The King of Thieves:

by Michael Jecks

  ‘You must be mistaken,’ the Cardinal said automatically. Gone? The crétin could not have taken flight, surely. He had been alarmed last night after the meal, but that appeared only to make him more determined not to leave without the Queen. To go back alone was tantamount to admitting failure, and there was the matter of the Duke, too, the King’s son. King Edward would hardly be glad to see his son’s guardian turn up in England without his charge. ‘No, you must be mistaken. He wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘You ask the servants, then. I hunted about the castle, and no one’s seen him.’

  ‘Go and ask Arnaud. If the Bishop has left, Arnaud’s men will have seen him.’

  ‘Very well. But if he’s escaped, you’d best start making plans for what you should do.’

  The Cardinal stretched and smiled lazily. ‘Me? No. I will be perfectly safe. There is nothing the Bishop can tell the English about me that matters even remotely. I am safe.’

  Baldwin and Simon were the first to reach the gatehouse, and Baldwin immediately knocked on Arnaud’s door. ‘Porter? Ah, good. I hope you can help me. I would like to speak with the messenger Raoulet.’

  ‘I’ll have him brought to you.’

  When he arrived, Baldwin and Simon studied Raoulet with interest. Pons affected boredom, however, and Sir Richard found it hard to keep his eyes on the lad.

  Baldwin nodded towards some benches near the tavern, and Sir Richard’s spirits lifted. ‘You want a drink?’ he asked hopefully.

  The others made no response, but the big Coroner had soon acquired a large pot of wine, which he slurped as the others spoke.

  Raoulet was not an impressive witness, Baldwin reckoned. He was young, skinny and spotty, had the sort of baleful resentfulness that could so easily flare into rage, as was common with many young men nowadays. He had little to add to what they knew. Still, there was one aspect which intrigued Baldwin.

  ‘So you were at the gatehouse and received warning that a man called de Nogaret had come here to meet the Cardinal?’

  ‘Yes. I was told that by a kitchen knave. He said that he’d installed the man in a small chamber, the one where he was found later.’

  ‘Do you know the kitchen knave’s name?’

  ‘Yes. He was young Jehanin. Why?’

  ‘He’s dead. You know that?’

  ‘Of course. Lots of us have been talking about it. Sad.’ His face tended to disagree with his words.

  ‘I am glad there is nothing else to tell us,’ Simon said.

  ‘So am I,’ Raoulet said. Then he hesitated, his natural inquisitiveness getting the better of him. ‘Why?’

  ‘No reason. Except all those who knew anything about this meeting between the Cardinal and the man de Nogaret appear to have died. If you knew anything too, you might be next to die, mightn’t you?’

  Then, seeing the young man’s expression, he added insincerely, ‘There is probably nothing to worry about. After all, you don’t know anything about it – so there’s no need for you to ask us to protect you, is there?’

  Raoulet was looking darkly anxious now. ‘No, I don’t know anything,’ he repeated nervously.

  ‘That’s good,’ Baldwin said. ‘Because if you did, and anyone saw you here with us, they might think you were telling us all sorts of secrets.’

  ‘There was nothing! Honest! All I know, I’ve told you. The knave came to fetch me, and I went to get the Cardinal. And when we got to the chamber, the man was dead.’

  ‘Was the Cardinal still in his chamber?’ Baldwin asked.

  ‘Yes. He was there.’

  ‘Good. Then you have no secret to worry about.’ But the lad appeared worried about something still. Something that niggled at him. ‘Boy, what is it?’ Baldwin sighed.

  Raoulet set his head to one side. ‘It was just a little thing, but I couldn’t help but think about it afterwards. You see, when Jehanin came to get me, he didn’t come the normal way, the way I’d have expected. He actually seemed to come from the Cardinal’s direction.’

  Baldwin shot a look at Pons. The Frenchman was alert, staring fixedly at the messenger. ‘You sure of that?’ he asked gruffly.

  Raoulet looked across at him, disdain returning to his features. ‘Look, the Cardinal’s chamber is there,’ he said, making a scuffmark in the dust of the path. ‘The man was found dead here, and I was over here. Why did Jehanin come from the Cardinal’s rooms, then send me back the same way? At the time I thought he was just being lazy – that he was passing, saw me and thought he might as well get me to take the message to the Cardinal instead of him. But now, well, I’m not so sure.’

