Baldwin,’ Sir Richard said rather reproachfully, ‘if I observe that you don’t seem all that bothered to find the fellow’s murderer.’

Baldwin looked at the ground, then back to the building behind him. ‘I do not think that it is our place to find the killer of de Nogaret.’

It was Simon who glanced at Wolf, pacing so near. ‘Baldwin, if a man were to harm Wolf, you would seek his killer no matter whom it might be. Do you really mean to tell us that you wouldn’t try to do the same for a man you have never met?’