Kate Sedley: The Three Kings of Cologne

Alderman Foster poured and handed me a beaker of wine, then sipped his own. ‘Now, what was it you were asking me, Master Chapman?’

‘I was asking, sir, what efforts were made to find the girl at the time of her disappearance.’

‘That I don’t know. The impression I get from the various people I spoke to yesterday — people who were acquainted with Jonathan and Amorette Linkinhorne — is not perhaps as much as one would expect. For the simple reason, I gather, that the idea of Isabella having come to any harm never entered her parents’ heads. They assumed she had run away with one of her many admirers. She was known to have at least three. Anyway, you will be able to find out more when you make your enquiries.’

‘When I …?’ At last, we had come to the nub of the matter; the reason for my urgent summons which, I had to admit, had escaped me until now. I should have guessed.

Alderman Foster lowered his beaker, looking guilty. ‘Forgive me, Master Chapman, but I was hoping that … well, that you could be persuaded to discover the circumstances surrounding Isabella Linkinhorne’s death. Her body has been found on land that now belongs to me and, foolish though it may seem, I feel responsible for uncovering the facts of the crime and bringing the murderer to justice if I can. You’re the only person I know who might be able to do this.’

Oh, thank you, God! You’ve taken over my life again!

‘But … but, Alderman,’ I managed to stammer before he raised a finger, enjoining my silence.

‘Master Chapman, believe me, I know what you’re going to say. You have a wife and family to support. I understand that. Therefore you must allow me to be your paymaster during such time as you are working at my behest.’

He rose and crossed the room to where a small chest, beautifully carved with acanthus leaves, stood on top of another, larger one. The former had a wrought-iron lock that the Alderman opened with a key, taken from the pocket of his velvet gown, and lifted out a leather drawstring purse which he brought back and placed in my lap. As he did so there was a satisfactory chink of coin on coin.

I made a half-hearted protest. ‘Sir, I have never taken money for any of the mysteries that I’ve solved. I’ve always regarded the ability to do so as a God-given talent; something to be shared freely with other people.’ All the same, I could just imagine Adela’s anger if she learned that I had refused the proffered assistance.

My companion seemed to read my thoughts and chuckled.

‘If your conscience troubles you, Master Chapman, give the purse to your goodwife as a present from me. You needn’t touch a penny of its contents. Well, what do you say? Will you take on this search for me? Will you try to discover what really happened to this poor young woman, even though she was murdered twenty years ago? I feel sure it’s within your powers of deduction.’

I hesitated, but more for effect than any other reason. I could already feel the prickles of curiosity, the need to know the answer to any problem with which I was presented, nudging me towards acceptance of John Foster’s proposal.

‘And if I’m unable to discover the truth?’ I queried.

‘I shall still be satisfied that you have done your best.’ Nevertheless, his tone implied that he would be disappointed.

I sighed. That was my constant fear; that one day someone would present me with a mystery I would find impossible to unravel. My self-esteem would be trampled in the dust.

‘Very well,’ I said, ‘but only if my wife agrees.’ The Alderman inclined his head. ‘So, tell me,’ I went on, ‘who are the people I should speak to? Is there anything further that you, yourself, know about the Linkinhornes?’

The Alderman resumed his seat, reaching out to lay a hand on my arm.

‘First, accept my thanks. I’m deeply grateful to you for your willingness to undertake this investigation for me. I could not go ahead and build a chapel on this land at the top of Steep Street if I felt that I had not done everything in my power to let this poor girl’s spirit lie easy; to bring her murderer to book.’

I doubted that the killer, supposing I could unmask him, would share the same sentiments. Whoever he was, the discovery of Isabella Linkinhorne’s body — if, that is, he had yet heard about it — must have come as a nasty shock. He would surely have thought himself safe after twenty years or more. All the same, he would probably consider it unlikely that anyone would bother to search for him, or that his identity would be uncovered even if anyone tried. It would be almost impossible to prove a man was in a certain place at a certain time two decades earlier. I began to feel very uneasy, wondering what I had taken on.

I realized that Alderman Foster was speaking, answering my question.

‘I can only advise you, my dear young man, to visit Jonathan Linkinhorne at the Gaunts’ Hospital as soon as possible. As I told you, he is a very old man now, eighty-five or thereabouts, unable to look after himself and with no woman to care for him and tend to his needs. Only he can give you the true facts of his daughter’s disappearance, so I would suggest that you talk to him without delay.’

I nodded, picking up the purse and making preparations to rise. ‘Are — were — the Linkinhornes a Bristol family?’ I asked.

‘I believe they lived in the manor of Clifton. Indeed, my information is that Jonathan Linkinhorne continued to live there until he grew too weak to fend for himself. But he will tell you all you need to know. He may be frail in body, but it seems his mind and understanding are as good as ever. Although I am only repeating what friends and mutual acquaintances have told me.’ I got to my feet. The Alderman rose with me. ‘Let me say again how grateful I am to you, Master Chapman. I am in your debt.’

I smiled wryly. ‘Save your thanks, sir, until I’m able to tell you what you want to know. I promise nothing.’

He patted my arm once more. ‘I feel certain you won’t fail me.’ I wished I could share his certainty.

Adela was not best pleased when I reported my conversation with Alderman Foster, but her feelings underwent a change when I produced the purse. She emptied its contents on to the kitchen table and drew a deep breath as the coins ran in all directions. The children, always interested spectators, whooped with excitement and chased those that fell off the edge and clattered across the stone-flagged floor.

‘That’s very generous of the Alderman,’ she said, rescuing the groat that Adam was trying to stuff into his mouth, and instructing the other two to put their booty back on the table. She was beset by sudden doubts. ‘Should you really be willing to accept so much, Roger? I daresay that altogether there’s the value of at least two or three nobles here.’

Her sentiments found an echo in my own mind, but how could I tell how long this enquiry might take me?

‘I didn’t solicit the money,’ I answered quietly. ‘Nor did I expect it. Alderman Foster offered it entirely of his own accord. He’s very anxious that the mystery of this Isabella Linkinhorne’s death should be cleared up and the person responsible brought to justice.’

‘Why, do you suppose? You say he didn’t even know her or her family.’

I shrugged. ‘If he were only intending to build the almshouses on the site, perhaps he wouldn’t worry. But, as I understand it, he is reluctant to raise a chapel on ground that has been contaminated by murder. If the criminal can be brought to book and made to pay the penalty for his misdeeds, then I think the Alderman will feel that he can safely have the graveyard re-consecrated.’

My wife carefully gathered up the coins, dropping them one by one back into the purse. ‘You must do your very best, Roger.’