The House of Shadows

with a jewelled hilt in a purple silver sheath; a small reliquary, allegedly containing a piece of the True Cross; a velvet purse, heavy with gold and silver coins; a small Crucifix,- a pouch of sand,- two exquisite mother-of-pearls; scraps of parchment; a calf-skin-bound ledger and a cream-coloured roll of parchment. Athelstan scrutinised these. The first contained the accounts of Sir Stephen’s estates, showing income and expenditure, all neatly entered alongside each other. A quick survey proved how prosperous Sir Stephen was — the sale of livestock, corn, hay, fish and timber, not to mention the income from rents and leases as well as certain mercantile investments.
    ‘Truly a finger in every pie,’ Athelstan murmured.
    The expenditure was equally lavish: offerings for Masses; the foundation of a chantry chapel in a Canterbury church; gifts to retainers at Christmas, spring, midsummer and Michaelmas; precious cloths brought from Flanders; furnishings, the work of craftsmen in London, Canterbury and Dover. The beautiful roll of parchment, soft and wrapped in strips of red silk, was a draft of Sir Stephen’s will. The writing was that of a professional scribe, the Latin that of a scholar, and its clauses, Athelstan concluded, the work of some high-ranking lawyer. According to this, Sir Stephen had left most of his estate and wealth to his children. Only one thing was left to his colleagues, namely this very coffer and all it contained.
    The Dominican pushed the documents away and stared at Bonaventure, curled up comfortably on the floor. ‘Why,’ he murmured to himself, ‘would Sir Stephen bring these documents with him? His accounts, yes, but why his will?’
    Athelstan cleared the table and took out his own writing tray. He studied the memorandum he’d written so quickly during Sir John’s interrogation at the tavern. From outside echoed the muffled cries of the Judas Man’s retinue, now settling down for the night. Athelstan marshalled his thoughts.

    Item Toadflax’s death? An unfortunate accident, death by misadventure Cranston would rule. But what does that prove? That the Judas Man had not been given the fullest description and so was easily confused. A subtle trick by the Misericord which showed both how cunning and suspicious he was.
    Item The murder of the two whores.

    Athelstan paused — he felt guilty. He crossed out the word ‘whores’ and wrote ‘women’.

    Who invited Beatrice and Clarice to the Great Ratting? The way they were summonsed was well known, so the girls were neither suspicious nor wary. Accordingly, they must have known that if they were invited to Master Rolles’ tavern they would do business, otherwise they would have not refused Chandler . But who had asked for them? One of the other knights? The Judas Man? Master Rolles? Even the Misericord? But why should the Judas Man or Master Rolles murder them? The Misericord? Had these two young women tricked him and so paid the price? Most unlikely; the Misericord was a rogue but hardly a killer. Mother Veritable? A woman with a midnight soul, cruel and ruthless,- was she so angry at these two young women plotting to escape that she killed them? But why should the whore queen remove the source of such rich profits? The knights?

    Athelstan rubbed his nose with the end of the quill.

    All of these, or one of them, could be the killer, but why? Are the murders of these two young women linked to the mystery of their mother’s disappearance?

    Athelstan suppressed a shiver. ‘Like time repeating itself,’ he whispered. Guinevere the Golden had tried to escape, only to disappear. Athelstan nursed a deep suspicion that the poor woman had been killed. Now the same fate had befallen her daughters.

    Item The death of Sir Stephen Chandler? He was a fat, prosperous knight preparing to bathe himself and enjoy a cup of claret. Who poisoned that wine? Not the jug, but the cup. Which means that the assassin must have entered that chamber and mixed a powerful poison either just before or just after the wine was poured. Master Rolles? No, too obvious. So who?

    Athelstan closed his eyes and tried to imagine that chamber. If someone came in, they would have to act very quickly to place powder in a goblet whilst that sharp-eyed knight was preparing for his bath. One mistake, the smallest of errors, and the murderer would have trapped himself.

    So how was it done? And what did Sir Stephen feel so guilty about? Did he kill those young