C Sansom - Sovereign

‘Listening at the keyhole,’ Barak said. ‘Tried to bite me when I grabbed him, the little weasel.’ He released the boy, giving him a shove that sent him spinning against the opposite wall, then stood with his back to the door. The lad stared between us, his eyes wide.

‘Are you Master Oldroyd’s apprentice?’ I asked.

He gulped. ‘Ay, maister.’

‘We are King’s officials.’ The words made the boy open his terrified eyes even wider. ‘We come from St Mary’s Abbey. What is your name?’

‘P-Paul Green, maister.’

‘You live here?’

‘Ay, sir, with Maister Oldroyd.’

‘Have you been with your master long?’ I asked more gently.

‘Two years. I were ’prenticed at fourteen.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I meant no harm, maister. I came back from fetching the charcoals and heard voices in Maister Oldroyd’s bedroom.’ I saw the boy’s eyes flicker to a spot low down on the wall, just for a moment. ‘I thought it might be robbers, sir.’

‘There’s a sack of charcoal at the foot of the stairs,’ Barak confirmed.

‘Are there no other servants here?’ I asked.

‘Only the cook, sir. She’s gone to try and find some fowl for maister’s supper. There’s a shortage, everything in t’city’s being bought up by King’s purveyors. Maister told me to set up furnace to melt down the monkish glass, but I had to go and get the coals.’ He stared at me, his eyes still full of fear.

‘I have bad news, Green,’ I said gently. ‘I fear your master is dead. He fell from his ladder at St Mary’s into his cart, early this morning.’

The boy went white. He sat on the bed with a thump, his mouth open.

‘Master Oldroyd was good to you?’

‘Ay,’ he whispered. ‘He was. Poor maister.’ He crossed himself.

‘We have been asked by the King’s coroner to investigate his death.’

The boy’s eyes narrowed. ‘Was it not an accident?’

‘That is what we have to find out.’ I looked at him. ‘Had your master any quarrels with anyone, that you know of?’

‘No, maister.’ But there was a hesitation in the boy’s voice, and I saw his eyes start to move to the spot on the wall again, though this time he checked himself.

‘Did you know the names of all your master’s friends and family?’

‘His friends are mostly guildsmen, and them he did business with. He had no family, maister, they all died in the plague. His old apprentice died too, he took me on afterwards.’

‘So you know of none who might have wished him harm?’

‘No, sir.’ Again that slight hesitation.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, sir. I -’

But before the boy could answer there was a bang at the front door, not a knock but a loud crash. We all started, and the boy let out a squeak of fear. Heavy footsteps sounded, some going into the downstairs rooms and the yard and others thundering upstairs. Barak jumped away from the door just before it was thrown open and two guards in the King’s uniform stormed in, swords held at the ready. Barak stood in the centre of the room, his hands raised. The apprentice moaned in terror. The nearest guard looked at us, then smiled wolfishly. ‘Don’t move, any of you,’ he said threateningly, then called downstairs. ‘Sir! There’s three up here, in the bedroom!’

‘What is going on?’ I asked. ‘We are -’

‘Shut up!’ He smiled evilly again. ‘You’re in the shit, you are.’

A moment later Maleverer strode into the room.

SIR WILLIAM GLARED from me to Barak and then at the terrified apprentice. ‘What’s going on?’ he barked.

I managed to keep my voice calm. ‘We are investigating the glazier’s death for the coroner, Sir William, as you instructed. We just arrived; I was questioning the apprentice -’

‘Oh. Yes.’ To my surprise, he seemed to have forgotten his own instructions. ‘Why up here?’

‘He was listening at the door,’ Barak said, nodding at young Green.

Maleverer leaned over and grasped the apprentice by the ear, yanking him to his feet. He stood, plump limbs trembling, as Maleverer glared into his terrified face before turning to me. ‘Well, what have you got out of him?’

‘He says Master Oldroyd had no enemies he knew of.’

‘Does he?’ Maleverer turned back to the boy. ‘What do you know of your master’s affairs, eh? What have you heard listening at doors?’

‘Only about his business, sir, only his business.’

Maleverer grunted, released the boy’s ear and drew a deep breath. ‘I’ve talked with the Duke of Suffolk,’ he said. ‘His instructions are that I should investigate this personally. It seems Oldroyd was crooked in his business dealings with us. It needs looking into.’

‘No, sir,’ the boy said. ‘Not maister -’

He broke off as Maleverer landed him a terrific clout across the face. He fell back across the bed, blood pouring from his mouth and from his cheek where a ring Maleverer wore had cut a gash. Sir William looked at me. ‘I’ll take this little squealing pig back to St Mary’s and see what some questioning can get out of him. Are there any other servants?’

‘A housekeeper, I believe, who is out shopping.’

‘We’ll have her in too.’ He turned to the nearer guard. ‘Get two men and take the boy back to St Mary’s. The rest of you can help me search this place.’ A guard hauled young Green to his feet. He gagged, spat a tooth into his hand, then started weeping in terror and shock. The guard manhandled him out of the room, still bleeding profusely. Sir William turned brusquely to the other guard. ‘Now go down and get that search organized.’

‘What are we looking for, Sir William?’

‘I’ll know when I see it.’ Maleverer watched him go, then glared at me. ‘This matter is out of your hands. Forget about it, understand?’

‘Yes. We-’

‘Out of your hands. And those words you heard Oldroyd say this morning, about the King and about that name -’ he lowered his voice – ‘Blaybourne. You say nothing of that to anybody, do you understand? Have you mentioned it to anyone?’

‘No, Sir William.’

‘Then leave, both of you. Go about your business -’

He was interrupted by the sound of a commotion outside. He turned to the window. Two soldiers could be seen hauling the apprentice up the street. The boy’s legs had given way and they were dragging him along the earth by the arms. He was howling with fear, begging to be let go. The doors of all the neighbouring houses had opened and there was a babble of voices as a crowd, mostly women, came to their doors. Someone called ‘For shame!’ after the soldiers. ‘Southron dogs!’ another shouted. Maleverer set his lips.

‘God’s death, I’ll have them all in gaol!’ He marched furiously out, and a moment later I heard him bawling at the crowd. ‘Be about your business, unless you want taking in for a whipping!’

Barak nudged me. ‘I think we should get out while we can. Let’s go the back way.’

I hesitated, glancing at the spot on the wall the apprentice had looked at, then nodded and followed him downstairs. Another two soldiers were guarding the back gate. I explained we had been there on official business, but had to show my commission before they would let us out. We found ourselves in one of the narrow side-lanes and followed it out to the main street. We walked slowly back towards the Guildhall, both a little shocked by what had happened.

‘Can we get some lunch?’ Barak asked. ‘My stomach feels my throat’s been cut.’

‘Ay.’ I realized I was hungry too; we had had no breakfast. We found a busy inn where we ordered some bread and pottage and sat at a vacant table.

‘What was all that about?’ Barak asked, quietly so our neighbours would not hear.