The Holy Innocents
- Автор: Sedley Kate
- Серия: Roger the Chapman #4
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Canelo
- ISBN: 9781800326026
- Жанр: Исторические детективы
Электронная книга - «The Holy Innocents». Краткое содержание книги:
A town paralysed with fear, two children gone missing. Roger’s most difficult case yet…
April, 1475. As Roger approaches the thriving village of Totnes, danger crackles in the air. A pack of cutthroats wanders the forest after a night of pillaging, and Roger barely manages to hide from them in the brush.
He soon learns that the marauding band has been terrorizing the countryside for weeks. And worse, they are believed to be responsible for the disappearance of two village children.
But how did the children get out of the house unnoticed in broad daylight? And would the outlaws really kill just for the sake of killing? Roger cannot rest – or rule out the possibility of more violence – until he solves the puzzle.
‘But you were here, on duty yesterevening? And you know him?’
The porter, a lay brother, wrinkled his nose and nodded.
‘Yes on both counts. And indeed, I’ve always found Master Color a pleasant enough gentleman, whatever others in this town might tell you different. I’ve spent an evening or two in his company, at Matt’s tavern or the castle ale-house. Mostly he kept to himself, but I’ve known him when he’s been drink-taken, and then he could make a man laugh at his antics. He was never drunk, you understand,’ the porter hastened to add, ‘but on occasions, the ale loosened his tongue a little.’
‘What sort of antics?’ I asked, frowning.
The porter shrugged. ‘He could sing a bit. Ballads, ditties. Quite a few of ’era, the funniest ones, not fit for a lady’s ears, I can tell you. And once, when a strolling flute-player came visiting Matt’s, Master Colet took the instrument from him and played it well enough. He could caper a few steps, too, when the mood was on him. But, as I say, for the most part he was quiet and sober as befitted the husband of Rosamund Crouchback. Now, there was a woman with a fine notion of her own importance. She was always the same from girlhood, though, ruined by her father’s indulgence. I wouldn’t have been a servant or a poor kinsman in that house, not if they’d offered me a free barrel of the best malmsey wine every day for the rest of my life.’
I spared a smile for what seemed to be the porter’s idea of paradise, but was too wrapped up in my thoughts to pay him any further attention. I bade him good-day, continuing my climb towards the pillory on the brow of High Street. I had much to mull over. In the past hour, I had learned that Eudo Colet had spent the night within the town walls, that he had not stayed at the Priory, and that he had sufficiently sweet a voice to entertain fellow ale-house guests without giving them cause to complain of his singing. I supposed it just possible that he had sought out lodgings other than at St Mary’s, but somehow I could not bring myself to believe it. He had entered the East Gate on foot and walked up High Street under cover of the encroaching darkness. Then, he had kept watch on the house until my visit to the castle tavern had offered him the chance to slip along the alleyway and unlock the gate into the outer courtyard. But even had I remained within doors all evening, he must have been able, at sometime or another, to let himself in without being noticed. He had keys to all the locks, and the peculiarity of the Totnes houses made it possible to be in one part of the building without having any idea of what was happening in the other, separated as they were by that inner courtyard.
What Master Colet did next was conjecture on my part, but of sufficient likelihood to make it seem that I had watched him do it. He had taken a knife from the kitchen and hacked through the stay of the gallery, a structure he knew to be already weakened by neglect and decay, he had then returned to the loft to wait until the small, chill hours of early morning, when he had crossed the gallery, treading lightly and with the utmost care, to lure me from my bed with his singing…
But it had been a child’s voice, not a man’s, which had sung those poignant words, a voice which had sometimes been close at hand, and at others, far away. Was it possible that Eudo Colet had not been alone? And if not, who had been with him? I cursed silently to myself. It seemed that as soon as one door opened upon daylight, another closed, leaving me once again floundering in the dark.
I was so engrossed by my thoughts that I traversed the busy market-place and shambles, weaving my way between the throngs of townspeople, without really being aware of anyone. I did not even feel the hand laid upon my arm until the fingers nipped me.
‘Master Chapman,’ said a voice at my elbow, ‘why do you not have your pack with you? I was hoping to buy some ribbon.’
I turned what I’m sure must have been a sleepwalker’s face towards my indignant questioner, to find myself accosted by the child, Ursula Cozin, attended by the faithful Jenny. The grey eyes which regarded me were the same colour as her father’s, but there the similarity ended. Whereas Thomas Cozin’s gaze was calm and a little diffident, his youngest daughter’s was pert and provocative, and the plump features, snub nose and pouting, pretty mouth were all her mother’s.
‘I… I’m sorry,’ I stammered, ‘but my wares are not for sale today.’ I sought desperately for some further topic of conversation, which seemed to be expected of me. ‘Is… Is Mistress Cozin still pleased with the length of silk she purchased?’
‘Oh yes.’ The eyes sparkled with affectionate laughter. ‘Mother’s very vain, you know, and she adores new finery. She even brought it out to show Master Colet, yesterevening.’
‘M-Master Colet?’ I gibbered like an idiot, and Ursula stared at me in some astonishment. ‘Master Colet called on your family last evening?’
The head was tilted consideringly to one side. ‘Indeed. He came to see my uncle on business.’
‘Did… Did he stay long?’
A gurgle of laughter escaped my young lady. ‘I’m glad to know that there’s someone else as nosey as I am. My parents call it my besetting sin, but I say it’s just natural curiosity. How am I to know what’s going on in this town if I don’t ask questions concerning my neighbours? If you really want to know, Master Colet stayed for the night. My father pressed him to do so as curfew had sounded, and he considers it unsafe at present for anyone to walk abroad after sunset. He sent to a neighbour for the loan of a truckle bed, as my uncle is using ours during his visit, and it was put up for Master Colet in the downstairs parlour because he had to leave very early this morning, and so could let himself out without disturbing anyone.’
Within the hour, I found myself confronting yet another of the Cozin household, this time, Master Oliver. And with him came Grizelda.
I had returned to the house after my encounter with the child, Ursula, dazed and confused by this brutal shattering of all my notions. Eudo Colet had spent the night with the Cozins, his movements accounted for by respectable people.
But who, then, had been my nocturnal visitor? I had thought and thought about it, my mind going round in circles, my aching head clutched in my hands, until I suddenly discovered that I no longer cared. By the time Lawyer Cozin presented himself at the door to inform me that my tenure of the house was no longer necessary, I could have shouted aloud with joy and willingly embraced him.
‘Mistress Harbourne, whose holding was razed to the ground last night by the outlaws, has obtained permission from Master Colet to lodge in her old home until she is able to settle her affairs to her greater satisfaction. I believe,’ the lawyer added austerely, ‘that you already know Mistress Harbourne and have no need of my introduction.’ Grizelda smiled and stepped past him into the passageway.
‘Eudo has agreed, albeit with very bad grace, to my tenancy. It suits his purpose as well as mine, otherwise I think he would have been less inclined to oblige me. But my being here will allow you to be on your way, which you must surely wish for soon, whilst I can remain until a more permanent occupant is found for the house.’
The lawyer nodded briskly in agreement. ‘Mistress Harbourne is right. I thank you for your good offices, chapman, but you may now take your leave with a clear conscience. You are absolved from your promise to remain as custodian until Saturday.’
He inclined his head and turned away. I wondered whether or not to mention the broken gallery, but decided against it.
It would involve an explanation of my clumsiness which I was not prepared to give at present, and, possibly, recriminations. He might even demand that I pay for its mending.
So I watched him go in silence. But as soon as he had vanished from sight, I turned to Grizelda.