by Rosie Lear
Matthias was surprised at how relieved he was to be able to sit in a chair that didn’t bounce and move. He rested his arm across his chest, and explained the happenings of the night to Sir Tobias.
“I seem to have become involved in something that has put my household at risk,” he finished, “and I perhaps have not taken things seriously enough. I’ve allowed Davy to investigate without due concern for who might notice – I’ve wasted several days in self doubt and depression, and it’s blown my plans off course. So,- now what’s to be done?”
Sir Tobias rested his chin on his hands, elbows on the table in front of him. Nicholas put the parchment to one side and laid down his quill.
“I’m waiting for William to return from Poole,” Sir Tobias began, “There was a sea-captain in the monastery when you rested there. Two of the men whom you over-heard were on hired horses which the stable boy thought came from Poole – and Poole is, as you know, a sea port with access to France.”
“The King’s spy network is in a degree of confusion,” Sir Tobias continued, reluctantly. “He comes of age, as you know, Matthias, this year, and there is great rivalry in court between those who have been his regents and protectors…..but Sherborne is too small and insignificant to be involved in serious King’s business. We must look to the Abbey, despite the possible connection to France through Poole, - and we must look fast, for the boy is still missing.”
Matthias furrowed his brow and gnawed on his lip.
“Ben was apprenticed to Richard Cope. When I asked about customers he’d visited for Master Cope, the merchant refused to tell me. He was evasive – and I didn’t follow that up – I didn’t really have any authority to do so, in any case.
“So it’s possible that Richard Cope might know something of value. I doubt he’s directly involved – he’s too canny to dirty his hands, but I shall call on him and press him for information,” decided Sir Tobias.
Matthias tried to organize his thoughts.
“We haven’t traced the source of the coins, - nor do we know for what they were searching. Mary was killed in the same way as Ben, so we can assume it to be the same person. Why would Ben involve Mary?”
Sir Tobias sat up suddenly.
“Maybe that’s the wrong way round, Matthias. Maybe Mary involved Ben.”
“So that takes us back further – to her brother Roger,” Matthias mused.
“Brother Roger is a young and skilled thief, apparently.The little sister told Davy that Roger had been stealing again – the searcher at the house was convinced Roger had stolen something.”
“Who were they stealing for?” Sir Tobias rumbled. He rubbed his hands through his hair in frustration. ‘And what was it that he stole?
“How did anyone know of my involvement?” Matthias wondered, troubled suddenly at leaving Davy and Elizabeth alone for too long.
“Who knew you were enquiring? Tell me, Matthias.”
Matthias forced his brain to work.
“Mistress Fosse, - Davy went to look for Ben, and she knew Davy worked for me, but that’s too tenuous to be worthwhile. Richard Cope, the glover – he was indignant that I asked for the names of customers Ben had visited. The Abbot himself and Prior Simon…..Lydia and her mother – highly unlikely…….Mary’s family…..and I suppose the young priest who helped Davy when I sent him to Mary’s home….all very unlikely …” he tailed off uncertainly.
“Were you seen when you frightened off the men who fired Lydia’s roof?” Sir Tobias asked sudden “It’s possible,” Matthias admitted, “although it was dark, there was light from the flames which burned up very quickly, - and I jumped right out of hiding to throw stones at the horses.”
“You may well have been seen, and then recognized afterwards. Have you been followed?”
“Followed?” Matthias asked bleakly, “I really have no idea. It simply didn’t occur to me.”
A chill came over him. What purpose could there possibly be in following him? He said so to Sir Tobias.
“You are surprisingly naïve, Matthias. There is a rich prize here somewhere, - if we can discover its origin. You may have been a marked man from the moment you set foot in Sherborne to enquire after Ben. Whoever is behind this may fear you know more than is good for you. He may need to silence you. I need to pay Master Cope a visit. You, Matthias, should go home and collect Elizabeth and Davy and bring them here. You need a place of safety for a few days while we get to the bottom of this. Last night failed – but tomorrow is another day.”
