The Canterbury Murders Read online

  John smiled with satisfaction. “Excellent. In that case, it may be that all is not lost. The English master of the Templars, Amery St. Maur, is a reasonable man and may be willing—if I offer a donation of substantial size to their cause—to grant me a loan of de Marins’ services for a space.”

  Nicolaa heard the king’s suggestion with mixed feelings. The Templar would not be pleased if John’s request was successful; Bascot had no love for the king and would not welcome secondment to his service. But at the same time, it was also true that the Templar’s rare ability would be an asset. She, as much as John, wished the murder solved, for the duty John had assigned her of keeping company with the queen would be impossible to fulfill while Isabella remained in seclusion at Dover, and to pass the season of Christ’s Mass alone, and without a diversion to keep her thoughts away from her family in Lincoln, would be heartbreaking.

  “I shall send a letter to St. Maur without delay,” John pronounced, “and hope he will grant my petition.”

  After a brief discussion of any other steps that could be taken to discover the identity of the murderer, Nicolaa and William Marshal left the king’s presence, the castellan to go to the accommodations that had been provided for her and her entourage on Watling Street, and the earl to return to the cathedral guesthouse.

  After Nicolaa and Marshal had left, John began once again to pace the small chamber, discarding the pretence of self-assurance he had attempted to maintain while in their company. It was imperative that the identity of this murderer be discovered, and speedily, and not only for the reason he had given, but for another, and one much more menacing, that must remain hidden. There was a risk that this security might be breached if the Templar investigated the death, but John had the glimmer of a stratagem that, if the need arose, would circumvent such an eventuality. John was prepared to hazard the chance—having the loan of de Marins’ quick intelligence was an advantage he could not afford to disregard.

  Chapter Five

  The constable of Canterbury castle, Nicholas de Criel, an amiable knight with a genial manner, personally escorted Nicolaa and her small retinue to the townhouse on Watling Street. Although, as John had mentioned, it was of modest proportions, there was ample room to supply comfortable accommodation for herself and her escort, for it included a large storehouse at the rear of the premises where the men-at-arms could lay their pallets.

  As they had ridden through the crowded streets to their destination, Nicolaa’s mind had tumbled over the conversation she had with the king just before leaving the keep and how he had spoken again of his slain servant.

  “Quite apart from the threat implied by her murder,” John had said, “I am sorely grieved at her death. She was a good and faithful servant and I will miss her.” Nicolaa had been surprised to see that John’s eyes were moist as he spoke. “She was the niece of my previous washerwoman, who was also trustworthy,” the king told her. “When her aunt became too elderly to continue her duties, Molly was given the post and has been with me for many years. She could be a bit garrulous at times,” he said fondly, “but, for all that, I knew she was truly loyal. Such devotion is not often found and should be appreciated.” He paused for a moment, and then added, “She had family here, in Canterbury, a sister, I believe, who is married to a tradesman of some sort. I shall ensure she is notified of Molly’s death. It is the least I can do.”

  It was not difficult for Nicolaa to understand why John had placed such a high value on his laundress for she was well aware that, from infancy, he had been surrounded by treachery from within, and without, his family. It was not, therefore, surprising that he would appreciate anyone, even a servant of the lowest standing, in whom he could place his complete trust.

  In the interest of justice, and because it would be to her advantage to have the enquiry into the murder expedited, she had made a suggestion.

  “Sire, I have learned from watching the Templar that it is advisable to examine the corpse and the place where the slaying occurred as quickly as possible to try and discover if the murderer left traces of his identity,” she told him. “Even if the Order gives consent for de Marins to come to your aid, it will be some days before he will arrive. By then vital evidence may be lost. The clerk I brought with me, Gianni, often accompanied the Templar while he carried out enquiries on my behalf, and is familiar with de Marins’ methods. Will you allow him to undertake these initial tasks, and perhaps interview the townhouse staff as well? The information will be useful to whoever is finally given the responsibility of apprehending the culprit, whether it is the Templar or some other. And there is always the chance that Gianni may uncover a vital fact that will enable this mystery to be solved quickly.”

  “Gianni?” John said thoughtfully. “Is he not the servant that the Templar wished to adopt before he decided to rejoin the Order?”

  “The very same, sire,” she replied. “After de Marins left my service, I had the lad trained as a clerk and he has shown great talent, so much so in fact that I brought him with me to Canterbury to act as my secretarius during the visit.”

  Neither of them spoke of the one and only occasion when the king had met Bascot and which she was certain John recalled. Due to Nicolaa mentioning in the king’s presence some three years before that she had tried, and failed, to persuade the Templar to join her retinue on a permanent basis, John, as a favour to her, had tried to tempt him away from his expressed purpose of rejoining the Order. The king had made the generous offer of restoring the fief of the Templar’s dead father to him if he would renounce his vows, and also that he would arrange for Gianni to be made Bascot’s heir. The proffered bribe had caused de Marins much soul-searching as he had tried to choose between his love for the boy and his desire to serve Christ. Finally it had been Gianni himself who, in a flood of self-sacrifice, had convinced his master to follow the dictates of his heart and rejoin the Templars, but Bascot had only done so after Nicolaa had assured him she would place the boy under her personal protection. And she had never been sorry for her agreement to the request. Gianni had proved his worth many times over, and she had come to value him almost as much as the Templar had done.

