The Boy-Bishop's Glovemaker (35 page)

‘A good point. Now, Gervase,’ Baldwin said, turning to the Succentor. ‘You say you saw the cook eat a whole ladle of this pottage?’

‘
Two
ladles. He insisted that his food was wholesome, and from the way he swallowed it with no ill-effects, I have to believe him.’

‘Yes, except this fellow Adam vomited almost immediately.’

‘As I heard Stephen say, he had almost finished his bowl of food,’ Gervase said hesitantly.

His doubting tone made Baldwin give him an expectant look. ‘Yes?’

‘That is remarkably fast for a poison, not that my experience is particularly extensive, but I have a little knowledge about the subject.’ Gervase explained about his time in Oxford.

‘And that means?’

‘I think it means he ate a very large dose of poison – so large that little was absorbed. It sometimes happens that too much poison will make a man sick, while less would kill.’

Simon had been silent, but now he interrupted their thoughts. ‘The victim accused the boy Luke, you say. Did he say that he actually saw the boy putting poison in his food?’

‘No.’

‘The kitchen is out at the back of the house, but could someone have added some poison to his food between kitchen and hall? Someone other than this Chorister? A Chorister is hardly my idea of an ideal suspect for a poisoning.’

‘It is good of you to try to find another possibility, but I fear the worst. After all, is a cleric of another sort any more likely as a killer?’

Simon nodded to the steward. ‘Was anyone out in the garden when you were bringing the food in from the kitchen?’

‘One of the Secondaries, sir, yes.’

‘Who?’

‘It was the youth who lived near Peter. The one called Jolinde.’

At the door to their inn, Jeanne paused a moment and pointed up the road. ‘Isn’t that Mistress le Berwe?’

Edgar squinted. ‘I believe so, Lady, with a servant. I think she has seen us.’

‘Ah, good,’ said Jeanne, smothering the curse that rose to her lips. She forced a pleasant and welcoming smile to her face. ‘Hawisia, how pleasant to see you. How are you?’

‘Fine, my Lady, very well. I only . . . Have you seen my husband?’

‘Vincent? No, why? Has he disappeared?’

‘He left the house to go and see to a little business and returned for his breakfast, but a short while ago he said he must leave once more. I did wonder whether he might have come here to share a pot of wine with you and your husband.’

She looked so worried that Jeanne waved her inside with only a pang of regret. ‘I have only just returned myself as you can see, but let us go in and see if they are all inside.’

The hall was filled with men and women talking loudly, their faces red and merry from work and drink, but there was no sign of either Vincent or Baldwin, and when they called the host over and asked him, he said: ‘Master Baldwin left first thing this morning with Bailiff Puttock and I’ve seen nothing of either of them since.’

Jeanne smiled gratefully, but when she turned she could see that Hawisia was close to tears. Jeanne waved to Edgar, who correctly interpreted this as a demand for wine and disappeared. Seeing that Jeanne and Hawisia might wish for privacy, he took Hawisia’s servant with him.

‘Come, dear, tell me what’s the matter,’ Jeanne said soothingly.

Hawisia put a hand on Jeanne’s forearm as the two sat on a bench. ‘I am pregnant again.’

‘Then I will pray for a healthy child,’ Jeanne suggested with a smile.

‘My husband already has a child.’

‘Men are not so abstinent as their wives,’ Jeanne said warily. She wasn’t sure where this was leading.

‘But I fear his son Jolinde will be the cause of sore distress to him,’ Hawisia said, and she began to sniff as the tears started to run.

Jeanne had listened to enough of Baldwin’s and Simon’s conversations to know of whom Hawisia spoke. Now she sat silently while Hawisia wept, letting the silence draw the younger woman out.

At last Hawisia blinked to clear her eyes and wiped her face on her sleeve. ‘I am sorry. I must seem the veriest fool to behave like this, but I have been worrying for an age now.’

Jeanne nodded sympathetically, but she could not like Hawisia and she inwardly cringed at the thought that this young woman should have sought her out as a confidante. ‘What do you fear?’ she asked.

‘That my husband’s son should be found to be the murderer. You must know that Nick Karvinel and Vincent have no affection for each other. They are not friends, they are competitors. And Peter was his clerk. If Jolinde thought that Peter had done anything for Karvinel that could have hurt my husband, I fear . . . I truly fear—’

‘That your stepson could have killed Peter?’

