Michael Jecks - The Chapel of Bones

‘But now?’

‘The Dean has asked me who was here then. Who still lives at the Cathedral who was here forty years ago.’

Matthew understood. ‘So you must tell him of my part. And that you too were here.’

‘Yes,’ Stephen said, and looked away with shame flooding his eyes. His voice was soft. ‘I would have your forgiveness, if you feel you could be so generous towards me.’

He looked pathetic. Matthew was repelled by his tears and weakness. ‘I forgive you,’ he said, ‘provided you were not the man who actually beat me and left me for dead. If it were not you, who was responsible for my injuries?’

‘It was dark, Matthew. I think we’ll never know. I was myself running to attack de Lecchelade, but I know I didn’t hit you.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ Matthew demanded hotly. ‘If it was so dark and you were so lost as to not know what was going on, how can you tell?’

‘You were knocked senseless, were you not? I did not hold a club, Matthew. I had only a sword.’

Simon hauled Thomas to his feet. He stood like a man who has lost all his will to resist further, his head hanging, his expression utterly devoid of hope. There was only a grim fatalism in his eyes.

Simon had captured many people in his time. Some felons would wail and tear at their bonds, others would show no remorse, only a determination to escape any possibility of retribution. Seeing a man so hangdog was not unusual; it was a common attitude of one who had committed a crime in a flash of rage, only to regret his own behaviour later, especially when he was caught.

‘Get a move on!’ Simon growled, and the man stumbled slightly as he walked forward, his legs moving loosely and in a gangling manner, like one who was drunk or befuddled.

Baldwin was already outside, and Simon manoeuvred Thomas to the door just as Sara appeared in the lane.

‘Thomas?’ she said, glancing at him and then looking from Baldwin to Simon. ‘Who are you?’

Baldwin introduced himself and Simon, and then nodded towards Thomas. ‘This man was in your house to steal your money.’

‘What money?’ she asked with an expression of surprise. ‘I don’t have any.’

‘There were some coins on your table,’ Baldwin said. He beckoned to Jen. ‘You have the coins?’

‘Here they are,’ Jen said, heaving her bulk through the door and holding her hand out to Sara. ‘Look, this is what he was trying to take.’

‘These aren’t mine,’ Sara said. ‘I don’t have more than two pennies, and they’re here,’ she added, hefting her purse in her hand. ‘I wouldn’t leave money in my house.’

‘Then where did the pennies come from?’ Simon demanded.

‘I tried to explain,’ Thomas said wearily. ‘I put them there for Sara. When I decided to leave the city, I wanted to give Sara something to help her get by. I left her all the whole coins in my purse. That woman saw me enter and chose to assume the worst of me. When I was putting the coins down, she hit me.’

‘And where did you come by all these coins?’ Simon asked.

‘They are the money I’ve been paid for my work. Since I’ve taken away Sara’s husband, I thought the least I could do was try to help her.’

‘It was kind of you,’ Sara said. ‘You didn’t have to.’

‘He’s a murderer !’ Dan said to Baldwin. ‘Take him away from here, we don’t want him or his money! You keep it, murderer !’ he spat.

‘Leave him, Danny,’ his mother said quietly. She was exhausted, and although she had tried to seek work, she had failed through the day. All she wanted was a chance to fall onto her bed and sleep. ‘Thomas was trying to help us. Sirs, he can’t have been robbing us, so can’t you let him loose? I won’t accuse him of anything.’

‘Mistress, we can’t,’ Simon said. ‘He was involved in a murder many years ago, and he may well be the killer of two more men who have died recently. Until he’s been questioned, we can’t let him go.’

‘If he was a murderer, he’d not have been so kind to me and Danny,’ she declared.

Baldwin set his mouth in a firm line. ‘I am sorry, but we do not know that. He must come and be questioned.’

‘Sara, forget me. I hope the money will help you. Just be happy and find someone else to protect you,’ Thomas said quietly. ‘Take me away, please.’

Simon had him by the shoulder, and he directed the man away from the rough home, along the lane and then down the sloping road towards Fore Street. He glanced over his shoulder once, and saw the widow still standing in front of her doorway, her hands on her son’s shoulders, gazing after the three men.

They soon reached the Cathedral, and Baldwin walked straight in through the gate.

‘You made good time, Sir Knight,’ Janekyn called. ‘I’ll be closing this gate soon. What have you there?’

‘This fellow was trying to run from the city,’ Baldwin said. ‘The Coroner will want to see him in the morning, so we need to have him securely held in the Bishop’s gaol. Who can open it for us?’

Janekyn eyed Thomas with some interest, and then led them to the part of the Cathedral where the gaol was, asking them to wait while he sent a novice to look after the gate for him, and then he disappeared to find the gaoler.

‘I didn’t do it, masters,’ Thomas said.

‘What?’ Baldwin asked.

‘I didn’t kill the Chaunter, and I haven’t killed anyone else. Henry was an old friend. I could never hurt him. And Nicholas … I gave him his wounds all those years ago, and I spoke to him to beg forgiveness. He did forgive me.’

‘He forgave you those dreadful scars?’ Simon said disbelievingly. ‘And then what? He bought you a barrel of fresh ale?’

‘No, only a quart of cider,’ Thomas said.

‘When?’

‘The very night he died,’ Thomas shrugged. ‘He forgave me and we went to the tavern on the right as you go up beyond Fissand Gate towards the High Street. We were there for some little while.’

‘Was there anyone there who could vouch for you?’ Baldwin asked.

‘I don’t know. There must have been people there who’d recognise a description of the friar, though. They may have noticed me too.’

‘We will check,’ Simon promised. ‘But for now, you’ll have to remain here. The Coroner will want to speak to you in the morning.’

‘He’ll see me hanged.’

Simon was struck by his attitude. ‘He may agree you’re innocent. How could you be so sure that he’ll want to have you hanged?’

‘I cannot hide my guilt, Master. I was there on the night the Chaunter was killed, as I said, and I fled the city afterwards. I felt guilty and ashamed of my crime. And then, later, I heard that the South Gate had been left wide open, and those responsible hanged. Well, it wasn’t fair or just, but it was a judgement of a sort. It was my father who was hanged. He died in my place.’

Simon gave a grunt of sympathy. ‘I see.’

‘I never thought to return here, not after hearing that. Especially now, though. I have learned who actually had my father killed. It was that devil, William. He told the King about the gate being left open and accused the city of complicity so he could worm his way into the King’s favour. It was because of him my father was hanged.’

‘Is that William the corrodian?’

‘Yes. I was with him and Henry on the night of the killing, and I wish I’d taken the opportunity to kill him. If I had, I’d not be here now.’

Baldwin and Simon led him towards the cells as the gaoler and Janekyn returned. They passed him over, and Thomas walked with them. As Baldwin and Simon stood waiting, they heard the rattle of keys, then the slam of a heavy door being closed.

‘So that is that,’ Simon breathed.