“I’m not sure Davy could travel,” Matthias said, doubtfully, “Elizabeth was of the opinion that he had broken a rib.”
“Nicholas will go with you – and William, if you can wait for him to be a little rested – I hear the hooves in the yard now. Maybe he will have something to add, - and then we need to find the boy before he comes to harm.”
Lady Bridget’s kitchen was well supplied. Her serving girl produced an acceptable repast of cheese and bread whilst Matthias waited somewhat impatiently for William. He had ridden from Poole, stopping overnight at his sister’s house in Wimborne. He was dusty and tired, but quite undismayed on learning that he would have to mount again after a brief rest.
“News, William?” asked Sir Tobias, a frown of concentration knitting his forehead.
“Sketchy only – but useful,” William replied, asking with his eyes whether he was free to speak what he had learned in front of Matthias. Sir Tobias gave a slight nod.
“The sea captain is from Poole, and is indeed a true sea captain, plying between Poole and Calais. He carries wool and cloth – and some occasional passengers. He is known to be mostly an honest man, but of late has had money to spend. I spoke with the harbour-master who is a cousin of my sister’s husband. He told me that on the last two voyages, the captain, one Ralph of Melcombe – has carried passengers both ways. They seem to be merchants by their dress – they may well be the pair who were overheard at the monastery.”
“You saw no-one who resembled Matthias’ description of them?”
“No,” William replied, “but there is a good deal of trade at Poole, and so many merchants coming and going that it would be hard to pick them out.”
“France,” said Sir Tobias thoughtfully, “but why Sherborne? We have nothing here worth spying on. The young King rarely comes within miles – his hunting lodge at Gillingham or to visit the Bishop of Salisbury is probably the nearest – and that only with his retinue of protectors and hangers-on.”
“Is it to spy or to steal?” Matthias wondered, suddenly.
“If it is to steal, then it must be something worth killing for – or a thing somebody powerful and rich desires and so is prepared to offer good gold for underhand deeds,” Sir Tobias declared. He pushed his wine goblet away from him and stood up.
“We linger too long. I must see the Abbot again, - this time more urgently, and I will also call on Master Cope. He will tell me who these customers were, or I shall have him answer to the sheriff. William, Nicholas, - ride with Matthias to bring Davy and Elizabeth here. I would not have deaths where we can prevent them.”
It was a hurried party which rode out from Purse Caundle late that morning. Sir Tobias rode with them part of the way, and when they turned into Milborne Port, he rode on towards Sherborne, anxious to reach the Abbey.
Matthias was relieved beyond belief to find his house still standing, and Davy moving cautiously round the yard, watched by an anxious Elizabeth, but Davy was not at all happy to be asked to ride out to Purse Caundle.
“Suppose this fine house were to be fired in our absence, Master?” he objected, “and I am still very tender. Elizabeth has bound my chest and ribs, but it jars and jolts at every move.”
Matthias stood perplexed in his own home. He looked at Davy, pale and sweating from the small amount of exertion of sweeping in the stable yard. He had dark smudges under his eyes and pain lines around his mouth. Even with William and Nicholas to help, he would find the journey of some five miles or
so, very painful.
“Sir Tobias was quite definite in his instructions,” William stated. He could see and appreciate the indecision in Matthias.
“Somebody has marked you well, Matthias. Would you risk another such attack?”
“I would be more prepared his time,” began Matthias.
William’s experienced eye ran over him. He saw a young man of determined attitude, strong, fit but untrained in combat.
