The Moneylender of Toulouse

by Alan Gordon

  “How do I look?” I asked, turning back to Pelardit.

  He was staring down at the now nude form of Audrica, a look of reverence on his face.

  “Come on, it hasn’t been that long,” I said.

  He puffed out his cheeks, deflated them in a long, dying whistle, then threw a blanket over her and began taking his motley off.

  “I should be less than half an hour, there and back,” I said. “Don’t fall asleep. And don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  He nodded. I went out the door and closed it softly behind me.

  The sun was beginning to set as I reached the entrance to the courtyard of the Borsella place. The children were being summoned inside. I waited and watched. Evrard came out, his keys in his hand, and came to lock the gate. He hesitated as he saw me.

  “May I help you?” he asked. “We distributed alms earlier, but I might be able to find something in the kitchen.”

  “Thought I might help you,” I said in a low voice. “You’re that Evrard, aren’t you?”

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “One who would be your friend,” I said. “Closing up shop for the night, I see.”

  “This is no shop,” he snapped. “And I will trouble you to—”

  “You’re the one with the troubles,” I said. “World of troubles rolled into one lovely lass.”

  He went very still.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “I’m the messenger of misery, the bad news bearer,” I said. “She’s been pulling the wool over your eyes, boy, and I’m here to cure your blindness. Just like Our Savior did, only I do it with the laying on of words, not hands.”

  “Where is she? Is she safe?”

  “As to the second question, do you mean is she safe from danger or is she something other than dangerous in her own right?” I asked. “Yes to the first, depending on what you call danger. No to the second, as are all of Eve’s rotten daughters. As to the where, I’m willing to show you, but the information grows stale fast, ’cause she’ll be moving on to the next one soon if I’m any judge of drabs.”

  “You lie!” he shouted, lunging at my throat, and I skipped back a few steps to avoid him.

  “Now, that’s no way to treat your new best friend,” I admonished him. “Do that again, and I won’t tell you who her lover is.”

  “You know this for a fact,” he said.

  “Any man can say a thing and call it a fact,” I said. “I can show you the thing and let you decide for yourself. You coming?”

  He pulled the gate shut behind him and locked it.

  “Take me to her,” he growled.

  “I am your servant,” I said, bowing. “Follow me.”

  I led him through the Portaria as the bells for Vespers rang through the city. The gates closed behind us, sealing the town from the bourg. I led Evrard to Pelardit’s place.

  “You know, the first time I came to Toulouse, I was on a pilgrimage to Compostela,” I said conversationally. “Just a kid. We’d been walking all day, and I was thirsty as hell. Saw a pond right after we came through the gate, so I ran down and plunged my hands into the water and drank like there was no tomorrow. Worst water I ever had. Tasted like a cow had died in it. Looked up to see a bunch of fellows laughing their asses off at my expression. It was a tanner’s pit. I spent the rest of the day heaving my guts out. Damn near died. That was my welcome to Toulouse.”

  “What’s the point of all this?” he asked me.

  “No point,” I said. “Just talking. I mean, it’s like that girl of yours. You think she’s a long, cool drink of spring water waiting for you at the end of a hot day, but she’s poison below the surface, boy. I saw her drinking with that fool, the one who doesn’t talk. Had her hands all over him. He took her up here, not an hour ago, and she looked like she had more than an hour’s worth of fun to give him. She’s played you for a fool, and with a fool to boot. Here’s the door. Shall we knock first?”

  He charged and hit it with his shoulder. Pelardit had thoughtfully left it unlatched, so it swung open easily. Audrica and the fool were entwined on the bed in apparent post-coital bliss. He had draped her right arm and leg artfully over his body.

  And there was now a knife in Evrard’s hand.

  “I’ll kill you!” he roared.

  I dove at his knees from behind as he rushed toward the bed. He went down in a heap. Pelardit shoved Audrica aside and leapt into the air, gathering himself into a ball as he did. He landed with all of his weight on our jealous keykeeper, knocking the wind out of him momentarily. I grabbed Evrard’s wrist and twisted it until he let the knife go.

  “I’ll kill you! Kill you!” he kept roaring, spittle running down his chin.

  “Like you did your master?” I shouted.

  “He deserved it!” he shouted. “He defiled her. I avenged her honor!”

  “Then you avenged nothing,” I said. “She has no honor, and your master never touched her.”

  “She told me everything!” he shouted.

  “She lied to you, Evrard,” I said. “And you believed her like the lovestruck dupe that you are. Trust me, friend, your beloved is the whore of Bazacle, and Guilabert her procurer and chief customer.”

  “No,” he moaned, but there was doubt on his face.

  “You have any rope in this place?” I asked Pelardit.

  He pointed to the second shelf, where it was neatly coiled and stowed. I grabbed it and tied Evrard’s hands behind his back. Then I did the same for his ankles, and trussed everything together so there was no chance of him getting out of it.

  Pelardit got up and started putting his motley back on. Evrard rolled onto his side and looked at the two of us.