  ‘All right, you can wait for us outside now, lad,’ said Pons. Once Raoulet had gone, Pons turned to the others. ‘We should speak with the Cardinal,’ he said.

  Baldwin was frowning. ‘Why would a Cardinal want to seek the death of a young man like de Nogaret? It makes no sense.’

  Simon was eyeing him speculatively. ‘You told me that the older de Nogaret was involved in the destruction of the Templars and the thefts from the Jews. Perhaps it was something to do with one of them. After all, do you remember Bishop Walter last night saying that the Cardinal had said he was born to humble stock or something? How did he amass his wealth, if that’s true?’

  Pons sniffed. ‘A man may amass a large treasure if he’s ruthless enough.’

  ‘The Bishop also said he had a cup, the brother to a set he had seen in the Pope’s palace,’ Baldwin remembered. ‘But that was surely not a Templar artefact. Perhaps it was Jewish, and the Cardinal acquired it from the Jews?’

  ‘The Jews were expelled from France in the year before the Templars were arrested,’ Pons agreed. ‘It was a wonderful time for the King. He took on all their loans and demanded immediate payment, confiscated their houses and assets, everything. Just like the Templars.’

  ‘Let us go and see him, then,’ Baldwin said. He opened the door and motioned to Raoulet. ‘You know the way to the Cardinal’s chamber. Why not lead us?’

  Hugues saw them pass him, but he had more pressing matters to look into than where the English might be going. He continued on his way to Arnaud. ‘Hoi, Porter! Have you seen the Bishop – the English ambassador, Stapledon? He looks to have disappeared into thin air.’

  ‘Not here, no.’

  ‘He couldn’t have come past you in disguise?’

  ‘No. There’s been no one like him. Only the usual tranters and merchants coming in and a few pilgrims and travellers leaving.’

  ‘Travellers? What travellers?’

  Cardinal’s Chamber

  The Cardinal greeted them effusively as they entered, which in itself was enough to make Baldwin eye the man askance. His manner grated on the knight’s nerves.

  ‘My Lords, it is most kind of you to come here and visit me. Please, allow me to offer you refreshment.’

  ‘We have not had to travel,’ Pons said. ‘We are here to ask you a little about the day on which you were called to the chamber where you found the dead man de Nogaret.’

  ‘A terrible day, yes,’ the Cardinal said soberly. ‘I had known his father, but I never expected to know his son.’

  ‘You had not met before?’ Baldwin asked.

  ‘No. Never.’

  ‘Where did you meet his father, then?’

  ‘On diplomatic tasks. Here in court,’ the Cardinal said.

  ‘You had a humble upbringing, I understand?’ Baldwin continued.

  The Cardinal beckoned a servant and soon had his favourite goblet in his hands. ‘Yes. I was not born to a family of wealth and privilege.’

  ‘A lovely goblet,’ Baldwin said. ‘May I see it?’ He took the weighty cup and peered at it. ‘Wonderful workmanship. And Biblical scenes, too. Is it true that the Pope has some similar to this?’

  ‘Yes. I made him a gift of them when he took the Papal throne. That was this Pope’s predecessor, of course.’

  ‘Pope Clement – the Pope who oversaw the destruction of the Templars?’

  ‘Ye
s.’

  ‘That would mean that you did not acquire this cup and the others from Jews, then. The scenes are entirely Christian, are they not?’

  The Cardinal was staring at him with some perplexity. ‘What of it?’

  ‘I merely wondered where a man with such a humble background could have found these cups.’

  ‘It was while I was at Anagni.’

  ‘You were there,’ Baldwin said, ‘when Pope Boniface was captured and his treasure taken? He died within the week, did he not?’

  ‘I believe so, yes. A pity, no doubt, but the man was seriously unbalanced. He tried to set himself up as a competitor to the King of France. Clearly that would never be tolerated, and so he was chastised and removed.’

  ‘I suppose that by “chastised”, you mean he was beaten up, tortured, robbed and killed?’ Baldwin said tensely.

