Murder for Christ's Mass (27 page)

Again, the child was positive in her response. “’Tweren’t no sounds at all, not voices nor nuthin’ else.”

“And you saw only those three men; no one else came through the gate or up the road to the quarry?”

Again, the beggar child gave a definite “no” to his question.

Bascot felt his mind whirl. As he had thought, there had been a third man in the quarry that night and it had been Cerlo. But if the child’s tale was to be believed—and he thought it was—the mason could not have killed Brand for, according to Mary, he did not appear to have spoken to the clerk, or even been aware of his presence by the shack. That left only Fardein. He had already been behind the shed when Brand walked over there and, since the clerk never appeared again, it must have been the apprentice who killed him. Instead of being a witness to the crime, as the Templar had thought, Fardein had committed it.

Whether his motive had been fear of discovery or greed, Fardein had used the cudgel found amongst his belongings to hit the clerk over the head and then used his knife to administer the deathblow. Once Brand was dead, it would be the work of a moment to remove the clerk’s scrip and push his lifeless body over the edge of the cliff face. Had that been when Cerlo appeared?

It must have been the mason that Brand had come to meet, but Cerlo had been delayed by the need to attend to the burns on his wife’s hand and arm. When he finally arrived, he had waited atop the cliff face in vain, for by that time the clerk was either unconscious or dead. But what had been the purpose of their assignation? The two were unlikely associates—one an educated clerk and the other a man who laboured with his hands. Did their connection with each other involve, as the sheriff believed, the discovery of a trove?

And who, in turn, had murdered Fardein? Had it been Cerlo, or was there yet someone else involved, someone who had not come to the quarry but had known the secret the mason and the clerk shared; someone such as Tasser?

The myriad of unanswered questions chased one after another in the Templar’s mind until he realised that Mary was watching him with anxious eyes, fearful that the tale she had told was not enough to merit the two pennies the knight had promised.

Bascot gave the destitute child, who was shivering with cold, a reassuring nod and handed her the coins. “Your words have helped me greatly, Mary,” he said.

“So much so that you deserve a greater reward.” Pulling off his cloak, he bundled it up and handed it to her.

“That should keep you and your brother warm at night until the milder days of spring arrive,” he said gently.

Mary’s eyes grew round with wonder as her fingers touched the heavy material. Lovingly she stroked it with her thin hand as though she could not believe it was real. She did not say a word of thanks, but Bascot did not need any. The look of joy that flooded her face was reward enough.

Twenty-seven

BASCOT RESISTED THE TEMPTATION TO RETURN TO THE quarry and confront Cerlo. Before he did that, he needed to think through what he had learned. Reining his mount to slowness, he rode back through the gate in the city wall and entered the grounds of the Minster.

There were more people about now than there had been earlier. A queue of people was seeking admittance to the Priory of All Saints to obtain remedies from the monks in the infirmary for a variety of winter ailments. And, around the perimeter of the grounds, customers patronised stalls selling hot roasted chestnuts and thin wine. Among the throng were quite a few clerics, a complex mixture of priests, monks, vicars and secondaries, all hastening in and out of the cathedral as they carried out the duties entailed in their service to God.

At a corner on the western front of the church, some sixty or seventy feet above the ground, ladders had been set up and two workmen were atop them inspecting the spot where the water troughs along the eaves debouched into the garish face of a gargoyle. One of the workers was pushing a metal pole into the mouth of the carved-stone face, trying to dislodge debris that was blocking the gutter. Even though the ladders were sturdy—short lengths securely tied, one to another, and supported in the middle by scaffolding—it was not a task for the fainthearted. The Templar admired the seeming nonchalance of the men perched on the roof, both of them standing easily atop the great height as they went about their task.

As Bascot rode along a path in front of the church, he tried to sort the known facts into a logical order, using reasonable supposition as a guide. Brand had taken expensive old-fashioned jewellery to Tasser and sold it to the silversmith. Fardein had known of the sale and followed the clerk, probably hoping to learn if Brand was in possession of more valuables. In the course of doing so, the apprentice had followed the clerk to the quarry and subsequently killed him. It might have been to prevent Brand from finding him lurking nearby, but it could just as easily have been for the contents of the clerk’s pouch. If Brand’s scrip had contained silver pennies from King Stephen’s reign identical to the one Gianni had found, it would have been reasonable for Fardein to guess the coins were part of a trove. But, once Brand was dead, the apprentice had no way to determine the cache’s whereabouts. His only recourse was to try to gain that information from whomever the clerk was meeting.

According to the tale Mary had told, Fardein had stayed by the shack as Cerlo—if it was he—had come to keep his appointment with Brand. As the apprentice had been much nearer to the mason than the beggar child, Fardein had likely been able to identify him. Had Fardein’s suspicion of an unreported trove prompted him to confront the mason and try to coerce Cerlo into parting with some of the hidden wealth? If so, had Cerlo then killed Fardein to keep the secret safe?

Bascot recalled the lump hammer the stonecutter in the workshop had been using. There had been an iron cap fitted over one end and, as the image of it flashed across the Templar’s mind, he realised that the hammer, used as a weapon, could easily have caused the indentation he had found on the back of Fardein’s head. And the ragged wound left by the implement that had stabbed the apprentice in the heart—it, too, could have been made by one of the implements that were part of a stone worker’s trade, such as a punch or straight chisel. Both would be clumsier to use than the knife found among Fardein’s belongings, but just as effective, for the ends of a mason’s chisel became razor sharp from constant contact with stone surfaces. In the hands of a man accustomed to work with such tools, they could be wielded with deadly efficiency.

