Three days later Corbett had the Tower cooks put some pastries, sweetmeats and wine into his saddlebag and, after a few words with Swynnerton and Neville, made his way out of the postern gate of the Tower to his meeting with Alice. He had asked to meet her in the fields just outside the north-east corner of the Tower amongst the Roman ruins which criss-crossed the fields with their whitened skeletal walls, the relics of faded ancient glory. Alice was already there, standing by one of the walls, wrapped in a fur-lined cloak which covered the green taffeta dress beneath, her long black hair falling to her shoulders and a red headband decorated with gold stars circling her forehead. Corbett could only secretly marvel at her beauty. He kissed her warmly on the brow and felt her arms melt round his body. He stood there, her dark head on his chest and stared across the ruins. Then he held her at arm's length and teased her about arriving on time. She laughed and flirted back though he noticed her eyes were guarded, wary as if conscious of something wrong. Corbett spread the cleanest blanket he had managed to find and they sat, their backs to one of the ruined walls, while they enjoyed the warmth of a strong spring sun.
They ate and drank, laughed and talked until Alice, almost as if she was a player in some mystery drama, turned and asked how his investigation was proceeding. Corbett sipped the wine from his cup while his other hand rested in Alice's lap. "Duket, " he began slowly, "was murdered. " He felt no reaction from Alice, so he dug into his purse and pulled out the long silken threads. "Oh, I forgot, " he added smilingly, "when you undid the clasp of my cloak these strands got caught in the hook. I think they're from your gloves. I am sorry, I must have ruined them. " He dropped the threads into the small black silk-clad palm of her hand.
Alice looked at them and stared at Corbett before bursting into peals of laughter. "You have not brought me here surely, " she teased, "to apologize for ruining a glove? I have many others. " She leaned across and kissed him gently on the cheek, her lips were like the finest gauze or silk.
Corbett gripped his cup tighter and turned to look into her eyes full of dark laughter. "No, " he murmured. "I did not bring you here to talk about silk gloves. " He stretched his legs out, relaxed and sighed.
"Duket, " Corbett began again, "was a goldsmith and a homosexual, but also a loyal Londoner and a faithful subject of the King. However, his secret longings and dark fantasies led him to Crepyn, a moneylender, a secret admirer of the dead de Montfort and a leader of the banned Populares party here in the city. Crepyn was also a sorcerer, involved in black magic, a member, maybe even the leader of a secret coven which called itself the Pentangle. A group long active in this country, I understand there are similar covens and societies in the East. " Corbett felt Alice stiffen beside him as if she was shocked by these revelations.
"How do you know this?" she asked.
Corbett grimaced. "It's not a question of knowing. It is only a guess, a reasoned one, a logical deduction, as my old lecturer in philosophy would say. Anyway, " he continued, "another logical deduction is that Crepyn got to know of
Duket's dark secret. He may have seduced him, he certainly seduced Duket's sister. He drew Duket like some helpless fish into his net by pandering to all his needs. You see, he needed Duket for his gold, as he did a number of goldsmiths in the city. With this gold, Crepyn and his party intended to lead a revolt in the city. His coven were as opposed to Edward as they were to our sovereign's ancestors. Some of whom, like William Rufus, they destroyed in the same way they intended to kill our present sovereign lord, with an arrow from an assassin's bow, on the thirty-first of March as the King entered the city from Woodstock, making his way through Newgate and down Cheapside. "
"No! Oh, no!" Alice's face was ashen and drawn, her wild eyes staring at him. "Crepyn!" she exclaimed. "An assassin! A regicide!" Corbett glanced at Alice and put his fingers gently on her lips before lightly stroking her cheek.
"Oh, yes, " he continued. "Crepyn was an assassin and the arrow was to be shot from the tower of Saint Mary Le Bow, the same church in which our poor goldsmith was hanged. However, " he paused to fill his wine goblet. "However, Duket, though he played the part assigned to him, was no assassin. He must have learnt, guessed or deduced what Crepyn and his coven intended to do, although ignorant of the actual details. This is where things went terribly wrong for both of them. On the day of the murder, Duket and Crepyn met in Cheapside. I think Duket became hysterical with fear. Crepyn probably tried to reason with him but Duket drew his dagger and stabbed him through the heart. Duket then panicked. He knew he was in danger so he fled for sanctuary. "
"To Saint Mary Le Bow?" Alice interjected.
