The House of Shadows

treasure was being transported, they would certainly know when it arrived and where it had gone. So, John of Gaunt and the Admiral of the Fleet decided the treasure should be taken by barge, during the night across river and along the south bank of the Thames . This meant the route of the treasure barge, its destination and the time it arrived would remain a secret. Barges from the Tower go back and forth across the river to Southwark all the time. Once across the Thames , it was to be collected by two knights and transported to the flagship. Now the bargemen handed that treasure over to two knights whom Gaunt trusted.’ Matthias pulled a face. ‘Well, at the time they were: Richard Culpepper and Edward Mortimer. Ostensibly they were chosen by Lord Belvers, but John of Gaunt really made the decision.’
    ‘Why,’ Cranston asked, ‘didn’t they have a military escort?’
    ‘To attract as little attention as possible.’
    ‘Why were Culpepper and Mortimer chosen?’
    ‘Because,’ Matthias sighed, ‘they were trusted by everyone, especially His Grace.’
    Cranston bit on the skin of his thumb. Like everything which came from the Regent, Cranston sensed Matthias’ story was a mixture of truth and lies. The coroner gazed quickly around the tap room and edged closer.
    ‘Master Matthias,’ he whispered, ‘let’s cut to the chase. How do I know that the treasure wasn’t stolen by the Regent himself?’
    Matthias smiled. ‘His Grace predicted you might say that. Two things.’ Matthias held up his hand. ‘First, the captain of his guard brought back to the Tower an indenture, signed by Culpepper. Second, for months after the robbery, the finger of blame was pointed at my master. He took a great oath that he knew nothing about the great robbery.’
    ‘In a word,’ Cranston replied, ‘your master was furious.’
    ‘Yes, and he still is,’ Matthias agreed. ‘He has not forgotten what happened twenty years ago, and still makes careful enquiries, yet he has found nothing.’
    ‘The woman,’ Cranston declared, ‘the courtesan known as Guinevere the Golden. They say she was glimpsed here and there.’
    ‘Rumours.’ Matthias shook his head. ‘Stories, people eager for the reward. A large reward, Sir John, a hundred pounds, not to mention a pardon for any crime.’
    Matthias sniffed.
    ‘His Grace the Regent has heard about the killings at the Night in Jerusalem , the sudden and mysterious death of Sir Stephen, so his curiosity is pricked. He wants to know if these events are somehow connected with the Lombard treasure. He asks me to ask you to remember that.’
    ‘Whom does he suspect?’ Cranston asked.
    ‘He often wonders where Culpepper and Mortimer fled, or where they may have hidden the treasure.’
    ‘Whom does he suspect?’ Cranston repeated, gripping Matthias’ arm.
    ‘There’s a man sheltering in St Erconwald’s Church, protected by your secretarius, Athelstan the Dominican. Did you know that twenty years ago the Misericord’s father and Master Rolles were the closest of friends? That the Misericord often absconded from his school master at St Paul’s to frequent Rolles’ tavern? His Grace wonders if the Misericord, a born rogue, knows anything of this twenty-year-old mischief. Is that why someone hired a hunter as ruthless as the Judas Man to track him down and bring him to justice? Is it because the Misericord knows something about the Lombard treasure?’
    Matthias got to his feet and picked up his cloak; he pointed at the bread and honey.
    ‘You should eat that, Sir John. It would be a sin to waste it,’ he leaned down, ‘as it would His Grace’s favour.’
    When Matthias had left, Cranston picked up the bread and honey and chewed it thoughtfully. He wondered how much of what he had been told was the truth. The ale-wife came over. Cranston absent-mindedly thanked her, paid the bill and left the tavern, going down to the river to hire Master Moleskin’s barge for passage to Southwark...

    Athelstan had risen early to collect bracken for the fire from the small copse at the far end of the cemetery. He greeted his parishioners and other members of the posse as charitably as he could, and tried to distract himself by admiring the wind-washed sky, which promised a fine day. He acknowledged their shouts of greeting, although he noticed Watkin and Pike kept their backs to him. He returned to the kitchen, built up the fire, washed his hands and settled down to compose himself for