Edward Marston - The Owls of Gloucester

First, when Siward left. Then with Dena’s parents. I have never been through such harrowing interviews.’ He clasped his hands in prayer. ‘Dear God in heaven, do not inflict the ordeal on me again. Help us to find him, Lord. We humbly beg you to return your young servant safely to the abbey.’

‘Amen,’ said Hubert.

‘They will have to be told,’ said Serlo through clenched teeth.

‘It is their right. Owen’s parents must be informed.’

‘But not just yet, Abbot Serlo.’

‘It is a cruelty to keep it from them.’

‘Is it not more cruel to put them through a torture which may yet be avoided. Hold off a while, I implore you. Give us a little time to look more closely into this crime. With God’s blessing, we may be able to give Owen’s parents some good news.’

‘That depends on your colleagues.’

‘Hold faith with them.’

‘Can they really solve these crimes, Canon Hubert?’

‘The lord Ralph and Gervase Bret are remarkable individuals.’

‘But you said earlier that you had doubts about their theory.’

‘I do,’ admitted Hubert readily. ‘But in matters like this, they have a curious habit of proving me wrong.’

By the time they left the abbey precincts, Gloucester had already stirred. Tradesmen were open for business and people were milling in the streets. Ralph and Gervase called on the first of the two locksmiths but drew a complete blank. The man neither recognised the key which they showed him nor remembered having made one quite so large. Everything hinged on the second locksmith.

Ralph had misgivings.

‘What if the duplicate was not made in Gloucester?’

‘Where else?’

‘Brother Nicholas travelled far and wide.’

‘Only into the country,’ said Gervase, ‘and locksmiths are thin on the ground there. I daresay that Tewkesbury has one, Winchcombe, too, but the abbey holdings do not lie in that direction. The rent collector would have no cause to visit either town.’

‘His accomplice might,’ suggested Ralph. ‘What better way to cover his tracks than to employ a locksmith far away from here?’

‘But there was no need to cover his tracks.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because he never expected anyone to discover that the duplicate had been fashioned. For two whole years, nobody did.

Brother Nicholas and his accomplice made one fatal mistake, Ralph.’

‘What was that?’

‘They never expected us.’

Ralph was reassured enough to give a hearty laugh. When they found the second locksmith, the street in which his shop lay was quite busy. Two customers were calling on the tradesman himself. Ralph wanted to push to the front of the queue but Gervase advised patience so that they could study the locksmith and gauge his character. Palli was a short, fussy, fidgety man with shoulders hunched by a lifetime of bending over his work.

Thick veins stood out on the backs of unwashed hands. Ralph noted the dirt under his fingernails.

‘I’m glad the fellow does not cook my food,’ he said.

‘He seems proficient enough at his trade,’ noted Gervase, looking around. ‘His shop is larger than the other one and these customers clearly trust him. He may well be our man, Ralph.’

‘And if he isn’t?’

The question hung unanswered in the air. When both customers departed, Ralph and Gervase stepped up to the counter. Palli appraised them with a keen eye. It did not approve of Ralph Delchard. The little locksmith turned instead to Gervase Bret.

‘Can I help you?’ he grunted.

‘I hope so,’ said Gervase, showing him the key borrowed from the abbey. ‘Did you make this?’

‘No,’ said Palli at once.

‘How do you know? You have not looked at it properly.’

‘I don’t need to. I can see at a glance that it doesn’t bear my mark. Here,’ he explained, taking a large key from a hook and pointing to a crude pattern stamped into it. ‘All my work bears my signature.’

‘Forget this particular key,’ said Gervase, wishing that the man would stop twitching. ‘I borrowed it from the porter at the abbey.

What I want to know is whether or not you made a duplicate of it.’

‘Why didn’t you say so?’

‘Take it, man,’ ordered Ralph irritably. ‘And be quick about it.’

Giving him a hurt look, Palli accepted the key, weighed it in his hand then subjected it to thorough scrutiny. He ran a finger gently over it as if stroking a cat. Ralph’s irritation grew.

‘Well?’ he demanded.

‘I may have done,’ said the other uncertainly, ‘but I couldn’t be certain. So many keys pass through my hands, my lord.’

‘But surely not as large as this one,’ argued Gervase. ‘Apart from the abbey, only the castle and the churches would have something this size.’

‘I know. I make keys for both.’

‘So you are used to this kind of work.’

‘It is my trade, sir.’

‘There is another locksmith in Gloucester. If someone wanted a duplicate of that key, where would they go? To him or to you?’

‘To me, if they had any sense. He is a poor workman.’

‘Stop boasting about yourself,’ ordered Ralph. ‘It’s very important that we know if a duplicate was made. Now, have you seen this key before or one identical to it?’

‘I’ve seen a number like it, my lord,’ said Palli, turning it over in his hand. ‘Whether they were identical is another matter. I’ve certainly made no duplicate in recent months.’

‘This would not have been a recent commission,’ said Gervase.

‘Oh.’

‘We can’t give an exact date but it might be up to two years ago.’

‘Two years!’

‘Think back.’

‘You’re asking a lot there,’ said Palli, fidgeting with the key before handing it back. ‘Two years! Several keys have passed through my hands in two years.’

‘This one will pass through your innards if you don’t try harder,’

warned Ralph. ‘Cudgel your brain, man. A key from the abbey.

Two years ago. A duplicate is wanted. That sort of thing doesn’t happen every day.’

‘No, my lord,’ conceded the man. ‘You have jogged my memory.

It’s not often that a monk walks into my shop. Especially one who pays me so well. Yes,’ he said, groping in his mind for detail. ‘I’d have thought it was only a year ago but it could well be two, even more. And he did ask for a duplicate to be made. Quickly, for he could not leave the key with me for any length of time. The one I sold him must still be at the abbey. You’ll know it by my mark.’

‘You’ll know me by my mark, if you’re not careful!’ warned Ralph.

‘This monk you mention,’ said Gervase. ‘Can you describe him?’

‘They all look the same to me.’

‘But he was definitely from the abbey?’

‘Oh yes. He left the key with me first thing in the morning and came back after nightfall. My wife and I had gone to bed. She was not best pleased when he came knocking on our door.’

‘You said that he paid you well.’

‘More than I asked.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Because he was so delighted with my work,’ said Palli. ‘He had this satchel over his shoulder and he took the money out of that. I could hear the coins jingling. That satchel sounded as if it was full.’

Ralph and Gervase had the identification they needed. Brother Nicholas had bought the duplicate key himself. The one which he had given to Palli had been borrowed from Abbot Serlo. It was not needed by the rent collector again. Gervase thanked the locksmith and they went out. Ralph’s annoyance gave way to a surge of excitement.

‘I knew it, Gervase! We’re on the right track.’

‘It’s going to be a long and winding one.’