The House of Shadows

Gaunt paused. ‘The problem was twofold. We didn’t want anyone seeing such a barge go directly from the Tower to the flagship; any would-be thief would be watching for that. More importantly, and remember this, we wanted as few people as possible to know when or where the treasure was taken aboard. The design was mine-—’
    ‘So, it was you who chose Mortimer and Culpepper?’
    ‘Yes. Mortimer was my henchman, a man who was mine both body and soul, as I was his,’ Gaunt added sadly. ‘In France , Mortimer saved my life on at least two occasions during sudden ambuscade. I talked to him and swore him to secrecy, and asked him to find one man he could trust. He brought along Culpepper, whom I also liked. I paid them for their needs, good silver to ease their path.’
    Gaunt’s strange blue eyes held Athelstan’s gaze. The friar wondered how much this cunning nobleman knew about the searches by both himself and Cranston . He recalled the whisperings of his own parishioners, how Gaunt had more spies in London than the city had dogs.
    ‘We decided,’ Gaunt continued, ‘to transport the gold on the Eve of St Matthew, the twentieth of September. My boatmen were told to take the chest across the Thames . They would pause for a while at the Oyster Wharf , where my agents would ensure that all was well, before continuing further south. They did so. Mortimer and Culpepper had not even told me the precise location, except that it was a lonely stretch on the south bank of the Thames, near to where the river turns down towards Westminster .’ Gaunt paused, sucking on his teeth. ‘According to my men, everything went according to plan. My agents on the Oyster Wharf were satisfied that everything was well and the barge continued. You see, Brother, boats and barges go up the Thames every day and every night; those who lusted after the treasure expected it to be moved with great pomp and ceremony from the City to the Admiral’s flagship. They would hardly be looking for a simple barge with a crew of two. My men had been told to look for a lantern light, one which would swing and clearly flash, and they found it.’
    ‘Who was there?’ Cranston asked.
    ‘According to my men, Mortimer and Culpepper, still waiting for their barge from Southwark. They handed the treasure over, Culpepper and Mortimer signed the indenture. My men withdrew and that was it.’
    ‘And there was nothing wrong?’
    Gaunt pulled a face. ‘Mortimer was deeply uneasy, he kept looking back into the darkness. Culpepper too was suspicious and a little wary. Mortimer comforted him and teased him that he would soon lie with the love of his life amongst the dead.’
    ‘Amongst the dead?’ Athelstan exclaimed, and immediately thought of the cemetery of St Erconwald , the grass growing long and thick amongst the tombs and crosses.
    ‘My retainers left,’ Gaunt continued. ‘I thought all was safe. Just before dawn the Admiral sent a message that the treasure had not arrived. I immediately ordered both banks of the Thames to be scoured. I instructed every official in the kingdom to search for the treasure, and gave a description of it and its keepers to every reeve and harbour master.’
    ‘Nothing,’ Tonnelli almost shouted, ‘nothing at all in either this kingdom or any other; no sign of Culpepper and Mortimer.’
    Cranston recalled Helena Mortimer’s gentle face, but held his peace. He glanced quickly at Athelstan. The friar was a closed book when it came to thoughts and emotions. Nevertheless, Cranston had studied Athelstan most closely, and something about the way he sat, tapping his foot against the tiled floor, the gentle shaking of his head, followed by an abrupt glance at Tonnelli, showed that the Dominican was not satisfied. The Regent was glib because he had been through this story time and again, but he was still cunning enough to sense Athelstan’s reservations.
    ‘What is wrong, Brother? You act as if something is amiss. Don’t you believe me?’
    Gaunt pointed to a lectern on the far corner.
    ‘A book of the Gospels lies over there. I, Regent of England, uncle to the King, will take the most solemn oath. I loved Mortimer as a brother, I owed him my life, a blood debt. I have searched and I have scoured but I have found no trace of him.’
    ‘Do you suspect anyone?’ Athelstan asked.
    ‘I suspect everyone, Brother. Where are the corpses, where is the treasure?’
    ‘You think that Mortimer is dead?’
    ‘Yes, I do. I would