  ‘I suppose I do,’ the Cardinal said easily.

  ‘Did he deserve it?’ Pons asked.

  ‘Many thought so,’ Cardinal Thomas said. He picked up his goblet and glanced into it, motioning to a servant for more wine.

  ‘He probably did deserve punishment,’ Baldwin said with a firm restraint. ‘He deserved it as much as any who have stolen or killed, Cardinal. But he didn’t deserve to be beaten and slaughtered without trial. His death was not a punishment – it was a waylaying just as an outlaw might attempt.’

  ‘It seemed suitable at the time,’ the Cardinal said flatly, staring straight at Baldwin.

  There was a sudden thunderous pounding on the door, and Hugues and Lord John Cromwell strode inside.

  It was Lord John who barked, ‘Cardinal, the Bishop has fled the city!’

  ‘When did he go? Where?’

  ‘At first light – as soon as the gates were opened.’

  ‘Sweet Jesus!’ Hugues spat. ‘We must go and find him! If he gets back to the coast with news of …’ He suddenly noticed the other men in the room and curled back his lips from his teeth in a snarl. ‘At least these will remain here to help “protect” the English whelp, eh?’

  Baldwin felt Simon stiffen at his side, but his concern was more for the apparently affable Sir Richard, who was already half out of his seat, his hand moving dangerously close to his sword.

  ‘There is no reason to expect us to leave our charge,’ Baldwin said, stepping quickly before the other knight and blocking his path. ‘We are men of honour.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ the castellan said sarcastically.

  It was enough to make even Lord John, who was no friend to Bishop Walter, scowl. ‘They are honourable men who are respected by the Queen, man. You would do well to remember that.’

  The Cardinal spoke in a mollifying tone. ‘Gentlemen, please. There is no need to argue and bicker, just as there was no need for the good Bishop to fly from the city like a man in fear of his life. What is the reason for this? We must certainly send men to protect him. If he wishes to continue to the coast and leave the Queen and her son here, it is not for us to criticise. It is a matter for him and for the King who sent him. But he will need protection on his way, that is for certain. We must gather men to follow after him.’

  There was a suppressed urgency in Hugues as he nodded, turned and hurried off along the corridors. Lord John grunted and made his way after him, and the Cardinal rose graciously, finishing his wine and motioning to the others to follow him.

  ‘You were telling us about Anagni?’ Baldwin said.

  ‘Yes. Well, I was there, and it made me my fortune. I was one of those under Guillaume de Nogaret in the French team. We joined up with Giacomo Colonna, the man they called the “Quarreller”, or “Sciarra”, because he was so bellicose. He was keen to come to blows with the Pope, because Pope Boniface was from the Gaetani family, and the Colonnas hated them with a ferocity that must be seen to be believed.’

  They descended a staircase, and then were out in the cool, autumnal sunshine. A number of horses were already gathered about, and men were shouting commands, dogs barking or yelping, while from all parts of the castle other men stood gaping at the excitement.

  Baldwin continued, ‘So you were there with the French contingent, and you found a pot of money?’

  ‘We found some chests of cash. And that was enough for me to buy my Cardinal’s hat. Does that surprise you?’

  ‘There is nothing in the corruption of the Church in Rome which could shock me,’ Baldwin said icily.

  The Cardinal recalled it so vividly. The chests opening – he and Hugues gaping in shock at the money inside, while Paolo held Toscanello by the throat. For a moment all the sounds outside, all the noise inside, were dimmed. Time itself seemed to stand still, and Thomas reached into the nearest chest and touched a goblet, the one he still had with him here. Later he gave the matching goblets and plates to the Pope for his Cardinal’s hat. For that moment, though, there was no thought in his mind of giving up any of this hoard.

  ‘Our leader was a man called Paolo. It was he who caused the treasure to come to me, really,’ he said. ‘Paolo had another man with him, and he slashed the boy’s throat, purely because he didn’t want to share the loot. Well, there were two of us there at the time, and we didn’t need to talk about it. It was plain as a knife in a hand that Paolo wouldn’t share with anyone. So we two attacked him, and soon had him on the ground.’

  ‘And the treasure was split only two ways?’

  ‘That is right.’

