The Gallows Murders

his family out of Lincoln.'
    'And the money left at Thurgood's?' I asked. That's yours, isn't it?' She nodded. 'I was a very good seamstress, Master Shallot, but I was an even better whore. The great and rich of Lincoln sought my favours. I kept my monies hidden. Andrew was proud and refused to touch my money. When he died, I simply drew it out of my secret lace and took it down to Thurgood's. I dressed and acted as a man. I didn't think anyone would show much interest.' She sighed, put the embroidery down on the chair and walked over to make sure the door was closed. She came back and stood over us. 'I could tell the day you first came that you were suspicious that I was not the grieving widow.' She crouched down before me, the skin of her beautiful face tight and glistening with sweat, those beautiful eyes begging and pleading with me. 'God be my witness, I did not love Andrew Undershaft. He was a good man, but he knew what I was. Now he is dead. I don't know why, God rest his soul. However, for the first time in my life, Master Shallot, I am free of the past. I am a woman of good standing in my community. I have a house, I have children, I have my trade as a seamstress and monies with the goldsmith. I can start again…' She paused.'… If I am allowed to.'
    I stroked her hair, took her hand and made her stand. I kissed her on each cheek.
    ‘Your secret's safe, Mistress Undershaft.' I tapped her shoulder lightly. There are good physicians in the city. They could hide that for you.'
    Benjamin also took her hand, vowing what she had told us would remain a secret. He made her promise that, if she remembered anything untoward, she would tell us.
    When we left the house, darkness had fallen. Benjamin linked his arm through mine and we walked back towards the Tower. 'What do you think, Roger?' 'I believe her, Master. But, there again, if she can lie once, she can He a second time.' 'But you don't think that?'
    'No, Master, I don't. I still wonder about her husband. Was that really his corpse discovered at Smithfield? Or is he the villain? An ex-priest, a violent man by all accounts.'
    Benjamin stopped and leaned against a garden wall, listening to a nightingale which was singing so beautifully in the trees above his head.
    'All things are possible, Roger. However, let's remember the three men who have been killed. They are all fairly young, tough, probably violent. They wouldn't give up their lives lightly. Ergo, were they murdered by someone close to them?'
    'Not necessarily, Master,' I replied. ‘Undershaft, if it was he, could have been drugged or knocked on the head before he was burnt. Remember, his body was bundled into a cage at the height of the plague. No one would care a whit: Horehound and Hellbane could have gone the same way. I still believe we should ask the sheriff to search for Undershaft. Remember, he was a priest, skilled in matters of the Chancery. The drawing up and sealing of letters would be easy for such a man. But God knows where those blessed seals came from.,.'
    'Aye, that's the stumbling block,' Benjamin agreed. Those damn seals.' He came closer. ‘I asked Agrippa about that. He confirmed the King had made a search of all Chanceries. Nothing remains from the reign of a young boy who ruled only for a few months some forty years ago.'
    ‘Henry will now be dancing up and down in fury, or gnawing on the rushes at Windsor, threatening to have my head on a pole,' I added bitterly.
    Benjamin grinned and slapped me on the shoulder. Don't worry, Roger, the game's not over yet.'
    Well, it nearly was. My master was far too trusting. We went down another alleyway, intending to enter the Tower by the Lion Gate. It was a quiet night, well away from the taverns and cheap markets of Petty Wales where you can buy or sell anything until the early hours. I was trailing slightly behind Benjamin, kicking at anything in my path, and wondering if I should suggest that we take a journey abroad. After all, we could be in Dover within a day, and in France by the end of the week. I was about to suggest this when a crossbow bolt flew by my face and cracked the plaster in the house alongside. I stopped.
    My master pulled me down just as another bolt came whirring through the night air. We crouched like two little schoolboys, staring into the darkness, straining our ears for any sound. It came from the riverside,' Benjamin whispered.
    I could hear the lap of the water and the faint cries of a boatman, but nothing else.