Michael Jecks - The King of Thieves

Baldwin wordlessly passed him a cup of water from the bucket near the door. The King peered into it with a grimace, but sipped at it, knowing and accepting that there would be nothing better in this life. ‘I am most grateful to you, my lords,’ he said in a cracked voice. ‘I suppose you have come to experience my hospitality here in my chamber? Pray, try the wine. It is exquisite, and the food is beyond compare, if you like weevils in your loaf and enjoy sharing it with the cockroaches each day.’

‘I want to know all you can tell me of the murder of the Procureur,’ Baldwin said.

‘Ah … him. And why not the others, Sir Knight? Was this one man so important that his death is worth mine — and the deaths of others? What, do you think, makes this man so important?’

‘He was an officer of the law,’ Baldwin said. Pons was silent, keeping in the shadows nearby, listening but making no contribution.

‘An officer?’ the King said with mild pain on his features. ‘What of it? Does it make him a better man? I think not!’

‘Perhaps not, but surely it made him more valuable?’ Baldwin said.

The King stretched back his head until all his tendons and muscles were taut, and suddenly gave a burst of laughter. ‘Valuable? Yes. In God’s name, yes ! I was paid a great deal to remove him.’

‘You were successful. Did you kill him yourself?’

‘I am “King”, Sieur Knight. Do I look as though I get my own hands bloody?’

‘So you told one of your men to do it for you?’

‘I was contracted to kill him, I took the money, and passed some on to the assassin. But he was greedy, and demanded more, so I tried to have him punished for his presumption. He hurt several of my own guards, the son of a hog!’

‘There was a body in the Seine …?’ Pons murmured.

‘It was one of my men, whom the assassin killed.’

‘This assassin is no friend of yours,’ Baldwin said.

‘He is the cause of my suffering today.’

‘Will you tell us who he was?’

‘No. I want my own justice for him,’ the King spat. He stood, not quickly with his wounds, but with determination. ‘And it’s not him you want, it’s the priest who paid for the Procureur to be killed, as well as the girl.’

‘What girl?’ Baldwin asked.

‘The one over at the Grand Châtelet two months ago.’

‘She was one of your victims, too?’

‘Yes. I was paid for her killing, and I always fulfil my contracts.’

‘You did it personally?’

‘No. As I said, my way is to always pay another.’

‘What,’ Baldwin asked tentatively, ‘about the man de Nogaret in the Louvre?’

‘That was nothing to do with me. I wouldn’t kill in the King’s own palace,’ the other King said. ‘What, do you think me a fool? To antagonise King Charles can only lead to destruction. I wouldn’t risk that.’

‘So who did?’

‘If I knew that, I’d trade it for my release,’ the King of Thieves spat.

‘You see the problem with him?’ Pons grumbled when they were back in the open air once more. ‘He will wander in his mind, and then dry up and refuse to speak any more, and it takes all the effort of more torture to make him get to the point again.’

‘And yet there were some useful pieces of information he gave us. He said that the same priest ordered the death of the girl as well as that of Jean,’ Baldwin said. ‘And that means it could not be Bishop Walter. He was not in the country when Madame de Nogaret was killed.’

‘Perhaps, but the word of a thief and murderer like that is hardly to be taken as entirely valid,’ Pons scoffed.

‘Not entirely, no. But why would he lie? He knows he’s going to die.’

‘So he finds he can distract us and make us look fools, too!’

Simon interrupted. ‘What of this man he mentioned — this assassin?’

‘One of his own men gone bad, I dare say,’ Pons said. He considered, and then shrugged. ‘If the King in there has decided the man will end his days in the Seine, that’s what’ll likely happen to him.’

‘So he wasn’t responsible for the death of de Nogaret himself, but he did kill the wife,’ Baldwin noted. ‘Which is interesting, eh, Pons?’

‘Why?’

‘Let us return to the Louvre. There is a man I wish to speak to — the messenger who brought news of the visitor to the Cardinal.’

Louvre

The Cardinal glared as Hugues slammed the door wide and burst into the room.

‘He’s gone!’

Cardinal Thomas motioned to the three clerks to close their work and leave him alone with the castellan. When they had gone, he asked curtly, ‘What is the meaning of this?’

‘You wanted the Bishop dead so he couldn’t embarrass you. He’s gone. I have checked with his servants. All are agreed that he and his clerks are nowhere to be seen, and the Bishop’s two most prized possessions are missing: his spectacles and a book he always carried with him. He’s left! Fled the castle and the city.’

‘You must be mistaken,’ the Cardinal said automatically. Gone? The crétin could not have taken flight, surely. He had been alarmed last night after the meal, but that appeared only to make him more determined not to leave without the Queen. To go back alone was tantamount to admitting failure, and there was the matter of the Duke, too, the King’s son. King Edward would hardly be glad to see his son’s guardian turn up in England without his charge. ‘No, you must be mistaken. He wouldn’t dare.’

‘You ask the servants, then. I hunted about the castle, and no one’s seen him.’

‘Go and ask Arnaud. If the Bishop has left, Arnaud’s men will have seen him.’

‘Very well. But if he’s escaped, you’d best start making plans for what you should do.’

The Cardinal stretched and smiled lazily. ‘Me? No. I will be perfectly safe. There is nothing the Bishop can tell the English about me that matters even remotely. I am safe.’

Baldwin and Simon were the first to reach the gatehouse, and Baldwin immediately knocked on Arnaud’s door. ‘Porter? Ah, good. I hope you can help me. I would like to speak with the messenger Raoulet.’

‘I’ll have him brought to you.’

When he arrived, Baldwin and Simon studied Raoulet with interest. Pons affected boredom, however, and Sir Richard found it hard to keep his eyes on the lad.

Baldwin nodded towards some benches near the tavern, and Sir Richard’s spirits lifted. ‘You want a drink?’ he asked hopefully.

The others made no response, but the big Coroner had soon acquired a large pot of wine, which he slurped as the others spoke.

Raoulet was not an impressive witness, Baldwin reckoned. He was young, skinny and spotty, had the sort of baleful resentfulness that could so easily flare into rage, as was common with many young men nowadays. He had little to add to what they knew. Still, there was one aspect which intrigued Baldwin.

‘So you were at the gatehouse and received warning that a man called de Nogaret had come here to meet the Cardinal?’

‘Yes. I was told that by a kitchen knave. He said that he’d installed the man in a small chamber, the one where he was found later.’

‘Do you know the kitchen knave’s name?’

‘Yes. He was young Jehanin. Why?’

‘He’s dead. You know that?’

‘Of course. Lots of us have been talking about it. Sad.’ His face tended to disagree with his words.

‘I am glad there is nothing else to tell us,’ Simon said.

‘So am I,’ Raoulet said. Then he hesitated, his natural inquisitiveness getting the better of him. ‘Why?’

‘No reason. Except all those who knew anything about this meeting between the Cardinal and the man de Nogaret appear to have died. If you knew anything too, you might be next to die, mightn’t you?’