  ‘And let me guess,’ Simon said. ‘You didn’t want to share it with another – say, Guillaume de Nogaret?’

  ‘Actually, no. That wasn’t such a problem,’ the Cardinal said. ‘We did share a little with him. But not with the King.’

  ‘So this is the money that de Nogaret’s son was talking about,’ Simon breathed.

  ‘Yes. I think he may have intended to come here to blackmail us into giving him some more. The fool! Why on earth would he think we’d pay now?’

  ‘Perhaps because he was sure that his word would count with the King,’ Baldwin said. ‘I think that’s what you also feared, so that was why you killed him.’

  ‘Aha! So you accuse me? But the messenger found me in my chamber. You know that.’

  ‘And we also know that the messenger was called to fetch you by a young kitchen knave called Jehanin. I wonder why that could have been? We have heard that Jehanin came to Raoulet from your rooms, not from the little chamber where the man was killed. It seems likely to me that you met de Nogaret down here, you led him to a separate chamber, where you killed him, and then you left him there, found Jehanin later, and told him to find a messenger to fetch you. I expect he was surprised by the request. Perhaps he questioned it? Perhaps he sought to ask for money later? Whatever the reason, you killed him too, and hid his body for a while, later throwing it into a box in the kitchen, so it could not be associated with you.’

  ‘A marvellous spinning of half-truths and invention. I congratulate you!’

  ‘Well I accuse you, Cardinal – I accuse you of having a hand in the murder of Guillaume de Nogaret, and in the murder of the kitchen knave Jehanin. What do you say?’

  Pons had stepped nearer and was listening carefully.

  ‘I deny it, of course. And unless I am mistaken, you have no authority in this city. And you too can keep your hand from your knife, Master Pons. I am a Cardinal, and that means I answer only to ecclesiastical officers, not the lay courts.’

  Several men had overheard the conversation, especially the accusation. There was a muttering from some groups, and a young lad was standing in the forefront, scowling furiously at the Cardinal. Baldwin thought he recognised the lad from the kitchen.

  ‘You can at least save any other man from being accused and punished,’ he said. ‘Do you deny killing the two?’

  ‘How would I have managed it? Come, it is hardly likely, is it?’

  ‘You do not deny it, then?’

  ‘I have had more than enough of this. You wish to contemplate my participation in these deaths, you may feel free. It is
nothing to me.’

  Pons shook his head now. ‘No, because the next question is, who ordered the murder of Jean le Procureur? He was investigating the killing of the two de Nogarets, and someone from here, a religious man, is said to have commanded that Jean must die.’

  Baldwin looked about him as a gasp burst from the onlookers. He was relieved to see the kitchen boy was gone. It could not have been pleasant for a young fellow to hear about the murder of his companion. The rest were drawing nearer, though, and there was a tide of anger rising all about him.

  ‘First you say that I am capable of killing two, and then that I must hire an assassin? Be logical.’

  ‘You deny the killing of Jean le Procureur?’

  ‘It is nothing to do with me. As I said before, I answer only to the ecclesiastical court. I may be tried for a crime in Rome, if the Pope sees fit to accuse me, but I do not answer for anything here in Paris. There is no court which can hear evidence against me, none with the power to punish me.’

  Baldwin would later regret that he didn’t look about him. The mumbling had increased within the group of men, and even Sir Richard had grown aware of it, and was warily watching the crowd. If a mob were to form, there would be nothing they could do. Meanwhile, though, Baldwin spent his time concentrating on the Cardinal, watching his face, assessing his mannerisms, his nervousness, his apparent guilt.

  But then the Cardinal’s face changed. All anger and confidence left in an instant, to be replaced by a dawning horror. He opened his mouth, staring at a point over Baldwin’s shoulder, and a curious little sigh burst from him.

  It was a sound Baldwin had heard all too often. No scream, no shriek of terror could bring more anguish than that. It was the last gasp of a man as he died.

  Even as Baldwin stepped forward to try to help the tottering figure, he saw the point of the cook’s long knife appear to the right of the Cardinal’s breast, the sudden flowering of blood as it seeped from the wound, and saw the Cardinal’s face whiten as he began to shake all over, falling forward into Baldwin’s arms.