Michael Jecks - The Chapel of Bones

‘Why is he here, then?’ Sir Peregrine asked.

‘The King bought him a pension at St Nicholas’s Priory — as payment for his years of service.’

‘It’s all invention, true enough,’ William spat. ‘It’s invented by you ! Coroner, if you insist on holding me here, the least you can do is protect me from the misguided rantings of a fool like this. Are you going to put me in a cell or not?’

Sir Peregrine glanced at Simon. ‘Are you sure of this?’

‘As sure as I can be.’

‘In that case, Corrodian, you are coming back to the city’s lockup. I’ll need to consider the case with the Justices of Gaol Delivery. After all, the King may like to hear about the matter. It sounds as though he has been rewarding you for years of deceit after committing a foul murder.’

‘You can’t be serious! I’m a King’s man, damn your cods!’

‘Which is why you’re going to gaol,’ Sir Peregrine said serenely.

‘Wait! What if I admit? If I approve?’

Sir Peregrine and Simon exchanged a look. Simon said, ‘If you become a King’s Approver, the Justices may be lenient and save your neck.’

‘I will approve! I admit my crimes, and I admit that I also persuaded Matt to tell the tale to the others, but it wasn’t for love of the city — Matthew did it for money. He always wanted more money! That was why he agreed to help have the Chaunter killed. Joel helped, and Henry, but without Matthew, we’d not have succeeded.’

‘So you admit your part in that murder?’ Sir Peregrine demanded.

‘Yes. I was one of the assassins. I helped kill the Chaunter and his familia . I did it to help the city, but Matthew did it from his lust for money. He was a mercenary.’

Sir Peregrine sucked his teeth. ‘Bailiff?’

‘I am content with that. I think you’d better take him to the city gaol now.’

‘I don’t want to go there!’

Simon looked at him for a long moment. ‘William, you have the choice of an ecclesiastical gaol, where the gaoler will be interested in how you tried to thwart the word of a Bishop, or a city gaol where you will be looked after by men who may respect your protection of city men. The choice is yours.’

There was no choice. Soon William was being taken up towards the East Gate, and shortly afterwards, Simon was back in Janekyn’s room. ‘You heard all that?’ he asked Baldwin.

The knight swallowed, and when he spoke his voice was a whisper. ‘Very clearly. Where is the man?’

‘He is usually to be seen on the scaffolding or in the Exchequer. I shall look there first.’

‘Good. But Simon, be cautious. The man has a good bow arm. He may look like a feeble old clerk, but I am proof that his arm is strong indeed.’

‘I shall be careful. Edgar, you stay here and guard your master and mistress. I will be back as soon as I know what has happened.’

The market was filled with people shoving and pushing, and Wymond allowed himself to be carried along with the general flow. At the outside were all the animals: songbirds in cages, kittens wriggling in larger crates, puppies tied to a post. There were stalls with sweetmeats, then the hawkers with apples and vegetables, and only at the top, nearer Carfoix, did he find the alley where he normally bought his bread. However, when he got to the shop he found that the boards were still up.

‘He’s been taken ill,’ a neighbour informed him with that restrained excitement that another’s misfortune will often bring out in a bystander.

Wymond chewed at his lip. There were other shops that sold bread, but he didn’t want to go back to the market. Instead he continued up the lane, which led to St Petrock’s Gate, a narrow way into the Cathedral Close. Intending to take a short cut up to the High Street, he went inside. A few yards from the church he suddenly saw the crowd of men. In their midst was William, a face he thought vaguely familiar, but the others were strangers to him. William was bound at the wrist, and Wymond wondered what he could have been accused of, to be tied up like that.

And then he heard the man’s confession and his shocking revelation that Matthew had helped plan the death of the Chaunter.

Matthew. The Clerk of the Rolls was known perfectly well to Wymond. This man, who had been the sole survivor of the attack, who had been struck down at the beginning of the incident was himself guilty of causing the affray in the first place. He was one of the evil devils who had betrayed poor Vincent.

Wymond looked from William to the Exchequer, the building lay beyond the northernmost tower, and as he studied it, he saw the figure of a clerk among all the labourers on the scaffolding. The clerk was watching the group gathered at the Fissand Gate intently, then he slowly began to make his way along the scaffolding towards a ladder.

It was nothing for Wymond to walk idly down towards the Cathedral, around the wall of St Mary Major, along the line of houses, and over to the point where the ladder reached the ground. Once there, Wymond saw the clerk descend the last rung and then hurry along the paved roadway towards the Bear Gate.

Wymond gripped his bow more firmly and hastened after the man. He was certain now that this was his target. The clerk scurried along like a rat, his legs going all anyhow at speed, whereas Wymond could march steadily and cover a great distance with each stride.

At the point where the Bear Gate met the street, Matthew turned left, heading down towards the Southern Gate of the city; and now there were more people to block Wymond’s sight, but he was sure of Matthew’s direction, and didn’t hesitate. By continuing to the gate, Wymond knew that soon he would be out of the city itself and back in the open wildlands where he had slept last night. Once through the old gate, there were fewer people, since all were heading into the city from the suburbs to buy their food, just as he had done. He sighted his quarry ahead, taking the Magdalene road, and Wymond felt delight stirring in his breast. This would be an easy shot!

Thomas couldn’t wait while Simon and Peregrine split up their men, some to take William to the city’s gaol, others to go with them to find Matthew. Instead he hurried across the Cathedral Close to the Exchequer and burst in through the door. He met Stephen’s scandalised glare with an angry stare of his own.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ the Treasurer demanded, but Thomas merely snapped back, ‘Where is he? The Warden of the Fabric?’

‘Why, up on the scaffold, I believe. He likes to keep an eye on the men up there, especially since your clumsy killing of the mason. Why?’

‘Because your lovely clerk is a liar ! He helped kill the Chaunter. He deceived everyone.’

Stephen closed his eyes a moment. Then, ‘You want him for that?’

‘Yes,’ Thomas said as he banged out. It was only later he wondered at the choice of words, almost as though Stephen had expected Matthew to be taken for something else. Still, just now he had no time to worry about the Treasurer’s odd manner. He ran to the scaffolding and shouted up to the gang at the top: ‘Where’s Matthew? Have you seen him?’

‘He was here a moment ago,’ the Master Mason answered. ‘He must have gone for a drink or something.’

Thomas chewed his lip. That did not sound right. The sun was nowhere near its full height in the sky; it was too early for Matthew to have gone for a drink. Perhaps a piss, but then he’d still be in view. No, he was gone somewhere else.

‘Anyway,’ the Master called, ‘what’re all those buggers doing over there? Matt was wondering — he said he knew the man in the middle. What’s going on?’

Thomas swore to himself, and as Simon and a small force joined him, he shouted, ‘He’s gone! You’ve missed him!’