Hawisia sniffed and nodded wretchedly.

Simon and Baldwin strode over the precinct alone. Gervase had left them at the door to the infirmary, saying that he must visit Adam and try to comfort him. When he opened the door, Simon saw the miserable Secondary gripping his belly and spitting a slimy dribble into a pot. Simon had seen the effects of such treatment before and had no desire to witness the inevitable result. It was with immense relief that he left the scene and followed his friend to the rooms where Jolinde had lived with Peter.

As they approached the house, Simon saw the large figure of the Coroner appear at the Fissand Gate. He was accompanied by the City Bailiff, to whom he bade farewell at the gate before coming over to join Simon and Baldwin. ‘The City Bailiff told me,’ he said simply. ‘You think it was Jolinde too?’

‘Possibly he can help us,’ Baldwin said. ‘He was out near the Canon’s house when the food was brought in.’

‘Let’s see what the bastard has to say this time.’

The door was opened almost immediately when Coroner Roger beat upon it, and Jolinde looked from one to the other with surprise. ‘What is it?’

Coroner Roger shoved the door wide. ‘We’re hoping you can help us—’

He stopped and Simon soon saw what had caused his astonishment.

The room was a mess. The plaster had been hacked from the walls in long sweeps following irregular lines; the floor had been dug up in places, and the perpetrator of the destruction was the shamefaced Secondary before them. That much was obvious from his feeble attempt at a grin as the three men took in the state of the place.

Baldwin walked quietly over to a stool and sat as if unaware of the devastation about him. ‘Jolinde, you have been accused of putting poison in Adam’s food. He has collapsed.’

‘Me?’ Jolinde stared uncomprehendingly ‘What on earth . . .’

‘What happened to the orpiment you bought from the apothecary?’

‘Orpiment? I was asked to fetch some by the Succentor for his students, but I gave it all to him.’

‘I see. You were driving the wagon which killed Ralph the glover’s wife and child, weren’t you?’

Jolinde covered his face in his hands. ‘It was a long time ago. Surely I can be permitted to forget an accident so long ago?’

‘Did she remind you of Vincent le Berwe’s first wife?’

‘Mistress Glover? No, not really. Why?’ Jolinde’s face was too surprised for him to be acting.

Baldwin returned to Adam’s poisoning. ‘You were seen out between Stephen’s house and the kitchen.’

‘Yes, I was there, but I never approached any of the staff. I was walking, thinking.’

Baldwin glanced about him. ‘Yes, so I see. And you didn’t find it?’

‘Find what?’ Jolinde asked, but he shuddered as if from fatigue and fear.

Baldwin walked to the wall and studied a long gash in the plasterwork. Shaking his head, he smiled sympathetically. ‘It’s not here, Jolinde.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘The money that you stole from Ralph the Glover. It isn’t here.’

There was a short gasp and Jolinde staggered as if about to collapse, but then he recovered and took a deep breath. ‘Me? Steal?’

‘Coroner, it was an almost embarrassingly easy crime. For the two Secondaries it was simplicity itself,’ Baldwin explained. ‘Two youngsters, one of whom I daresay was led on by the other. Jolinde here had no need of money, but neither he nor his friend were likely to progress far here. They both had need of new careers and hit upon a daring means of winning the initial purse to set them on their way. They were asked to deliver jewels and money to Ralph, and both dutifully went to his shop and gave them to him. Except they cheated the man, counting upon his trust in two men of the cloth. They had already taken some of the choicest jewels from the container and when they counted the pieces with Ralph, they counted the remaining ones and asked him to sign the receipt. He was trusting and did so, putting his mark and seal on the receipt. The original numbers were there in front of him, upon the paper, but because Ralph couldn’t read or write, the simple fraud went unnoticed.’

‘You mean he signed for more than he’d received?’ the Coroner rasped. He scowled at the Secondary. It was hardly a new crime, but the Coroner found it disgusting. Relying on the trust of other men to deceive them was the lowest behaviour. At least a robber dared his own safety when he attacked to steal a man’s money.

Baldwin continued quietly, still holding the Secondary with his stern gaze. ‘Yes – and they pocketed the difference. Most merchants would not have been so trusting, but Ralph? He was pious, was he not? He believed in the integrity of other men, especially those who came from the Cathedral Close.’

