Michael Jecks - The Chapel of Bones

Paul shrugged. ‘The door was a bit open.’

‘Not wide, then?’

‘No. Only an inch or two of gap.’

‘What time of day was this?’

‘Curfew. It was quite dark.’

‘If it was that late, how did you see that the door was ajar?’

‘I don’t know. I could see, though.’ Paul frowned.

‘No matter. So you walked to the door? What then?’

‘I walked up to it, yes, and I …’ Paul suddenly had a vivid recollection. ‘Yes! I remember, there was a faint glow from inside. It outlined the door itself, and I went to it wondering whether someone was in there holding a service — that was it!’

‘You pushed, then?’

‘Yes, but only gently. I wanted to see who was there. And as I pushed, I saw that there was a man on the floor …’

‘Did you notice whether there was a candle in front of you?’

‘I didn’t see one,’ Paul said with a glower of concentration. ‘No, I don’t think so. But there was something else … if a candle’s snuffed, or if it gets blown out by a door opening, there’s usually a smell of the smoke, yes? I don’t remember that at all. Although there might have been the smell of some tallow or something.’

‘Do you think that means that there could have been a candle alight, then?’ Baldwin pressed him.

The lad shrugged.

‘Very well. So you were standing in the doorway, and before you was the body. How was he lying?’

‘He was on his face. His boots were towards me. I could see the soles of them. They were all stained with mud and dirt.’

Baldwin nodded. ‘Face down, feet towards you. How were his legs? Were they straight, bent, together, apart? The same with his arms. And his head, how was that? Literally with his face down, or was it set to one side?’

‘I didn’t really look at his face that well. I was …’

‘I understand — but his legs, his arms?’

‘His legs were apart,’ Paul said, his eyes closed as he tried to remember. ‘And the left one was bent a bit, the right one straight. His feet were apart. His right arm was under him, I remember, but his left was beside his body, the palm up.’

Baldwin mused. The saddler could have marched in and been attacked by someone lying in wait, or someone could have been behind him and thrust the knife in his back as he crossed the threshold, perhaps clapping a hand over his mouth to smother his cries as he did so. Without having seen the body as soon as it was discovered, Baldwin would only be guessing based upon the boy’s testimony.

‘You ran and fetched the porter, I think?’

‘Yes. I’d been locking up with Janekyn beforehand, and I ran back to him. I knew he wouldn’t have finished there yet, and he’s a good man to have at your side when you’re a bit — um — worried.’

‘I can imagine,’ Baldwin said soothingly.

‘He came back with me, and we hurried inside. It was so dark, we could hardly see a thing, and …’

‘Yet you saw well enough before,’ Baldwin pointed out sharply.

‘Yes, but it was darker by then. Maybe it was the failing light.’

Or a man had been there with a candle when you first walked in, but he had left by the time you returned, Baldwin thought.

Joel gingerly touched the swelling on his jaw and grimaced. That was Will, right enough. The vicious devil had given him this blow just as he was about to leave Joel’s house, slamming his bloody staff into his face as a goodbye gift. Good God alive! Joel had thought he was going to die at that point. The man had swung his weapon like a poleaxe, and Joel hadn’t been able to move for some minutes, the pain was so intense. And then he found he had a mouth full of blood. One of his back teeth had chipped, because when he felt about there with his tongue, it caught on a piece like a razor up there. He had to go to his workshop and fetch a file to round it off a little so he didn’t cut his tongue while eating.

Bloody William. He never even gave Joel a chance to talk. Just in, bash, and out again. Bastard! He hadn’t changed much over the years.

Maud walked in just as he had set his file down, and she gazed at him with alarm. ‘What on earth have you done to yourself? You look awful, Joel.’

‘S’hank you, dear,’ he lisped. His bottom lip didn’t seem to want to work properly and he daren’t open his mouth too much in case it hurt.

‘What happened? Have you been robbed?’

Joel smiled lopsidedly. It was a constant fear of Maud’s, ever since a friend over in Baker’s Row was broken into some years ago. The thieves had entered over the wall to the yard, then got in by the rear door, ransacking the place, defecating on a chair, and generally ruining everything. And then, when the owners returned, they were attacked and beaten. The husband was so severely clubbed that he never fully regained the use of his right arm. They caught the villains and hanged them, but that didn’t help the poor fellows who had been so badly wounded.

‘No, maid. It’s not that.’

‘Then how did you do that?’ she demanded. She had approached him, and she stood before him, peering at his jaw. ‘Let me see … Keep still! If you jerk like that I’ll hurt you.’

‘Don’t be so damn silly, woman, you already bloody have!’

‘And none of that sort of language in my hall, Husband! Keep still, now, you’re worse than a baby!’

‘Woman, will you … Will you leave it!’

She ignored him, but started to roll up her sleeves and called to their maidservant. ‘Bring warm wine and water, some towels and a cup. Oh, and ask Vince to come in here to help me.’

‘Maid, I don’t need to have this done. I’ve got customers to speak to.’

‘Fat lot of good you’ll be,’ she said, peering with narrowed eyes at his wound, ‘with your face like this, and unable to pronounce the simplest words. Keep still!’

‘Woman, will you please …’

‘Oh, good. Vince, pass me a cloth soaked in the wine, would you? Now, Husband, who did this to you?’

‘I’ll not talk while you’re fooling around there, damn it. Ow!’

‘Don’t be so foolish. Now, who was it?’

‘Good God! All right, it was William.’

She stopped and withdrew from him, staring at his face. ‘William? Why on earth would he do this?’

‘Jesus! Vince, get out. Go on, go!’

Maud was so surprised that she didn’t argue, and Vince put the bowl down on the table beside her, then walked slowly from the room. He pulled the door shut behind him, and fully intended to leave the place, but … but didn’t. It was an intriguing mystery, this attack on his master, and which apprentice could resist a tale like this? It was more than he could endure, to walk away now and leave the question of why Master Joel’s old companion and friend had attacked him. Rather than scurry off to the workshop, he stayed, hand still on the latch and gradually, very gradually, his ear moved closer to the boards of the door itself, until his lobe actually touched the wood.

‘I don’t know why, Maud — the man’s unstable. He said something about being attacked, but how should I know anything about it? He’s mad; practically foaming at the mouth today.’

‘Why should he think it was you?’

‘I don’t know … Ow ! Are you trying to kill me, Wife? What was that for?’

‘There’s something about him, isn’t there? What is it?’

‘Oh, not again! Look, if I tell you, it’s a secret. I don’t want anyone else hearing about it, all right?’

‘Very well.’

‘And I want you to stop dabbing at me with that damned cloth. Just leave me in peace! No! Take it away, or I won’t tell you. That’s better.’

‘I’ve stopped now.’

Joel’s voice suddenly lost its warmth and power. Vincent thought he sounded like a man who had been hung over the edge of a precipice, and he had seen the depths beckoning.