Bascot recalled Cerlo’s emotional outrage at being unable to prevent Brand’s death. If the mason had discovered it was Fardein who murdered the clerk, it was quite possible he had meted out what seemed to him a justifiable retribution. Killing the apprentice in the same manner as Brand—by a blow to the head and a fatal thrust to the heart—would have achieved his revenge. But if all of this was so, the root cause had been Cerlo’s collusion with Brand in the discovery of a trove. Where had they found it?

Bascot remembered the master builder, Alexander, saying he had given Cerlo permission to carry out small jobs around the town to earn extra money. Then the Templar recalled de Stow mentioning how the mint had needed repairs to one of the outside walls. Had Cerlo done the work? Had the mason, while carrying out the repair, discovered a cache hidden there by a moneyer during the turbulent times of King Stephen’s reign? And had Cerlo then confided in Brand, perhaps prompted by hearing the employees at the mint mention the clerk was desperate for money to wed his sweetheart? Did the two of them subsequently conspire to keep the contents of the cache for their own gain? It would explain the excitement the guard had noticed in Brand’s behaviour in the days before his death and also the unlikely acquaintanceship between the clerk and Cerlo. The reason Brand had gone to the quarry that night could have been to give the mason his share of the treasure.

Bascot reined in the grey. The scenario seemed a reasonable one—Fardein had killed Brand and Cerlo, in turn, had killed Fardein—and both murders had been committed because of the need to conceal the discovery of a trove. But unless he found some evidence, there was no way to prove the mason’s complicity, or discover the whereabouts of the treasure.

The Templar got down from his mount and tied the horse to an iron hitching ring near the cathedral entrance. Before he gave any credence to his theory he must find out if Cerlo had ever done any work at the mint. It might be that Alexander would have the information in his records.

The Templar found the builder in the same room as on his previous visit, poring over a list of supplies. When Bascot asked him if he had a record of the jobs Cerlo had been allowed to do outside of the cathedral, Alexander looked surprised at the question but nodded in reply.

“He used materials from the cathedral store, as well as church transport to carry them, so I kept a record in order to dock his wages for the cost.” The builder went over to the shelves where he kept his records and extracted a small piece of parchment. “Cerlo’s eyes began to fail last summer, so it was only after that time I allowed him to accept commissions for outside work,” he said. “The first, I believe, was about the beginning of September and should be detailed on this list, which is a record of outside expenses for the last six months.”

Unrolling the parchment, he scanned the contents and then said, “I was right. Cerlo fixed a loose stone in the oven of a baker on the fifth day of September.” He paused and looked up at Bascot. “Do you wish the baker’s name?”

When Bascot told him he did not, Alexander went on. “Then, in October, he repaired some steps on the guild hall. He did not do any more work until November, when he did some renovation work on a wall at the rear of the mint. Shortly after that he did a job in a suburb just south of Lincoln. . . .”

Bascot checked Alexander’s precise tones. “Did you say Cerlo repaired a wall in the mint?”

Alexander looked mildly affronted at being stopped in the midst of his recitation, but answered the question all the same. “Yes. It was the rear wall, the one that surrounds the moneyer’s forge. I do not know the precise nature of the repair, but I have a list of the materials Cerlo used, if you wish them. . . .”

Bascot cut the builder short as he began to read out the amount of sand and lime the mason had used to make mortar and the length of time it had taken for the mule and cart to haul the supplies, gave Alexander his thanks and hurriedly took his leave. As the builder watched him go with a puzzled expression on his face, Bascot sent up a prayer of thanks to God for giving Alexander the gift of meticulous record keeping. Leaving the cathedral, he untied the grey from the hitching post and got into the saddle. He now had enough evidence for the sheriff to order Cerlo’s arrest. Once he had Camville’s warrant, he would bring the mason to the castle gaol for questioning.

 

 

 

THE TEMPLAR FOUND GERARD CAMVILLE IN THE mews, a large building situated next to the castle herb garden. It was fitted with several shallow casements to give the birds a comfortable amount of light. Nicolaa de la Haye and Gilbert Bassett were with the sheriff, engaged in conversation with the head falconer about which birds to take on a large hawking party planned for the last day of the baron’s visit. The air in the chamber was redolent of droppings and the air slightly dusty with floating feathers. There were about twenty birds tethered to perches along a central aisle and, as the two barons and Nicolaa walked along the open space behind the falconer, the raptors stirred restlessly and swivelled their heads from side to side, regarding the humans curiously with their bright, aggressive eyes.

When Bascot entered the mews all the heads, both human and avian, turned in his direction. Gerard Camville noted the look of urgency on Bascot’s face and dismissed the falconer, telling him to take himself outside and wait there until he was recalled.

Once the falconer left, Bascot told the sheriff of the three men the young beggar child had seen, and their movements.

“I believe it was Cerlo that Peter Brand went to meet in the quarry that night and Fardein followed him there. The mason was delayed in keeping his appointment with the clerk and, while Brand was waiting, Fardein killed and robbed him. When Cerlo came, Fardein must still have been lurking behind the shed and the mason didn’t see him, or Brand’s body, which could have been on the quarry floor by that time. The beggar child said the man with the lantern just stood atop the cliff face—presumably waiting for Brand—and then left. Fardein must have seen, and recognised, the mason, from his hiding place.

“I think it more than likely that Brand’s purse contained money from King Stephen’s reign and when Fardein—knowledgeable about coins from his work in Tasser’s manufactory—later examined the contents of the purse he realised, just as you did, Sir Gerard, that they must have come from a treasure trove. This notion would have been reinforced by the age of the jewellery Brand took to Tasser to sell. Since Fardein had already killed for profit, it indicates he was a greedy and unscrupulous man. I think he surmised there might be more coins or valuables to be had and approached Cerlo and demanded a share, perhaps threatening to reveal what he knew if Cerlo refused to comply.