Pat McIntosh - The Harper's Quine

‘You aren’t much like your brother, are you?’ What does she mean by that? Gil wondered, but she chattered on. ‘Greyfriars? Oh, of course, that poor woman’s to be buried this afternoon, isn’t she? John will be there. It’s only proper.’

‘I’m sure Sempill of Muirend will do what is right,’ said Gil, and was aware of sounding fatuous.

‘And have you come any nearer finding who killed her? Or who struck down the mason’s boy? What about his lass? It must be very difficult for you, with so little evidence.’

‘We are searching for evidence,’ he assured her.

‘I suppose if you find all her missing possessions it will help,’ she chattered. ‘The plaid, the purse, the harp key and — what was it? A cross? That the poor mad woman was screaming at the gates about last night. I thought at first it was the devil himself come to get us all!’

As well you might, thought Gil, trying to suppress the image of her bare back by candlelight.

‘And John was furious.’ She giggled throatily. ‘Such a rage he was in. It took me the rest of the night to soothe him.’

Gil, grasping her meaning, wondered if his ears were going red. He risked a glance at her and found her suddenly very like her brother, smirking at him sideways like a well-fed cat, the dimple very much in evidence. Beyond the piled-up linen of her headdress he met a burning stare from the small man.

‘How is the mad woman?’ she went on. ‘I heard you took her away — is she locked up? She certainly ought to be out of harm’s way. She needs to be tied to St Mungo’s Cross for the night, like one of Colqhoun’s servants at Luss. They brought him all the way in and tied him to the Cross. It cured him, too, at least he died, but he was sane when he died.’

‘She is safe enough,’ Gil began.

‘And the dogs barking like that. I thought I would die laughing when all the neighbours woke and started shouting too. I’m surprised the Watch didn’t come to see what the trouble was. I’m sure they could hear the noise in Inveraray.’

‘Nobody shouted for the Watch.’

‘I saw a lovely piece of black velvet when I was last in Rothesay. It was very dear, so I just left it, but I wish now I’d bought it, for there’s not a scrap fit to wear in Glasgow and I’ve nothing suitable to go to a burying in. If I can borrow a black mantle I’ll be there, but I don’t know. Antonio can bring me, or Euan. He ought to be there, dear knows — after all,’ Euphemia said, giggling again, ‘he promised to see her home.’

‘Maister Cunningham! Maister Cunningham!’

Feet hurried in the muddy street. Gil halted, and looked back over his shoulder, to see Alys pattering towards them past a group of maidservants, her brown skirts hitched up out of the mud, neat ankles flashing.

‘Oh, Maister Cunningham, well met!’ she exclaimed as she reached his side, taking his outstretched hand, answering his smile. She looked beyond him and curtsied to Euphemia. ‘Forgive me, madame. I hope I don’t intrude. I am sent with a word from my father to Maister Cunningham.’

‘Not at all, my dear,’ said Euphemia in execrable French. ‘We were merely discussing the markets of the burgh.’ Her eyes flicked over Alys’s linen gown. ‘I don’t imagine you can tell me where to buy cloth in Glasgow.’

‘Then you haven’t seen Maister Walkinshaw’s warehouse, madame?’ responded Alys politely. Two apprentices passed them, leather aprons covered in mud, rolling a barrel up the street.

‘Oh, that,’ said Euphemia. ‘But we are forgetting your errand. What did your father send you to say? Tell Maister Cunningham, and then you may go home safely.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ said Alys, ‘for my father sends to bid you to the house, sir.’

‘Is that right?’ said Lady Euphemia, raising her finely plucked brows. ‘I am sure Maister Cunningham will have time for your father when he has convoyed me home.’

‘No, madam,’ said Gil in Scots, aware of a level of this conversation which he did not fully understand. ‘I undertook to see you as far as Greyfriars, and here we are.’ He nodded at the end of the wynd beside them.

‘What, are we here already?’ She looked round, startled. ‘And I was wanting to ask you — She glanced sideways at the group of maidservants, who were just passing them, and lowered her voice. Gil bent his head to hear her, uneasily conscious of how intimate it must look to the passers-by. ‘Have you found that girl? The one that was with the boy?’

‘We have,’ Gil said, ‘but — ‘

‘And did she tell you anything?’ Glittering green eyes stared up at him, holding his gaze. ‘Surely she was able to help?’

‘We haven’t questioned her,’ said Gil, ‘because — ‘

‘Oh, but you should have! You must see that! Didn’t you want to find out what she knew?’

‘We do,’ said Alys at Gil’s other side, ‘but she is the wrong lass. Forgive us, Lady Euphemia. I am sure Signor Antonio can see you safe home.’

Euphemia stared from Gil’s face to Alys’s, apparently startled into silence. Gil seized the opportunity to disengage his wrist from her grasp. Stepping away, he bowed and strode off down the High Street with Alys hurrying at his side.

‘All is well,’ she said quietly. ‘You may come to the White Castle and eat with us.’

‘Shortly,’ he said. ‘I have an errand up the town once they are out of sight.’

‘They are still watching us,’ she said, with a covert glance over her shoulder, ‘but you have no errand. All is well. I have found the harpstring.’

He checked, staring down at her, and she tugged him on by the hand which still clasped hers.

‘How? How did you know?’

She let goof him and gathered up her skirts again.

‘Come and eat, and I will explain.’

‘There are others must be told.’

‘No, I have seen to all of it. Come and eat — there is just time before the burial. I asked the harper and his sister too, when I went back there, but they wished to be early at the kirk. He has his farewells to make.’

‘I am right glad you found me,’ he said, following her. ‘I can still smell that woman’s scent. It must have been on her glove.’ He sniffed at the wrist of his doublet. ‘Ugh — yes.’

Alys turned in at the pend.

‘Where?’ she asked, pausing in the shadows. ‘Let me …?’ She bent her head to his offered wrist. ‘No, your nose must be keener than mine. I will give you some powdered herbs to rub on the cloth, if you like, to take the scent away. Mint and feverfew should mask it for you.’

‘That sounds like what Maggie uses against fleas,’ he observed, following her into-the-yard.

‘It is,’ she agreed, her smile flickering, ‘but it has other uses. Maister Cunningham, the child is here. He and his nurse both. The harper knows.’

‘So you didn’t come straight home.’

‘I went to speak to Nancy,’ she agreed, ‘and persuade her to bring the child here. She knew me by repute, at least — her sister is Wattle’s wife, and Luke is winching their cousin — so she was willing enough to accompany me.’ Her eyes danced. ‘It was exciting,’ she admitted. ‘We spied out of the window till the gallowglass was gone up the harper’s stair, and hurried across the yard with the bairn hidden in Nancy’s plaid. Then we cut round by the back lands, and across Greyfriars yard, and so down the High Street.’

‘And the harper?’

‘I went back after they were settled. You were not long left, it seems.’

‘This is a great relief,’ he said. ‘How did you — what made you — ‘

‘I thought about it last night,’ she said, moving towards the house stair, ‘and it seemed to me a baby with two fathers and a murdered mother should be in a safe place until the thing is untangled.’