Corbett nodded. "Yes, of all places, Saint Mary Le Bow, for how was Duket to know, not being a member of Crepyn's inner circle, that Saint Mary Le Bow was one of the Pentangle's meeting-places and its rector, Roger Bellet, a prominent member of its secret hierarchy? Bellet, of course, gave him sanctuary but immediately contacted the rest of the coven. They decided that Duket had to die as they could not allow him to come to trial and blab everything to get a King's pardon or be released on a plea of self-defence. "
Corbett stopped and plucked at the short, fresh spring grass. He looked sideways up at Alice's face but she was sitting rigid with her back against the crumbling wall, gazing out over the fields. "So, " he continued, "the coven was alerted and now we come to the two fickle elements in our existence, time and human will. A number of people converged on Saint Mary Le Bow. The first was a boy, Simon, an apprentice during the day, so Ranulf told me, but by night he worked as a tapster and bumboy in a secret drinking place for homosexuals. He probably loved Duket and, when the news of Crepyn's murder and Duket's flight swept through Cheapside, Simon came running. He could not enter the church as there must have been others standing in the entrance so, being of a slight build, he managed to squeeze through one of the windows. "
Corbett paused for a short while "We can only conjecture on what happened next for Simon too is dead, murdered, but I suspect he and Duket moved over to the shadowed recesses of the sanctuary. There, the boy fell asleep while Duket went back to the security of the Blessed Chair. The Watch then arrived. Bellet locked the door from the outside while Duket bolted it from within according to custom. Before the priest left the church, he gave the man in sanctuary the usual meal, a loaf of bread and a jug of wine, and Duket should have stayed there safe and sound until the morning. Of course he did not. He was murdered!"
"Why murder?" Alice interrupted. The question was clipped, her voice terse with tension.
"Oh, that was obvious. Why should Duket commit suicide when he had fled for protection? Why didn't he open his veins? He had a dagger and there were more convenient places to hang himself from besides that iron bar. In fact it was that iron bar which convinced me that he had been murdered. "
Alice leaned forward, her hands clasped, resting on her knees. "Why the bar?"
"Oh, it was too high, " Corbett replied. "Or rather Duket was too short. You see I measured his corpse, no way could he reach that bar. Then the chair was too clean, almost polished as if the person who had stood on it had been too thorough. Either that or they had rags tied round their boots. "
"Rags!" Alice turned her face towards him and Corbett almost jerked back, the laughter had gone from her eyes, only a deep, glittering malice stared back at him.
"Yes, rags, " his eyes slid away from her and he felt beneath his cloak for the handle of his dagger. "The murderers wore rags on their boots to muffle any sound. "
"Then how did they get in? You said that the church was bolted from inside, " Alice snapped.
"Oh, it was but the murderers never got in. They were allowed in sometime in the afternoon before the ward Watch arrived, probably whilst Duket was busy elsewhere in the sanctuary. They came and hid in the shadowed recesses of the entrance. Duket never suspected and, of course, the Watch would never dream of looking there. When it was dark the murderers struck, quietly gliding up the nave, they seized Duket, now drugged by the laced wine given to him by Bellet and, using the Blessed Chair, hanged him before going back to hide in the dark shelter of the doorway. They probably gagged Duket to ensure his silence, hence the strands of cloth caught between his teeth, and pinioned his arms, hence the bruises just above the elbow. The murderers only made one real mistake, they never knew the boy was there and I suspect the coven arrived in the church after he had got through the window and when Duket and the boy were engaged in the far corner of the sanctuary out of their view. Nevertheless, the coven kept a watch and when they saw me meet Simon, they correctly deduced that he must know something and had him killed. "
Corbett stopped and glanced at Alice, but still she sat rigid almost ignoring him. "Anyway, " he continued, "the next morning the door was forced by the Watch under the supervision of a very garrulous priest who ensured the guards concentrated on poor Duket while the coven simply slipped out into the deserted streets of Cheapside. "
Alice turned, both her hands on Corbett's arm, her face alabaster white with a sheen of sweat on her brow. "But the murderers?" she asked, "Who are they?"
Corbett moved a wisp of hair from her forehead which had escaped from her headband and ran his fingers down the side of her face. "The boy Simon, " he murmured, "before he was killed said that he saw two of the figures. A giant and a dwarf. You see, the murderers didn't know that he was there. " Corbett looked directly at Alice. "The giant was Peter, Alice, you know that. He was there, he fastened the noose like the hangman he is, professionally, tying the knot under Duket's left ear. Duket did not do that. A goldsmith about to commit suicide would never have done that. You know that Peter was there, Alice, because you were there with him!"
He touched Alice's hand and felt the ice of her skin. "You, small, cloaked and hooded, were what Simon called 'the dwarf. You would be, beside Peter. I thought the same when I saw you last at The Mitre. I thought there was something strange when you called Ranulf my bodyguard
but Ranulf was never introduced as that. He left The Mitre as soon as he saw Peter. So, Alice, how did you know?"
Alice turned her back on him, head bowed, her hands clenched. "You are still guessing, Master Clerk, " she murmured. "You have no proof, no evidence that I was there. "
"Oh, yes, I have, " Corbett answered. "Or rather you now have it!" Alice whirled round, her eyes dilated with fury and rage, the skin of her face stretched like gauze across her cheekbones. She looked older, wilder, her lips drawn back almost curled with anger but Corbett simply stared at her. "I gave it to you, " he said, "the black silk threads!"
