Paul Doherty - Song of a Dark Angel

'Who else from Hunstanton comes here?'

'Sometimes Sir Simon Gurney and that surly man-at-arms of his, Catch-'

'Catchpole,' Corbett finished.

'And the people from the convent come to sell their wool. Oh, yes, and Sir Simon's physician, a fat man called Selditch. Why do you ask?'

Corbett got to his feet. 'I just wondered. You are a native of these parts?'

'Yes.'

'Does the name Orifab mean anything to you?'

The miller shook his head.

'Does much smuggling go on?' Corbett asked.

Culpeper's face widened into a grin. 'Sir Hugh, I shouldn't be telling you this, but that is the most lucrative trade around here. Everybody smuggles, but catching them and proving it is another matter!'

Corbett left Culpeper and went back to the Guildhall, where Ranulf was sitting on the steps waiting for him. 'Any luck, Ranulf?'

'None whatsoever, Master. The last Holcombe died some forty years ago. However, I have found our goldsmith, Edward Orifab. He owns a large shop only a few alleyways from here. Our alderman gave me directions. But, Master, I'm starving!'

Corbett and he went to a nearby tavern and sat at the long table which ran from one wall to the wine tuns. Corbett looked at the cat stalking the counter where the meat would be cut and, seeing the greasy blobs of fat lying on the table, confined himself to bread and ale. Ranulf, however, who had a stomach as hard as flint, ate with relish a dish of meat.

Ranulf then led Corbett to a large goldsmith's shop in Conduit Street, its black beams and pink plaster freshly painted. There was a large stall in front manned by a journeyman and two apprentices, who informed Corbett that their master was not in. Corbett and Ranulf ignored their shouts and entered the shop. They found the goldsmith, a dour, vinegary-faced fellow, sitting at his counting table surrounded by chests and coffers. Corbett was reminded of a picture of a miser in a stained-glass window. He almost expected to see a devil appear to drag the man off to hell. Orifab hitched his fur-lined robe around him and sniffed, his gimlet eyes dismissing Ranulf and Corbett as not really worth attention.

'What do you want?' he demanded.

'Some manners for a start,' Ranulf replied cheerily. 'Didn't your mother ever tell you, manners maketh the man?'

'I'm busy,' the fellow retorted. He moved stacks of coins around the table.

Ranulf grabbed the table and shook it. The coins were sent spilling. Orifab leapt to his feet, lips curling like a dog.

'Master Orifab,' Corbett intervened. 'My name is Sir Hugh Corbett and I am here as the representative of the king. I need to ask you some questions.'

The goldsmith stepped back, knocking his stool over. He smiled, his head bobbing like a fawning dog.

'I didn't know,' he muttered.

'Well, you do now!' Ranulf told him – he enjoyed baiting the pompous and the wealthy in the presence of old Master Long Face.

'What is it you want? How can I help?' Orifab stuttered. The goldsmith sat down and waved them to a bench in front of the table.

Corbett remained standing.

'Do you know Robert the reeve from Hunstanton village?' Orifab pressed his lips together and shook his head. 'He came here,' Corbett continued quietly, 'a few weeks ago to collect a bequest.'

The goldsmith blinked and looked down at his coins. 'Yes, yes, I remember.'

'Who left that bequest?'

The goldsmith laced his fingers together nervously and stared longingly out of the window.

'It's a secret,' he mumbled. 'I can't tell you.'

'Fine,' Corbett replied and turned to go.

Ranulf pushed his face a few inches from the goldsmith's pale cheek.

'Master Orifab,' he hissed. 'Within a month you will receive a summons from Westminster. The barons of the exchequer will demand your presence and ask you the same question. I sincerely hope you give them a better reply than you gave Sir Hugh!'

'Wait! Wait!' The goldsmith jumped to his feet, alarmed at the prospect of a long and tiring journey to London. He waved Corbett over. 'I'll show you,' he whispered. 'But you mustn't tell anyone, particularly my wife.'

Corbett pulled a face at Ranulf. The goldsmith scuttled out to tell the journeyman to look after the shop. He then led Corbett and Ranulf down Tower Street, past Greyfriars, to a large house standing in its own grounds. Orifab pushed the garden gate open. He looked furtively around and knocked at the door. A pretty young maid answered and immediately beckoned them in. As soon as the door was closed behind them Ranulf took one look at a young girl scampering, half-dressed, upstairs and began to'chuckle. As they went into a small antechamber, Ranulf grabbed Corbett's arm.

'Ever been to a molly-shop, Master?' he whispered.

Corbett narrowed his eyes.

'A brothel!' Ranulf hissed.

Corbett stared around the small room. It was luxuriously furnished, with dyed rugs on the floor, and a log fire spluttered in the small hearth. The chamber boasted at least four chairs, all with quilted backs, as well as a large, polished chest. Two tapestries on the wall, however, convinced Corbett that Ranulf was correct. Both were classical in style and both depicted young women in various stages of undress, boldly displaying their charms to lascivious-looking satyrs.

A tall, grey-haired lady came in. She looked rather dour, with her prim face, sharp features and long brown dress. She smiled at Orifab, but looked suspiciously at Corbett and Ranulf.

'You have brought us guests, Master Orifab?'

'No, Madam,' Ranulf replied, whilst Orifab shifted from foot to foot. 'We are king's men.'

The woman stepped back so quickly Corbett thought she was going to flee.

'There's no need for any alarm,' Corbett said. 'I couldn't give a damn what you do here. But, apparently, Master Orifab wishes us to meet someone.'

'Rohesia,' the goldsmith whispered. 'They wish to meet Rohesia. Mistress Quickly, I suggest you allow them to.'

He went up and whispered in the Mistress Quickly's ear. She threw one fearful look at Corbett and hastily left the room. A few minutes later she returned, accompanied by a tall, beautiful young woman. The newcomer wore a green taffeta dress, and her corn-coloured hair was covered by a wimple of the same colour, bordered at the edge with gold thread. Jewellery sparkled from her fingers and there were gold and silver bangles on her wrists. The tight-fitting dress emphasized her ample bosom and her slender waist. She looked as innocent and gentle as a young fawn. Corbett thanked God that Maeve would never know about this part of his mission.

'You wish to see me, Master?'

'By yourself.'

Mistress Quickly and Orifab hastily left the room. Ranulf closed the door behind them. Corbett waved the young woman to a seat.

'You are called Rohesia?'

'Yes, I am.'

'Do you know who I am?'

'No. Mistress Quickly didn't tell me.'

'I am Sir Hugh Corbett and I am here on the king's business. I come from Hunstanton. I want to know why you left considerable monies with the goldsmith Orifab for Robert the reeve from that village?'

The change in the young woman was remarkable. Her eyes became hard and unblinking, the generous lips became a thin, angry line and the golden hue of her face quickly dimmed.

'That is none of your business, sir.'

'It will go badly with you if you do not answer. Why did you leave money for Robert the Reeve?'

'A customer asked me to.'

Corbett rubbed his chin and stared long at her.

'I think you'd best come back with me,' he said quietly. 'Come back to Hunstanton.' He saw the tears glisten in the girl's eyes. 'I also bring.you bad news. Marina has been murdered.'

Rohesia moaned as if in pain. She put her face in her hands and began to sob uncontrollably.