  “I know him,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “Another fool,” I said, taking off the wig and mustache. “We haven’t met, but I’ve seen you around. Lovely bit of testimony before the baile at your late master’s inquest. Moved me almost to tears. Almost. But now our colleague and his wife are set to swing for a man you killed. We aren’t about to let that happen.”

  “I heard about Jordan and Martine,” he said.

  “Heard and did nothing,” I said, sitting by him. “That would have been another pair of deaths on your hands. Two nice boys orphaned by your cowardice. Don’t tell me you did this out of heartsickness. You have no heart.”

  “I would not have let them hang!” he shouted. “I only found out tonight. I was praying for guidance.”

  “Your prayers have been answered,” I said. “I am your guide. Tell me how your master got the Book of Names from Guilabert.”

  “How did you know?” he said, gaping at me.

  “Answer questions. Don’t ask them,” I said, resting the tip of my boot on his throat for a second.

  “Master was a Cathar,” he gasped quickly.

  I removed the boot.

  “There had been rumors,” he continued. “Some kind of plot against the Cathars. They always feared Rome, but this time the danger seemed to be somehow connected to the Château Bazacle. My master had constant dealings with Guilabert, sometimes lending money for his projects, sometimes borrowing when his own coffers were short. He started spying on him. He had me get what information I could out of Audrica, but that never sat right with me.”

  “Spare me,” I said. “When did he get the book?”

  “It was a few days before he died,” he said. “Master was laughing like a madman when he got it. He sat in his office and started thumbing through it. I didn’t know what it was or what it meant, but I knew it came from Guilabert. He wouldn’t show it to me. Then he got to one page and stopped laughing. He said, ‘No, not him,’ and he tore it out and burned it with a candle until it was gone. Then he locked it in that little drawer in his desk and made me give him my key for it. ‘No one in here when I am not,’ he told me. ‘Not you, not a maid. No one.’”

  “Did you see the book again?”

  “No,” he said. “I swear it.”

 
“Tell about the night he died.”

  He closed his eyes, tears streaming from them.

  “He came home, changed, then went out,” he said. “Just like I testified.”

  “But there was more.”

  “She came to me,” he whispered. “I was locking up for the night when I heard her call my name. I came out, and she was hiding in the shadows. When she came into the light she—was bleeding, and her clothes torn half off—”

  He started sobbing.

  “Whatever she was, whatever she looked like, it was all to deceive you,” I said. “Tell me what happened.”

  “She said that she had been the one who helped Milon Borsella steal the book from Guilabert,” he said, nearly choking on his sobs. “She said that he had—had violated her, then threatened her with shame and scandal if she did not help him. But that her master suspected her, and was threatening to kill her if she did not get it back. And that she had gone to Milon that night to try and persuade him to return it for her sake, and that he had raped and beaten her and spat upon her bloodied—by God, I was in such a fury that I ran through the bourg toward where I knew the Cathars held their meetings. I encountered him as he was coming back. He thought there was some emergency, he came right up to me, and before I could think anymore I picked up a stone from the ground and struck him with it.”

  He stopped, shaking his head.

  “He trusted me,” he said in disbelief. “And I murdered him. All I could think of was her. I took his keys, and took the desk key that he had taken from me back. Then I threw the other keys into the canal and ran back to Audrica, and she cried and said what a hero I was, and we went into the office together and I unlocked the drawer.”

  “And it wasn’t there,” I said.

  “No,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do. She said it must have still been on his body. I didn’t want to go back there, but she started crying again and there was nothing else but to do it. I went back, and the book wasn’t there. I looked around where he had fallen. Then I heard someone coming. I rolled him into the tanner’s pit and fled.”

  “How did Bonet Borsella find out about the book?”

  “How did you know about him?”

  “I find things out,” I said. “It’s what I do. Tell me about Bonet.”

  “After the fight with Father Mascaron, he drew me aside. He said that Milon had confided in him about the book, and that he needed to find it. It was a matter of life or death. I didn’t know if he was telling me the truth or not. I didn’t care. I was too frightened of being found out, so I did what he asked and started searching for it. But I never found it. I guess you did.”

  “Ever learn what this was all about?”

  “No. That’s all that I know. What are you going to do with me?”

  “You had best get used to that rope,” I said. “You’re going to be seeing a lot of it in the not too distant future.”

  I pulled him up to a sitting position.

  “Fellow looks like he could use a drink,” I observed. “Pelardit, do you have anything left in that wineskin from earlier?”

  He held his thumb and forefinger apart an inch.

  “Then in the spirit of what’s left of Christmas, let’s give it to poor Evrard here,” I suggested. “Might be the last decent taste of wine he’ll ever get.”

  Pelardit picked up the wineskin, fiddling with the opening for a moment. Then he held it to Evrard’s lips and tilted it. The keykeeper drank greedily. A few minutes later, he was asleep.

  “Better put Audrica’s clothes back on,” I said. “Then tie her up, and gag them both.”

  I changed back into my motley and reapplied my makeup. By the time I was done, Audrica was dressed and bound, sitting next to her beloved.

  “They make a handsome couple,” I observed. “They could get married before they hang. I’ll see if I can get Father Mascaron to perform a gallows wedding. All right, looks like you’re going to have to be a jailer for the night. Keep them quiet. But keep them alive.”