"But they were caught on the clasp of your brooch!" Alice almost shrieked at him.
"No, " Corbett dug into his wallet and drew out more black silk threads. "These are the ones caught on my brooch. The threads you have were taken from the rope tied round Duket's neck. "
Alice now knelt on the ground, her gown billowing round her like a cloak. Only her face, small, white and naked, betrayed a mixture of anger and terror. She raised her arms and slowly removed the gloves from her hands as if peeling an apple. She put them down and stretched out her hands, palms up. "You know about these?" she asked.
Corbett looked at the small, bright purple inverted cross on her palms which looked like brand marks recently burnt on. "Yes, " he answered. "The marks of Fitz-Osbert. I guessed you had them but Couville… " he looked at her. "You will not know him but he conducted a search of letters, charters and writs and drew up a report. You wish to read it?"
Alice shook her head. "Why should I?" she replied. "I know its contents better than you. I was married to Thomas atte Bowe, vintner of Cheapside, but I was born in Southwark. My maiden name was Dachert but, secretly, I always called myself Alice Fitz-Osbert, my mother's name. She had the marks as I had. She told me about our family, the persecution of our great ancestor, William Fitz-Osbert, and others by the House of Plantagenet. The Fitz-Osberts, my uncles and cousins, were ardent supporters of de Montfort and fought with him to the very end, dying with him in the slaughter at Evesham. " Alice traced the mark on her right hand. "From the beginning I was initiated into these mysteries and got to know and love the Lord Lucifer! I used my wealth to blend the Fitz-Osbert hatred for the Plantagenets with that of the followers of de Montfort and others of the Populares party. I built up the Pentangle, an intimate, close organization which worked together, though the identity of each individual was known only to me. I am 'The Hooded One', only you and one other know that, the rest thought I was a man. I plotted against the Plantagenet, destroyed his spy, spread dissension and was responsible for Duket's death. All for a dream and a reality you could not begin to understand. "
"Nonsense!" Corbett shouted and got to his feet. "Incantations, spells, dancing in circles, heathen rites and now treason. Is it worth being hung in chains above a fire at Smithfield?" He glared at Alice. "That, " he almost spat the words out, "is the punishment for sorcerers and traitors!"
Alice smoothed the creases on the front of her dress, her hands fluttering like small white birds hovering over a dark green field. She looked up at Corbett and he realized that she was calmer, the colour had returned to her face, but the light and laughter had gone from her eyes. "Your religion, " she replied, "may matter to you, mine certainly does to me. It is older than Christianity, was practised here even before the Romans came, but the church has driven it underground. "
"Then why the treason?" Corbett asked.
Alice shrugged. "King Edward has to die. He has smashed the Welsh and done great damage to the old religion, its shrines and graves in the west just like he did in Palestine. He was hated for killing de Montfort and crushing the Populares movement here in London! He deserves to die! He would have done, when he entered the city. Master bowmen, stationed on the tower of Saint Mary Le Bow, would have brought him down. Then we would have seized our arms stored around that church and risen in rebellion. "
Alice almost smiled. "We nearly succeeded but for Duket and his foolish murder of Crepyn. It was not that we mourned Crepyn though he was one of us, but more that Duket had to be killed. We know he suspected our true aims and might have bartered this knowledge for a pardon for Crepyn's death. Perhaps he deliberately chose Saint Mary Le Bow to draw the attention of the government. Bellet was a member of the Pentangle, his cemetery held stores of arms. Savel, the royal spy, discovered that and died. So we could not let Duket live. He threatened us all!"
"And me?" Corbett asked.
Alice's eyes slid away from his. "I don't really know. " Her voice was so low that he could hardly hear it. "As the Pentangle, indeed, as The Hooded One, I wanted you dead but, as an individual, I was anxious about the sentence passed and, so, so relieved to see you always walk away unscathed. The Pentangle, not I, decided that you must die. Twice, we tried in Thames Street, then we waited for you outside Saint Katherine's but the boy was early, he died and his corpse drew a crowd. When Bellet was arrested, we knew you would go to his house. But each time you were saved. We thought you had a charmed life and wished that you were one of us. "
"You are lying!" Corbett was almost shouting. "Somebody gave you information about where I was and what I was doing! Who was it?"
Alice beckoned with her hand and, when Corbett drew close, quietly murmured a few words into his ear. Corbett stared at her, smiled coldly and drew away. She could have told him outright but, getting close to her, he felt her soft lips near his face, smelt the perfume of her hair and body and realized he could still lose his soul in such a soft deadly trap.
Corbett shook his head and scuffed at the grass with the toe of his boot.
"Is the rest as I described?" he asked.
"Yes, " Alice smiled tightly, like a little girl admitting she was wrong when caught out in mischief.
"And the others?" he queried.
She looked at him sharply, the smile had gone. "Your King will have to hunt them down, Master Clerk, " she snapped.
"That will be easy. They are not far away, " Corbett murmured. "There are those at The Mitre, one will break. "