The House of Shadows

down.’
    Margot, rheumy-eyed, peered up at him. ‘I’ve seen you say Mass, Father. I come here sometimes on the Great Feasts. Moleskin here nearly called me “Fat Margot“.’ She tapped her bony cheeks and moved a wisp of white hair from her brow, tucking it under her black hat. ‘But that was years ago; now I’m as thin as a wand.’
    Athelstan took her back to where the parish council had met and let the old woman warm her fingers over the brazier.
    ‘Margot,’ Athelstan opened his purse, took out a coin and dropped it gently into the old woman’s hand, ‘that’s for your trouble. You’re the widow of one of the boatmen who disappeared on the night of the great robbery.’
    The old woman’s eyes filled with tears as she sat down on a stool.
    ‘Godric was his name, a fine man, Brother. He left that afternoon. I’ve never seen him since, though we found his boat further down the river, caught in some reeds, it was.’
    ‘In Southwark?’ Athelstan asked.
    ‘No, no, where the river bends, going down to Westminster . Just the barge, Father. No pole, nothing. It was as if the hand of some ghostly giant had picked it up and emptied men and goods into the river.’
    ‘Was there any mark of violence — a bloodstain?’
    Margot shook her head. ‘A long, low craft, Brother, built of fine wood, with benches and a small locker at each end for Godric and his partner to store their goods. Painted black, it was, with a high prow and stern. Godric called it the Glory of the Thames .’
    ‘Did your man ever tell you,’ Athelstan asked, ‘why he had been hired that day?’
    ‘He wasn’t hired, Father.’
    ‘Pardon? I thought he was.’
    ‘No, no.’ Margot shook her head fiercely. ‘Godric had been paid well by those two knights. All he told me was that the barge had been hired, but not him.’
    ‘Oh, so they were to bring their barge to the Oyster Wharf and hand it over?’
    ‘I think so. I’m not sure where the knights took it, but Godric was to remain at the wharf until they returned. He didn’t know why, but the knights were respectable so he trusted them. They’d also paid him good silver.’
    She paused as Malachi came through the side door of the church. He raised his hand at Athelstan and walked across to the Lady Chapel.
    ‘Continue,’ Athelstan asked.
    ‘I’ve told you all I know, Brother. My man was paid good silver, he was to hire out his barge and wait at the Oyster Wharf . He left just before sunset; I’ve never seen or heard from him again.’
    Athelstan thanked Moleskin and Margot, and when they’d left, he sat down in the sanctuary chair. What Margot had told him possessed a logic of its own. Culpepper and Mortimer would never tell anyone what they were doing. And the money given to the bargemen? That must have come from either the Admiral of the Fleet, or perhaps from John of Gaunt himself. Athelstan rose and was about to walk across to the Lady Chapel when the door crashed open and Cranston came in.
    ‘Brother, I have news.’
    Athelstan put a finger to his lips and gestured with his head toward the Lady Chapel.
    Cranston peered through the murky light. ‘Just the person!’ he exclaimed. ‘Brother Malachi, a word.’
    The Benedictine crossed himself and came down.
    ‘Brother Malachi,’ Cranston gestured to the stool, ‘I’ll come swiftly to the point. I’ve just visited Helena Mortimer in Poor Jewry.’
    ‘And, Sir John?’
    ‘You’ve visited her as well. You could have told me!’
    ‘Why, of course, her brother was a close comrade of Richard. It’s logical, isn’t it, to seek such a woman out? Yet, she knows nothing—’
    ‘Did you hire the Judas Man?’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Yes, I did discuss such a possibility with Mistress Mortimer. Again, it’s a matter of logic, Sir John. I mean, to hire a man hunter to find a man.’ He spread his hands. ‘My Lord Coroner, what I have done, to quote Holy Scripture, has been done in the full light of day.’
    Cranston’s shoulders slumped. He could tell from the Benedictine’s composure that he wasn’t hiding anything.
    ‘Did you know,’ Cranston sat down on a stool, ‘that Mortimer was a henchman of John of Gaunt?’
    ‘A retainer, perhaps, but there was nothing significant in that. His Grace was deeply upset by my brother’s disappearance, as well as that of Edward Mortimer. Perhaps Sir Maurice hasn’t told you, but John of Gaunt instigated the most thorough search for the missing knights. He