  “But if I recall correctly, is not the lad a mute?” John had asked with a frown. “How will he be able to question the staff?”

  “I shall send one of my household knights, Miles de Laxton, with him. Miles has some literacy and is intelligent. Gianni can instruct him in the questions that are to be asked by writing them down, and then recording the replies. He and the Templar worked together in just such a fashion.”

  “Very well,” John had said. “It is a step forward, at least, and one that can be taken immediately. Have the lad make a written copy of all the information he gathers and send it to me for scrutiny.”

  Now, as they neared the townhouse, Nicolaa glanced behind her to where Gianni was riding alongside Clare. She knew he would be pleased to hear that the Templar might join them, and would also, she hoped, rise to the challenge she was about to set him. With a wry smile she remembered how, shortly after Bascot had arrived in Lincoln, she had tested the Templar’s mettle in a similar manner and not found him wanting. Indeed, he had greatly surpassed her expectations. It was time to see whether or not Gianni could follow in his former master’s footsteps.

  At the Watling Street townhouse an elderly manservant was waiting for them outside the door, alerted to Nicolaa’s arrival by a man-at-arms that Criel had sent on ahead. As they dismounted, two grooms came running to take their horses, and the manservant, a slightly plump individual with a pleasant smile, came forward and introduced himself as Dauton, steward for the property, and then led her and the rest of the party inside.

  “A fire h
as been lighted in here, lady,” he said, pushing open a door just inside the entryway to show them a small hall containing comfortable chairs and a high-backed settle in front of a capacious fireplace, “and I have ordered heated wine to be brought for your comfort until a meal has been made ready. The main sleeping chamber is above with a small room alongside for your maidservant, and is in readiness for you as soon as should require it. For the knights in your entourage, there are chambers that would be suitable on both the upper and lower floors and all have been aired and laid with clean linen.”

  “It might be best if Miles and I slept on the ground floor, lady,” Gilles suggested. “If this murderer is seeking to harm the king, it might be wise for us to keep guard over your person while you are staying in a house which he might visit. We can alternate in keeping watch at night.”

  “I hope your fear will prove groundless,” Nicolaa replied, “but it is a sensible precaution, nonetheless.” She spoke to Dauton. “Have my knights shown over the premises and accommodate their direction as to sleeping arrangements and the like.”

  The steward nodded and Criel, who had been standing listening to their conversation, now took his leave. “I am at your service, lady,” he said to her. “The castle is not far away. Send for me if you should require my assistance with any matter at all.”

  After the constable left, and Gilles and Miles had gone about their inspection of the rooms, Nicolaa directed Clare to go upstairs and unpack the two small coffers of clothing and personal effects she had brought from Lincoln. She then told Gianni to remain with her. As Dauton hurried away to fetch the promised wine she entered the hall and sank gratefully onto the comfortable padded cushions of the settle, indicating to Gianni that he seat himself on a chair across from her. After the wine had been brought and they were alone, Nicolaa sat for a few moments in contemplation of the lad perched nervously in front of her, a sliver of doubt beginning to assail her. Was Gianni, after all, mature enough to undertake the responsibility she was about to give him? He had often assisted the Templar in previous investigations and she knew that his intelligence was swift, but the leading role she was about to assign him might prove to be too weighty for his young shoulders. She recalled when he had first arrived in Lincoln with de Marins three years before, a malnourished and timorous young lad, in fear of any but the Templar. de Marins had found him begging on a wharf in Palermo as he had made his way back to England from the Holy Land and, to save the child from death by malnutrition, had taken him as his servant, teaching him to read and write as they progressed on the journey. The intervening years of good food and decent shelter had made their impact of the boy’s physical condition. Although he had never grown much in stature—due, perhaps, to a lack of nutrition during the formative years of childhood—he was now of a slim but sturdy build, with a mop of lustrous brown hair and luminous dark eyes. But he was still young. Gianni had not known how old he had been when the Templar found him, but it had been assumed that he was, then, about twelve years of age and, if they were correct in their estimation, would now be in his fifteenth year. She could see the dark shadow of a beard on his cheeks and upper lip where he had recently begun to shave, and although this was a sign of his approaching manhood, it did not signify he would be capable of the task she was about to set him. But she had tested his competence before and not found him wanting, she reminded herself. And so, thrusting her uncertainty aside, she told him the details of the murder, adding that the Templar had been sent for and that it was possible he may be allowed to come to Canterbury and investigate the crime.

  At this information, Gianni’s eyes lit up. He had not seen his former master for some months. Although the lad was happy with his new life in Nicolaa’s service, he missed the Templar’s company and often thought longingly of the time when they had been together.

