The House of Shadows

Hainault, what he termed a ‘Rotulus’, a small wheel with a handle on the side. The roll of vellum was attached to a clasp on the rim and the wheel cranked round so that a searcher could scrutinise the different membranes twined to each other.
    ‘If a letter is sealed by the Great or Privy Seal,’ Hubert pompously announced, ‘it is copied and brought here. Oh, I heard you before, Sir John, I remember the year of the Great Stink, and who can forget the robbery of the Lombard treasure?’ He creased his face into a look of sharp condemnation. ‘I was in the Chancery at that time; letters of proclamation were issued, north, south, east and west. Come, I’ll show you.’
    He searched amongst the coffers and brought out a small roll of parchment, its contents summarised in Latin shorthand on the back. He inserted this on the Rotulus and Athelstan began his search.
    ‘Very curious,’ Athelstan remarked, turning the wooden handle. ‘There’s no doubt His Grace the Regent,’ he nodded at Hubert, ‘although he wasn’t that then, there’s no doubt about his rage.’
    ‘Oh, very true,’ the clerk intoned. ‘Brother, I saw him the day after the robbery. Raging like a panther he was. Eyes bright with anger, he lashed out with his tongue.’
    ‘You’re sure of that?’ Athelstan asked.
    ‘Brother, I’m a skilled clerk. I have inscribed the letters of the old King, when he was lying in bed, ill with myriad ailments. On that day His Grace was angry. If he had caught the perpetrators he would have hoist them from the highest gallows.’
    Athelstan, Cranston standing beside him, continued the search.
    ‘Most remarkable.’ Sir John pointed to one document. ‘The ships weren’t riding at anchor off Southwark but between the river fleet and St Paul’s Wharf.’
    ‘And look,’ Athelstan pointed to a line, ‘there’s no reference, well at first, to the Oyster Wharf . Simply to a great robbery along the river.’ He turned the handle again, moving the document forward. ‘Only a month after the crime is the Oyster Wharf mentioned. Remember what I said, Sir John, about Archimedes. We must go to the right place, and now we have it.’
    He paused as Cranston took a deep draught from the miraculous wine skin, offered it to Athelstan, who shook his head, and then to Hubert who, despite his size, surprised Cranston with the generous swig he took.
    ‘What it means, Sir John,’ Athelstan continued, ‘and we shall have to ask His Grace this question, is why was the Oyster Wharf mentioned, when all the evidence indicates that the robbery took place on the south bank of the river, but much further down? Imagine, Sir John, if you can, the Southwark bank. You pass the Bishop of Winchester’s inn, the stews, the washing places, and then what?’
    Cranston closed his eyes. ‘Muddy banks,’ he replied, ‘marshy fields, giving way to mud and shale. Lonely places.’ He opened his eyes. ‘The ideal spot.’
    ‘Exactly, Sir John, I think that’s where the robbery took place.’
    Hubert the clerk was listening intently.
    ‘Ah, I see what you mean,’ he muttered. ‘By St Mary and all the angels, this is interesting.’
    ‘It will become common knowledge soon enough.’ Athelstan stood back. ‘Right, Sir John, in that fertile mind of yours, imagine the treasure barge, leaving the Tower. It goes directly across the river, following the bank along the Southwark side, past the Oyster Wharf , down to this lonely spot. Culpepper and Mortimer are waiting with their own barge. They use lanterns or torches to bring the party from the Tower in to where they are waiting. The treasure is exchanged. In the flickering light of the torches, Culpepper hastily signs the indenture.’
    Athelstan returned to the Rotulus and found the indenture. ‘Only one word, thesaurum, the Latin word for treasure, indicated the great wealth he received. The document had been drawn up by some clerk. The party from the Tower probably took writing implements with them. Culpepper scrawled his name, “Ricardus Culpepper“, with a cross beside it, and beneath that, “Edwardus Mortimer“, who drew a roughly etched lion, his family symbol.’ Athelstan stared at the signatures. Something about them pricked his memory, but for the life of him, he couldn’t place it. ‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘the treasure is exchanged, the Tower barge leaves. I’m not too sure when the bargemen arrived, but there, on that dark lonely bank, the demon struck.