J. Tomlin - The Intelligencer

Morning light was shinging in Law's eyes when he awoke. He rolled away from the light and remembered where he had seen that face before. The man had been standing with Una at the inquest. Going to the inquest of a man you had murdered took nerve that Law could barely imagine, but that had to be what had happened. He groaned and forced himself to rise from his cot.

Every move ached when he made his way down the stairs. He sat at his favorite bench near the hearth and leaned his elbows on the table.

Wulle crossed his arms and said, "I telt you it was a glaikit plan. And then a murderer came in our tavern."

"I give you my oath, it will nae happen again."

Just then Anny appeared in the doorway. "Do you hear the drums? There's a procession coming on High Street!" She was bouncing with excitement.

Cormac appeared behind her, looking dour. "I think it's the king." He gave Law a narrow-eyed look.

Law sighed. He'd killed the murderer, and now everyone looked at him as though it was his fault.

Anny tugged her father's sleeve. "Hurry. I want to see the king."

"You've seen him before, lass."

"But the ladies may be with him. I have to see their clothes." She gave him a beseeching look. "Please, Da."

Mall gave one of the tables a swipe with a cloth. "Och, we'll all go." She made a shooing motion to the sole customer drinking at one of the tables, for the early morning flurry of business was past. "It will nae hurt to close for a few minutes, and I like to look at the ladies myself."

She gave Law a stern look. He decided this was a bad day to argue, so he followed as Anny walked between her mother and father, chattering about what the queen might wear if she was riding in the procession.

By the time they reached High Street, the drummers and trumpeters all clad in the royal livery were passing. A richly dressed cavalcade followed with their silks and velvets glowing in the morning sunshine, jewels on fingers and hats flashing like fire. The people of Perth were accustomed to the royal court's comings and goings, but it still made a good show, so they lined the street. Dogs dashed alongside, barking. The drums and trumpets paused for a moment and then blared an even louder cacophony. From farther down the street, Law heard shouts of "God save the king! God save the king!"

The trumpeters had passed beyond sight when the king reached the opening to the vennel where Cullen's tavern stood. Mall dropped into an awkward curtsy, which her daughter copied. Wulle pulled off his bonnet and waved it in the air, joining in the shouting. They all recognized the still-handsome middle-aged man with his auburn hair and striking eyes in the center of the group. Beside him rode Queen Joan in a shimmering blue silk gown trimmed with pearls that had Mall and Anny gawking.

"There's Bishop Cameron," Cormac muttered.

The bishop glanced their way, and his gaze caught Law's for a moment. "Aye, I see him," Law said. He had a feeling the bishop would not be happy with the news that the mysterious letter was still missing.

Wulle pointed. "There's the earl of Angus."

"Is that the Earl of Douglas?" Mall asked.

"Aye. That is him." Law was not likely to forget the earl who had rejected his service although he had served the late earl faithfully.

Anny was too busy oohing and aahing over the gowns of the queen's ladies-in-waiting and pointing them out to her mother to bother with any of the others.

"Who is that?" Wulle asked about a tall man, dark-haired, blue-jowled, and tonsured.

"I think that's the abbot of Holyrood. He's a Wotherspoon. They're cousins of the Angus, I believe."

The procession clattered on with more blasts of the trumpets and beating of drums. "They'll turn and go to Blackfriars," Wulle said as the last of the cavalcade finally passed. "We're losing business standing about." Now the sound of shouts and blares of the trumpets was distant as the cavalcade turned onto Watergate Street.

"And before the sheriff drags me in to ask why I haven't found that letter, I had better find it."

Cormac tilted his head. "You were lying that you had it. But you have figured out ken where it is, aye?"

Law waved to his landlords as they turned and headed for the tavern. "I have a good idea, and I should have seen it before." He lowered his voice. "Blacader was demanding more money of whoever Matt worked for. He could nae expect for Matt to have the money with him, so there was nae reason he would have taken the letter to Una's tavern. The only place safe enough to hide it was at his own house."

"But you searched there."

"Not well enow." He smiled beguilingly at Cormac. "Come help me search. It must be there somewhere."

The minstrel gave him an unhappy look. "No one will be stabbed?"

"I swear we'll just search, but I could use your help. It will take tapping every board and testing every stone. But there must be a hiding place yon somewhere."

Cormac was pensive as they followed the distant sounds of the king's progress but then turned in the opposite direction on Watergate Street. At last he said, "It has to be somewhere he could reach easily. You said he was home a short time that day."

"True. They said he changed his clothes and was only in the house a few minutes. But no one saw exactly what he did."

When they walked through the gate of Blacader's yard, young Tam scurried across the yard to greet them. "Have you news?"

Law patted his shoulder. "The man who killed your father is dead."

The young man stood stock-still, his mouth hanging slightly open. His face paled and then flushed with color. "Then it is all over."

"Only partly. We have nae found what it was they killed him for, and I fear…" He motioned toward the house. "Is your mother here as well?"

"Aye, come in. Both of you." He led the way into the house.

Law thought that Widow Blacader had aged in the short time since her husband was murdered. The lines around her mouth were deeper and her expression even bleaker than before.

"What have you found?" she asked, her voice harsh.

"What we have nae found is the letter that Maister Blacader carried from Glasgow, though we found the man who gave it to him to carry. And last night, the killer attacked me and died."

"You killed him?" she asked.

Law shrugged a shoulder. "It was more an accident of his own doing. He fell trying to break into the tavern, thinking I had the letter he sought."

"You said you did nae, though." Tam gave him a puzzled look.

"It has to be in the house somewhere. And if we dinnae find it, I fear whoever sent Matt for it will send someone else. You will only be safe if we find it."

The widow threw up her hands. "I have searched all his clothes and everywhere I could think of. It cannae be here."

"It has to be. I want to sound every board and stone in the house," Law said. "This is the only place he could have hidden it. You said he came in to change his clothes. Were you in the house?"

"I stayed in the barn, expecting to unload the cart," Tam put in.

"I came in and went into the kitchen to unload some spices and supervise Marioun cooking a mite of supper for the men and all." She dropped her face into her hands. "How could he go out and get himself killed? How could he do this to us?"

Tam put his arm around his mother's shoulder and patted her. "Come help me talk to Andy about our trip to Edinburgh. It will be the first time I've gone, and I need your help."

"But I dinnae want them searching the house without me watching," she wailed.

"They'll be fine, Mam. I need you to help me."

"And whatever it is he hid, it's best you dinnae see it. You dinnae want to ken anything about it."

She looked at her son and then studied Law for a long moment. "Aye. Take it away with you, whatever it is." They left, Tam talking in a low voice about making a trip, and closed the door behind them.