Michael Jecks - The King of Thieves

‘Continue, then,’ Baldwin said. ‘What happened with this woman?’

Jacquot hawked and spat. ‘The first thing was, she was bumped by the Cardinal. He told her, if she wanted to spread tales about him, he would have her arrested by the Church and imprisoned. Then the castellan told her she would do well to leave them both alone. But he liked her. And he bedded her. And to keep bedding her, he would have to do her bidding. He thought she only wanted money. She didn’t. She wanted power as well. Power over other people. So she killed the de Nogarets to gain power over the Cardinal.’

‘A woman did that?’ Pons scoffed. ‘This man’s a fool. Take him to the Temple …’

‘Wait a moment,’ Baldwin said. ‘Continue.’

‘She killed the first somehow, and when the Cardinal reached the man, he realised he’d be blamed. Worse, he knew that the money which he had taken would be claimed by the King if it was thought he had killed de Nogaret. So he chose to conceal all. And when the Procureur came close to realising there was a link between the Cardinal and the dead man, the Cardinal sought to silence that enquiry too. He paid the King of Thieves to remove this embarrassment.’

‘And the girl?’

Jacquot looked up at Baldwin. ‘She wanted power, as I said. So she was sworn to kill me too and remove another possible obstacle to her authority.’

‘So, as you say, you killed in self-defence.’ Pons’s voice was dripping with acid. ‘Take him to the Temple. Have him held there until we know what to do with him.’

The thief-taker nodded and took Jacquot’s arm. He gave a short nod to Pons, another to Baldwin, and then a brief bow to Hélias. Baldwin was sure that he saw him wink too, which made him frown a moment, but then Pons was chivying them back towards the Louvre. ‘Come! There is little more to be discussed here. We must find a jug of good wine to celebrate the discovery of the murderer and her death at last!’

Jacquot was a pathetic figure, the thief-taker thought to himself. There was nothing about him to inspire fear or awe. Still, there was the fact that he was worth money. That alone was enough to make him look entirely delightful.

‘Slower, friend,’ Jacquot said. ‘I am tired and failing after the way they beat me.’

‘Piss on you! Get a move on!’

‘Am I a danger to you? Am I a threat? Do you need to hurry me to my death? Let a man enjoy his last walk.’

‘I said, get a …’

The blade sank in silently, swiftly, and only when he withdrew it did it make a little sound, like a liquid belch. But there was no possibility that anyone would have heard it. Jacquot helped the body to the ground, rolling it over a few times to shove it nearer a wall, before wiping his blade on the man’s back and setting off quickly towards the city’s north gate. He still had much to do.

Arnaud was nervous as the men appeared in the gateway. He didn’t care about the English, but Pons was a different matter. ‘Master, I …’

‘What is the matter with the fellow?’ Sir Richard demanded. Even Wolf appeared surprised. He sat near Arnaud and gazed up, panting with mild reproof, or so Baldwin felt.

‘Do you have something to say?’ Pons said. ‘We are in a hurry.’

‘It’s the castellan, Sieur. I am not sure, but I think the day that de Nogaret was killed, that woman out there who was slain today — I saw her with the boy, the kitchen knave who died. Little Jehanin.’

‘And you said nothing?’

‘What could I say?’

‘Anything else?’ Baldwin snapped angrily. If this man had spoken earlier, much of his work in the last few days could have been reduced.

‘I did not think of it at the time, but some days after the murder, I spoke with her. She mentioned that she had met de Nogaret in a tavern or wine shop.’

‘Who did you tell?’ Pons demanded.

‘No one. She was speaking about the Cardinal, saying how the boy had told her he was coming to the castle to get money from the Cardinal and would soon be rich, because the Cardinal had stolen some and-’

‘What of the castellan?’ Baldwin interrupted sharply. ‘What of him?’

‘He told me to tell you. He was her lover, and he was very upset to learn that she had been with the lad.’

‘Why?’ Pons wondered.

‘I think we should speak to him,’ Baldwin said urgently. ‘Come!’

But it was too late. The body of the castellan swung gently from the rope about his neck, the hemp creaking with the regular pendulum swing.

‘Cut him down,’ Pons said quietly.

‘Why did he do that?’ Arnaud said. He was standing in the doorway behind them as Simon clambered on to the desk and ran his dagger’s edge along the rope while Sir Richard gripped the body in a hug. It was soon lying on the floor, a disjointed huddle of clothing.

‘He knew his position here was soon to end,’ Baldwin said, and sighed. ‘This man and his comrade, the Cardinal, both knew that once their past offences were bruited about, they would be ruined. The King would demand their money, and would almost certainly punish them for stealing treasure that should have come to the King himself.’

‘The money from the Pope?’ Simon objected. ‘That was no more the King’s than it was theirs.’

‘No more it was. But Kings have a habit of ignoring little details of that nature,’ Baldwin said with a dry smile. ‘The King would remember that his father sent Guillaume de Nogaret with his little force to capture the Pope, and were any man to make a profit, he would expect it to be himself. I have no doubt that Sieur Hugues would have been punished. The Cardinal, of course, would probably survive owing to his religious position. That would give him immunity.’

‘Then why would he bother to kill de Nogaret?’ Simon asked.

‘How do you think the present Pope would react to learning that one of his Cardinals had a part in the capture, ill-treatment, robbery and subsequent death of his predecessor?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Oh.’

‘And the ironic thing is, he didn’t harm de Nogaret.’

Pons frowned. ‘What?’

‘That is what this man died for, I think,’ Baldwin said, eyeing Hugues’s body. ‘He introduced his whore to his past. He let the girl know how he got his money, I expect. And in return she threatened to blackmail him and his friend the Cardinal. And when they proved less than susceptible, she killed the young de Nogaret herself, and sent a little boy to find a messenger to go to the Cardinal to ask him to visit the room where she had done it. Then she killed the boy, the kitchen knave, so that no one would be able to show that she had any connection with the dead man. She was adept at covering her tracks. I admit that.’

‘And the Cardinal paid to have Jean killed because he could see how all pointed to him,’ Pons agreed.

‘Yes. And this same Amélie, I expect, likely also killed the wife of de Nogaret.’

‘How so?’

Baldwin jerked his head towards the other side of the castle. ‘You told me that the de Nogaret boy died with a knife in his back, yes? He turned his back on the woman because he knew full well that a woman was less of a threat. Especially a woman he already knew from drinking with her. Just as his wife knew her too, and perhaps made no complaint when Amélie asked her to walk with her. But a woman walking with another is less likely to be entirely trusting. Men are more innocent, I have often observed.’

‘So was this Amélie guilty of all the murders here?’ Pons said.

‘I think so. And this man killed himself because the idea of losing all was so hateful to him.’

‘His money and position, you mean?’ Pons said, looking down at Hugues too.

It was Arnaud who tentatively added what Baldwin was thinking. ‘And his woman, mon Sieur. He loved her, in despite of all.’