  He nodded, then looked at me, a question on his face.

  “I’m going home to get some sleep,” I said. “Some dishes need to simmer overnight rather than boil immediately. I’ll make sure you get some relief in the morning.”

  He sighed, and hauled the two onto his spare pallet and tossed a blanket over them. I left, and he bolted the door behind me.

  Claudia was still up and waiting for me by the time I got back to Honoret’s.

  “How are the children?” I asked.

  She held a finger to her lips and beckoned me over to Helga’s room. The two boys were in her bed, nestled into her arms on either side, the smaller one with his thumb in his mouth. Claudia closed the door softly.

  “She insisted on staying with them,” she said. “Cheered them up, made them laugh, assured them that the great Tan Pierre would have their parents free by tomorrow. Can you do that?”

  “Tomorrow may be optimistic,” I said. “But Monday may be good.”

  “Everything go as expected?” she asked.

  “Pelardit lured Audrica to his room quite easily,” I said. “I had no idea he was such an accomplished seducer.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me in the least,” she said. “What did you find out from her?”

  I filled her in on what I had learned.

  “Evrard,” she said. “Betrayed by his love, betrayer of his master. Hanging will be a mercy for him now. What made you think Audrica was the key to the keykeeper?”

  “I thought that there had to be some connection between Guilabert’s household and that of Milon, both for Milon to be able to get to the book and for Guilabert to suspect him of the theft. Evrard seemed a likely candidate, given his connection to Audrica, and that conversation Helga overheard between him and Bonet Borsella. When I learned about Audrica’s true nature, I thought she might have been Guilabert’s means of exploiting Evrard’s loyalties.”

  “And if you had been wrong?”

  “Then she would have woken up in Pelardit’s bed with a nasty hangover,” I said. “I figured that would not have been such an unusual thing for her.”

  “You realize that this won’t be enough to bring down Guilabert,” she said. “The word of a drunken maid against his will hardly stand up against scrutiny.”

  “No,” I agreed. “But a murder solved on Christmas. I call that a good day’s work. Shall we to bed?”

  She bowed her head demurely.

  “Senhor, I am prepared to do my wifely duty as you require,” she said. “It is Christmas, after all.”

  “Oh, good heavens,” I muttered. “I only said that because I was playing a role.”

  “Are you turning me down?” she asked, shooting me a coy glance.

  “I didn’t say that,” I said. “Husbands have duties, too.”

  “And we are nothing if not slaves to duty,” she murmured, taking my hand and leading me to our room.

  * * *

  We rose at dawn and awakened Helga, but let the boys sleep while we did our exercises.

  “Here’s a question for you, husband,” said Claudia, who had slid to the floor in a split-legged position. “Mascaron said that Milon had come back to the Church, but all this time he was spying on Guilabert for the Cathars. How could he have been doing both?”

  “His return to the Church might have been part of the role he was playing for the Cathars,” I said. “Sounds like this moneylender was capable of making anyone believe anything at the time he said it. A man I could have looked up to.”

  “Except he got found out,” said Helga.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “And got killed,” she said.

  “True.”

  “And we’ve been found out,” she continued. “Donatus was watching us. Mascaron suspects us. The Count thinks you’re more than just a fool. What’s to keep us from getting killed?”

  “Nothing, Apprentice. Aren’t you glad you joined the Guild?”

  “Every minute of my day,” she said, gr
inning.

  “Good. What’s the older boy’s name again?”

  “Oliver.”

  “Does he seem reliable? Do you think he could run an errand for me later?”

  “Will it help his parents get out of prison?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then he will do it to perfection.”

  “Good,” I said. “I must to the Château Narbonnais to see how Jordan fares. Helga, mind the boys for now. Claudia, meet me at Jordan’s house in an hour.”

  The Palace of Justice also had dungeons underneath. I showed my pass to the captain of the guards, who was not surprised to see me.

  “He’s been shouting for you ever since they put him in,” he said. “He’s got good lungs, so he’s quite the shouter. Started running down around dawn.”

  “I’ve brought some food for the two of them,” I said. “Is that all right?”

  He looked around carefully, then pocketed the coin I was holding out and nodded.

  “Jordan’s down that end, his wife’s at the other,” he said.

  “They’re married. They can’t be kept together?” I asked.

  “Orders,” he said. “Besides, you put a married couple facing the gallows in a cell together, and they’ll be keeping us up all night.

  “Everyone needs to sleep sometime,” I agreed.

  I went to see Martine first. Her cell had a simple wooden door, barred on the outside. A guard opened it. She sat on the floor, her knees drawn to her chest, one leg shackled to a ring on the floor. She looked up blearily at me.

  “I brought you cheese and sausage,” I said, handing her a parcel. “The sausage comes from a reputable place, not those boys by the Maison Commune.”

  She took it from me without expression and placed it on the floor by her.

  “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t come here,” she said flatly. “What will become of my boys?”

  “Listen to me,” I said, kneeling before her and taking her hand. “Your boys are safe, and we are doing everything we can to clear your names. I vow that I will get you out of this.”