  “Even if de Marins is given permission, Gianni,” Nicolaa warned, “it will take some days for him to travel to Canterbury. During the intervening time, any telltale traces the murderer may have left could be lost.”

  The boy nodded his understanding. The Templar always carefully examined the place where a murder had been done as quickly after the death as possible, and also carried out a similar inspection of the victim’s body, lest vital clues be inadvertently removed or destroyed by the passage of time.

  “It is imperative that we do not let that happen,” Nicolaa told him. “King John has therefore given me permission to set in motion a preliminary enquiry and has agreed with my suggestion that you undertake it on his behalf.”

  For a moment Gianni was stunned with surprise, but his recovery was quick. After nodding a solemn acceptance of the dictate, his fingers flew to the wax tablet at his belt, the one he used to take dictation before transferring it to parchment, and he raised his eyebrows in question.

  “That is correct,” she told him. “You will take notes of all you see and make a permanent record of your findings for the use of whoever finally investigates the crime, whether the Templar or some other. You are also to make a copy of all of the details and send them to the king for his perusal.”

  Satisfied that the boy now understood the great responsibility that had been placed on him and— by his eager expression—with his willingness to undertake the task, she outlined the initial steps he should take.

  “You have been with de Marins many times during his searches for a murderer. Follow his lead. Go and examine the house where the deed was done. Look in every nook and cranny for some sign that may give a clue to the identity of the killer. You have the king’s authority to question all of the servants—who will be kept under guard at the townhouse pending proof of their innocence or guilt—to determine whether or not any of them can be considered a suspect, or has information that may prove helpful.”

  As she said this she saw consternation cross Gianni’s face and added that she would send Miles de Laxton with him, as she had told the king, and that he was to write down his questions for the knight to ask. “After you have finished at the townhouse, go and examine the corpse. The Earl of Pembroke told me that the body has been taken to the death house in the church of St. Alphege, and I will write a letter for you to give to the priest there explaining that you have royal authority to do whatever you deem necessary.”

  Now true alarm came over Gianni’s countenance, and she smiled reassuringly. “Since the victim was a woman, and it would not be seemly for you to examine the corpse personally, I will direct Clare to accompany you to the church. She is not fainthearted and will, I know, be able to carry out the task under your direction.”

  Chapter Six

  After a hasty meal of hot meat pies and fresh bread provided by Dauton, Gianni and Miles set out for the royal townhouse on Stour Street. Gianni was pleased that it was Miles who would accompany him, for the knight had, on a previous occasion, been with the Templar during the apprehension of a murderer and was full of enthusiasm for their task. In his early thirties, he was an even-tempered knight, with an innately cheerful nature, and Gianni had always found him congenial company.

  The cathedral bells were ringing the hour of None when they started out, and the streets were filled with people—goodwives visiting the open-fronted shops that sold various household items, vendors bearing trays of hot pies in baskets slung around their shoulders, clerics from the cathedral and the many other churches in Canterbury hurrying past and, on almost every corner, the ubiquitous beggars that inhabited any town of reasonable size. There were not many pilgrims at this time of year, and only a few were on the streets, distinctive of notice by the medals depicting an image of the saintly Thomas Becket pinned to the crowns of their broad-brimmed hats.

  As they rode across the town, Miles said to Gianni, “I am looking forward to this duty.
While I regret the woman’s death and the threat it poses to the king, I am intrigued to be involved in the mystery that surrounds it. As you know, I was with de Marins when he arrested the man who murdered the clerk in the quarry, and afterwards he took the trouble to explain to me how he had discovered the mistakes the culprit had made. I was fascinated by the insight with which he made his deductions.”

  He looked down at Gianni with a smile. “The Templar also told me that you were of great assistance in untangling the riddles that confronted him, so I will take your lead, youngster, and learn as I go.”

  Gianni lifted his head a little higher as Miles repeated the Templar’s praise, but then he reminded himself not to be caught up in the sin of pride. He must go carefully and ensure he was not blinded by unwarranted confidence and so, with firm resolution, he turned his thoughts to the manner in which they would proceed after they arrived at the townhouse. During the rest of the short journey, and by means of questions from Miles and gestures and nods of agreement or negation from Gianni, they discussed how they would conduct the search for evidence and the questions the servants were to be asked. The knight’s suggestions and comments were perceptive and the lad felt certain that he and Miles would work well together.

  The royal townhouse was a large one, built of stone, and three stories high, with a kitchen at the back and stables and several outbuildings in a large yard. As Nicolaa had said, a guard was stationed outside the premises to keep the servants’ confinement secure, not mercenaries this time, but castle men-at-arms, all wearing the Canterbury badge of three choughs—a member of the crow family—on their tunics alongside the royal insignia. When they went up the steps and Miles told the soldier on guard at the entry the nature of their business, he opened the door and called for the steward of the property to attend them.