“Forgive me,” he said, “but you were lucky last evening. I think we are talking about hired assassins who have been paid well to do a job. You and Davy fought well, but you were both injured. You do not know whether your attacker sustained any injuries – we must assume not. They – or he – may return tonight to finish what was started yesterday. He will find two assailants who may be ready and waiting, but who are not fully recovered from yesterday, - especially Davy. So you are willing – but weakened. It is unlikely that they will fire the house if they discover it empty – they want you dead to avoid being recognized or discovered. The two men who fired Lydia’s home and the two men you overheard in the monastery hostelry were clearly the same. That’s twice you could have seen them – they want you gone, Matthias.”
Reluctantly, Matthias concurred. He felt but a babe in such things; his well intentioned meddling had led them into danger, and however uncomfortable Davy’s journey, it was one he had to make.
Elizabeth damped the fire down and put together a few necessities.
“Only a day or two, I hope,” she said, quietly.
William saddled the nag for Davy, and helped Elizabeth up behind himself. As Matthias turned his great house key in the lock, he hoped devoutly that they would return safely very soon.
Chapter 11
Sir Tobias rode straight to Richard Cope’s shop. His work as coroner of Dorset was varied and interesting, but he had not encountered a case before which held such genuine intrigue and plotting. He was more accustomed to thefts, and such killings as there were involved jealousies or drunken loutishness. This case was different. He smelled danger and a sinister sense of being watched by unknown persons, for reasons that were as yet unclear to him.
Master Cope greeted him warmly. Sir Tobias was well known for a man who liked the gracious things of life, and who had the wherewithal to afford them. Richard Cope smiled pleasantly, thinking of the fine leather gloves he had at present – ideal for the coroner’s lady wife. His smile faded rapidly when he learned the coroner’s real business.
“My guild is against allowing people access to our customers,” he blustered.
“Nonsense!” Sir Tobias declared, robustly. “The guild is but recently formed – and any guild which helps its members to withhold information needed by the coroner or the sheriff when investigating two murders needs to be disbanded instantly. What have you got to hide, Richard?”
The glover’s eyes slid past the coroner and fastened themselves on a distant and indiscriminate piece of sky.
“Why should I hide anything?” he asked.
“That is precisely what I’m asking you!” Sir Tobias snapped.
“Ben was your most experienced apprentice – he was within days of completing his time with you, and you allowed him considerable leeway. He visited customers for you and delivered finished goods. He apparently was absent from the shop longer than need be of recent times. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Richard Cope replied unhappily. He kept his eyes well away from Sir Tobias.
“Then why did you not reprimand him? You are known to be a good and able master. Why did Ben escape your wrath?”
Master Cope licked his lips nervously. His eyes flickered to a spot on the far side of the street.
“Which was what?” Sir Tobias asked, coldly.
“I cannot explain it to you.”
“Oh yes you can,” was the swift answer.
“It involves my dealings with Father Samuel and the Abbey church,” muttered the glover.
“With Father Samuel and the Abbey..?” echoed Sir Tobias.
“I am in agreement with Father Samuel’s objections to the plans for the Abbey relative to All Hallows…”
“How could this lead to murder?” asked Sir Tobias, aghast.
“No, no – I’m sure it did not,” Richard Cope said hastily, “Ben discovered my involvement with Father Samuel and my supplying monies for the purchase of the new font erected in All Hallows…..he agreed to say nothing to anyone of any standing if I allowed him to deal with one particular customer.”
“And who was this customer?”
“It was nothing – nothing that could offer any solution,” Richard Cope said, squirming under Sir Tobias’ hard eyes.
“I’m waiting, Master Cope. I don’t know who you think you’re protecting – Ben is dead. His widow is homeless. The serving girl is dead, and Matthias Barton and his household have been attacked in their own home. The brother of the serving wench is missing – may be even dead as far as I can tell. I need every piece of information I can squeeze out of you. You are scared for your own safety within the town – a town which is becoming divided on a church matter, and your unwillingness to divulge information doesn’t become you or this newly formed guild you’ve become involved with.”
Richard Cope flushed deeply. Sir Tobias was a perceptive man – his reluctance was to save his own face within the guild should his small part in Ben’s downfall come to light - and to a certain extent – guilt, that allowing Ben access to a customer should have perhaps been instrumental in causing his death. He breathed deeply.
