Michael JECKS - The Boy-Bishop's Glovemaker

‘It became clear at the baker’s just now,’ Baldwin explained. ‘The girl there clearly didn’t care when I said that I’d tell Vincent, although if she had been involved in a crime she should have been worried to hear that the Receiver would be involved. No, she told us to tell him! That showed me that she thought she had operated with his sanction. But we already know that Vincent wasn’t there that morning. He was at the Guildhall. Except a wife may give orders in her husband’s name and many will assume she speaks with his approval. As for using poison, it is ideal for a woman since it can be administered at a distance, and does not involve some of the more risky and unpleasant aspects of murder.’

‘And Ralph?’ the Coroner asked.

‘Was stabbed with a small blade, only half an inch wide. A woman’s knife,’ Baldwin said dispassionately. ‘Just as her berserk attack was typical of a scared woman killing her first victim.’

‘Did you know this?’ Roger demanded of the silent merchant.

‘You only guessed recently, didn’t you, Vincent?’ Baldwin said softly.

‘I didn’t guess until last night when she got back. She told me she’d done it all for me, but I couldn’t believe her. I honestly couldn’t. She told me she’d put poison in Nick and Juliana’s wine. All for me, she kept saying. All for me.’

‘She is evil, Vincent. She thought to placate you for having tried to kill your son. Where is she? She’ll kill someone else if we don’t catch her,’ Baldwin said gently.

Vincent closed his eyes and tears sprang from beneath the lids. He looked as though he had aged twenty years in the last ten minutes. ‘She went to Mass. She’s not back yet.’

Baldwin patted his arm, but then glanced through the window at the daylight outside. ‘For the first Mass of the morning? Shouldn’t she be back by now?’

‘I don’t know,’ le Berwe said and covered his face again.

Sir Thomas was leaning against the wall picking his teeth with a dirty nail. He glanced at Sir Baldwin. ‘What is it?’

‘This woman is irrational. She sees murder as the only means of controlling events and people.’

Simon was already striding for the door. Over his shoulder he called, ‘And two Secondaries are still loose ends to her.’

It was bright and warm in the sunlight and Hawisia felt perfectly composed and calm. The service had gone smoothly for once, the sermon had been comprehensible, and the Secondaries had not dropped the candles or sniggered as they so often did. Today, the twenty-seventh, was after all an important day, for later tonight the boy-Bishop would come into his own.

And everything was going well, too. Thank goodness the Karvinels were no longer a threat. Their menace had been removed from Vincent’s life and he could look forward to a secure future. Hawisia smiled. Her man deserved it. She had done it all for him. There were only two items of business left for her to complete.

She had gone to the north tower and offered to take Jolly’s loaf to him, bearing in mind Adam was unwell. She carried the bread in her basket now, slightly altered with a few of the drops from her bottle. First Jolly, then she must see Adam again.

The air was crisp and fine. From the precinct she could see the smoke from chimneys and louvres all over the city, rising a short distance and then drifting and falling until it formed a pale grey blanket over the whole place. It was warming and pleasant to see how God embraced the world.

Surely she was in God’s hands. At no time had she been in any danger. When that meddling fool Ralph had been about to tell the City Bailiff of Vincent’s little ‘arrangement’ with Adam to do with the candles, she made sure to visit him before the Bailiff. Her luck had held; the baker’s girl had done her job well. Ralph had opened the door, expecting to see William de Lappeford, and expressed his surprise, but when Hawisia, at her most charming, explained that she wanted to buy back some of her husband’s cordwain, he had reluctantly agreed and taken her into his shop.

And as soon as he turned his back in there, she had drawn her knife and struck at him.

Oh, it had been scary at first. Her first blow had made him swear, as though he didn’t realise what was happening. He made to turn, so she struck again and again, to silence him and kill him swiftly. Even when he fell, she kept raining blows upon his back and then his chest, and after a while she realised that his breath had stopped. He stared up at the ceiling sightlessly, his shirt stained ruby red.

He was in the way of the door so she had dragged him away, then took a thin piece of leather and wiped her hands with it, thinking she should return home now, but just as the thought came into her head she heard footsteps. Panic took hold of her – it must be the Bailiff! She frantically sought a place of concealment, then rushed to the door and pushed it shut, locking it. But no one tried to enter. She could hear the dim fool apprentice calling, but then he left.

Relief gave her a new idea. Taking care to see that no one was about, she slipped out of the shop and into the merchant’s house. Upstairs in the chamber, she saw the money-box. And, miraculously, Elias’s knife and keys. At once she saw their importance. She could take the money and put all blame onto the merchant’s apprentice.

Swiftly she pocketed the small sack of coins and gems and, taking the keys and dagger with her, she went downstairs. The apprentice was at the back of the house now; she hardly dared to breathe while the latch jiggled up and down. Then she heard him call to his master, over and over. Hawisia knew there was no time to lose. She hurtled through the hall, unlocked the front door, and dived into the shop just as feet came running along the alley beside it. Panting in her quick fear, she heard Elias enter, shouting for his master, and then she knew she was safe for another couple of minutes. She stabbed Ralph with Elias’s knife to bloody the blade, then dropped Elias’s keys at his master’s side, before, with a happy smile, taking an armful of leathers – it was a terrible weight – and staggering with it to the cart outside, throwing them in and covering them with a sheet.

And that was that. She set off with the cart, pushing it down the slight incline to the Guildhall, where she saw her husband, but he was involved in discussions and couldn’t waste time with her. Vincent had given her one of his men to take the cart back to the shop. All so easy! She had planned it very carefully, but even she hadn’t quite expected to have everything go so smoothly.

The poisoning of Peter was annoying in the extreme. She had delivered the bread, stopping Adam outside the Cathedral on his round, and it had been intended for Jolly, but the Devil had made her stepson give it to his friend instead. Not that it would matter for much longer, she reflected, patting the loaf in her basket. Everyone knew Jolly was her stepson, and no one could associate her with any malice towards him. That made it so much easier, she thought. And in retrospect it was good that Peter had died. He could have been embarrassing after what he told Karvinel.

She was outside Jolly’s place now. Knocking, she entered, staring about her at the wrecked walls. It looked as if rabbits had burrowed to find shelter in the floor. Jolly wasn’t about when she called – he must still be at the Cathedral helping to tidy up after the service, or perhaps he was in the Chapter meeting – so she put the bread on his table and left.

It was while she was walking along the grassed yard towards the Fissand Gate that she saw them, the Bailiff and Sir Baldwin. She was about to wave to them politely, go to meet them and enquire about Jeanne, when the Coroner loomed up behind them and pointed. All at once their faces turned towards her, and in their expressions she saw only accusation and loathing.