Jolinde fell upon his knees. ‘Sir, do not blame Peter. It was none of it his idea. It was all mine. Peter wanted to earn enough to be able to go and learn what he could at University, but he didn’t want to do that at the expense of anyone else. I wanted to prove I was clever enough to steal and make my own way. I don’t know. I know it was foolish, but I . . .’

‘You intentionally stole the jewels and money from Ralph, didn’t you?’ Baldwin said.

Simon shot him a look. He was used to Baldwin being confrontational, occasionally brutal, but rarely so gentle, so calm and soothing.

Jolinde covered his face again. ‘I did. Peter was unhappy about the scheme except I dared him and offered a gamble to tease him. I have money from my father every so often and Peter had none. It was easy to get him to agree.’

‘Tell us what happened, Jolly,’ Baldwin said.

Coroner Roger opened his mouth to tell the Secondary what he thought of him, but as he drew breath he saw Baldwin give him a sharp look and shake of his head. The Coroner was at first irritated to be commanded, but he decided to give the knight the benefit of the doubt. Clearly Sir Baldwin thought there was something more to be learned. Roger haughtily pulled his cloak about him and sank onto a small three-legged stool.

Jolinde hung his head and stared at the ground. ‘You are right. I didn’t need the money. I will be all right because my father is Vincent le Berwe and as his only heir I am secure, but poor Peter wasn’t. He had nothing – no money and no patron, only the pittance he earned from clerking. Still, he would never have thought of stealing from anyone. Peter was always decent. He would no more have thought of stealing than he would of murdering. Yet he wanted desperately to go to University.’

Jolinde broke off and stared at his hands, shaking his head. ‘The morning that we were to deliver the jewels and money to Ralph back in the first week of December, I teased Peter all the way to the Treasury to collect them, pointing out that he was too honest for his own good. If he didn’t learn to relax in front of other people, he’d end up without any possibility of a patron. No one liked a dullard.’

‘Then you pushed him into a challenge that you could fool Ralph?’ Baldwin asked gently.

‘More or less, yes. I bet him that I could take money from Ralph without the glover noticing. Peter refused to accept the bet at first so I told him he was a coward and he would never get himself a patron.’

‘I kept on at him all the way, and then as we waited at Ralph’s door, I said he’d never be able to become a Vicar or Deacon unless he was prepared to take risks. And if he wasn’t even prepared to try this for a laugh, what chance was there for him.’ Jolinde blinked hard as if to keep the tears at bay, and looked up to meet Baldwin’s eye. ‘It was all my fault, Sir Baldwin. I cannot allow Peter to take the blame just because he is dead.

‘We entered and Ralph welcomed us gladly, as he always did. I felt bad, but I wanted the money. We counted out the jewels and money in front of him and then wrote the numbers on a receipt as if they were the same – but they weren’t. We wrote down the quantities which the Treasury had given us. Ralph trusted us and put his mark alongside.

‘Afterwards we went to a tavern. Peter had been silent in Ralph’s shop but in the tavern he asked how I was going to get the money back to Ralph. I . . . I laughed.’

‘You never intended giving the money back?’ Baldwin asked.

Jolinde had flushed and now he shivered. ‘No. Once we had it, it seemed stupid to think of going back to return it.’

‘I see,’ Baldwin said slowly. He was staring up at the ceiling now, but he gave a gesture indicating Jolinde should continue.

Behind Baldwin, Simon watched Jolinde with interest. It was rare to be given so detailed a confession. Naturally it was due to the fact that Jolinde felt safe – he was protected by Canon Law and would not be hanged for his theft as a common man would. Yet something rang false about his narrative. Simon moved so that he could see Jolinde’s face more clearly.

Jolinde continued, ‘Peter was quite furious. He called me all sorts of names, saying I’d persuaded him to be my accomplice and swore that he’d never touch a penny piece taken from the glover. I passed him my purse, into which I had put all the money and jewels, and told him to take them back. I was confident he wouldn’t, though.’

‘Why?’ Simon snapped.

Jolinde faced him with an expression of faint surprise. ‘Because that would be confessing to theft. How could Peter ever hope to persuade the Bishop to support him in University if he admitted to stealing? As soon as the Dean and Chapter got to hear he’d be out. Even if he wasn’t thrown from the Cathedral, he would hardly be looked at for promotion. No, his only chance lay in keeping his mouth shut. And trusting me to do the same.’