“He wanted to visit the locksmith.”
“The locksmith?” Sir Tobias repeated. Enlightenment dawned – could Ben have wanted to have a key made? Was a key the missing part of this whole affair? If they could discover that, they would be halfway to the truth.
“Yes, - he took some fabric samples for him to see, and when he had chosen his style, Ben delivered the finished gloves. They were a gift for his wife.”
“When were these visits made?”
“I can’t recall,” began Richard Cope, beginning to recover his composure, although his hands felt clammy. He was willing the coroner to keep his voice down.
“I think you can” Sir Tobias said, firmly, “Fetch your day book.”
“I don’t need to,” Richard Cope said, giving in wearily, “The samples went out in mid February and the gloves were delivered by Ben just a week before he died. That was the time when he was away for most of the morning.”
“Why was it necessary to withhold this information from me?” Sir Tobias demanded. The merchant looked sheepish.
“I resented Master Barton asking me for details of my customers. These newly formed guilds will be powerful tools for the craftsmen and merchants. I didn’t want trading information revealed to all and sundry.”
“Is there not another reason?” Sir Tobias demanded, sternly. “Did you not think if your plans to support Father Samuel against the Abbot came to light the guild would look badly on you?”
“Oh no – it was not the guild,” Master Cope explained, relinquishing any attempt to conceal things from the coroner now, “It was the monks who had befriended Ben. He had formed a friendship with two brothers of which I was aware – and I feared Ben would pass news on to them, thus revealing to the Abbot who had provided the finance for the font and our other plans are by no means complete yet, - nor are we even sure of who is for and who against.. Ben made a promise not to reveal any of this to his new found friends if I allowed him to deal directly with the locksmith.”
“What do you think was the importance of the locksmith to Ben?” Sir Tobias asked, hoping to pump Master Cope further now he had him in a mental stranglehold.
“I presumed he was beginning to try and start a customer base of his own with one eye on his future , and he knew I wasn’t too concerned about retaining Will Shergold. He only has one order each year, - hardly a great loss to me if Ben should want to cultivate him as his first customer.”
Master Cope looked surprised, as if he had not considered it before.
Well, - no.” he admitted, a little dejected that he hadn’t thought of that point himself.
“Can you describe these two monks to me?” asked the coroner., but Master Cope was unable to offer any more information at all – a cowled monk in a town with a large abbey was very like any other cowled monk, and he had never seen either of them at close quarters. It was obvious to Sir Tobias that Ben had thought them to be genuine brothers from the Abbey, - whether they were or not he hoped soon to be able to tell.
With Richard Cope now able to look him in the eye, Sir Tobias felt he could gain no more information from the glover..
Will Shergold was the next port of call, and Will was easy meat. He had nothing to hide, and he was secretly rather frightened by the sight of the coroner at his shop door. He had also liked Ben and been both surprised and saddened by his death.
“Ben needed a key copied and cut,” he told Sir Tobias, with no attempt at subterfuge.
“He asked me to do it in February, but it was only a week before he died that he actually brought the key in. He waited while I did it. He said it had to be returned the same day.”
“Did he seem nervous while he was waiting?” the coroner asked.
“Oh no,” Will answered, “he was in a happy mood. He sat here and drank some ale and we chatted.”
“What did you chat about?”
“Nothing of any importance,” said Will, frowning hard to remember.
“Think, Will,” pleaded Sir Tobias, “The key may hold the answer. Have you any idea where the original came from?”
“I believe it came from the Abbey,” said Will, with some hesitation. It was his first moment of hesitation, so he added, “I cannot be sure, - Ben was evasive, but I had a feeling that he had some business with the Abbey. I saw him meet with one of the brothers immediately after he’d taken the key… they stopped on the corner opposite the shop and talked for several minutes.”