Corbett agreed, Ranulf's words making him all the more anxious about Alice's safety. He turned and made his way along Cheapside, turning the problem over in his mind with Ranulf almost running behind, quietly cursing as he tried to keep up with his new protector's long-legged stride.
Of course, at Thames Street, Corbett had difficulties with the lady of the house, who looked suspiciously at Ranulf and rather strangely at Corbett trying to persuade her that his new companion was his assistant. Ranulf did not help matters by grinning evilly at the woman but eventually Corbett and her reached an agreement; Ranulf would be given an even smaller garret at the back of the house but until it was cleared, he would have to sleep on the floor in Corbett's room. Ranulf seemed happy enough with the arrangement though, when they reached Corbett's room, he produced a bunch of keys that he had furtively stolen from the lady's belt.
Corbett went down to return them with a rather lame excuse and then came back to give his crestfallen assistant a stern lecture which ranged from honesty to the horror of The Elms. Then he told Ranulf what business he was involved in, watching the boy closely for any reaction. But, apart from remembering Peter at The Mitre as a former hangman, Ranulf knew nothing of Duket's murder. He recognized Crepyn's name and said he had a reputation of being a powerful man with one foot in the respectable world of the Guildhall and the other in the dirty gutter of London's underworld.
Corbett also questioned the youth on his earlier life, being surprised at his speech which betrayed a thin veneer of education. Ranulf's explanation was short and brief. His parents had been respectable people from Southwark who had died in one of the many epidemics which ravaged the city. He had been left as an orphan in the care of an elderly aunt who was also the mistress of the local priest. The latter had given him some schooling before Ranulf threw off any attempt to control him, running wild with gangs of young men before slipping into crime and the many opportunities it presented in the city. The rest, Ranulf concluded, Corbett knew.
The clerk looked at the freshly scrubbed face of the youth who should, if justice had had its way, now be hanging by his neck at The Elms, black-faced, tongue protruding, body broken. Corbett smiled. He was glad he had saved Ranulf and threw him a cloak, telling him to sleep for tomorrow, he promised, would be a busy day.
Eleven
The next morning Corbett nudged Ranulf awake and sent him down to collect water and breakfast. Corbett dressed and opened the shutters of his window and, though there was a faint sparkling silver on the roofs and eaves of the surrounding houses, the sun had broken through the early morning frost. It would be a bright day. Corbett wanted to leave the matter in hand and go down to visit Alice but then he remembered Burnell, cursed quietly and, opening his trunk, lifted out his writing-tray with a sheaf of freshly scrubbed vellum and placed them gently on the lid of the trunk. Ranulf returned, grinning wickedly, and Corbett guessed that he had clashed yet again with the mistress of the house; her sullen arrogant manner seemed to bring out the worst in the youth.
Corbett washed and made Ranulf do the same before they broke their fast on the weak ale and rye bread the boy had brought up. As they ate Corbett outlined what he wanted Ranulf to do, gather supplies, collect the horse Corbett had stabled in Cheapside, return it to Westminster and then carry out a secret task which made the young man's face go white with fear.
"What are you trying to do?" he screeched. "Send me back to Newgate and a hempen collar!"
Corbett reassured him that all would be well while he would protect him from any consequence. "Though, " he added wryly, "you are too professional to be caught. "
The boy looked balefully at Corbett, muttered some obscenity and was still murmuring when Corbett opened the door and pushed him downstairs into the street.
Corbett then sat on the bed with the writing-tray on his knee and he thought for a while before starting on his report.
"The death of Lawrence Duket. Date of death 13th or 14th January 1284. Place: Saint Mary Le Bow, Cheapside. Lawrence Duket was a goldsmith who lived off the Walbrook. His business was moderately prosperous. A respected citizen, a member of the Guilds of Goldsmiths. He was not married, had no family except a sister. There is nothing to link him with any secret organization in the city. To all appearances, he was certainly no member or supporter of the Populares party. His relationship with Ralph Crepyn is tenuous. The latter was a man who rose from obscurity to the rank of Alderman in the city. He was a notorious moneylender and gained most of his wealth in the money market. He had sympathies for the dead traitor, Simon de Montfort. He had links with the secret Populares party and even more shadowy ties with the criminal fraternity in the city. It would appear that about midday on the 13th January Crepyn met Duket in Cheapside, sharp words were exchanged, blows struck. Duket, surprisingly for such a placid man, suddenly drew his dagger and, either by luck or mischance, struck Crepyn a mortal blow, driving his dagger deep into the moneylender's throat. He then withdrew the dagger and, before the hue and cry could be raised, fled along Cheapside into the churchyard of Saint Mary Le Bow and managed to grasp the handle of the church and so claim sanctuary. The Rector of the aforesaid church, Roger Bellet, granted him this, leading him up into the sanctuary and the safekeeping of the Blessed Chair The priest, according to law, provided him with a candle, flint, a jug of wine and a penny loaf of bread. The said priest also according to custom, had the church locked by himself on the outside and bolted within by Duket himself
There was no hue and cry or posse sent to the church as the city law officers had not time to arrange this because of the proximity of Saint Mary Le Bow to the scene of the homicide However, the city Ward did set a guard outside the door of the church not so much to ensure anyone broke in but to ensure that Duket did not attempt to flee by night. The said guard later reported that no one approached the door, nor did they hear any disturbance in the churchyard during the night. They kept their watch until Prime when the Rector came to the church and unlocked it However, he could not open the church nor rouse Duket by shouting or pounding on the door. Accordingly, he and the Watch used a log lying nearby to force the door open. Inside, the scene was as follows. There was no mark of violence or disturbance in the entrance, or nave of the church. In the sanctuary, however, the Blessed Chair had been moved far to the right beneath the large window. There are two of these windows, either side of the sanctuary, each has an iron bar projecting out beside it with a curled hook on the end to hang garlands or sanctuary lamps. On that particular morning, the one on the right bore the dangling corpse of Lawrence Duket.
It would appear that Duket had gone down to the entrance of the church, taken some disused rope from the bell tower, gone back to the sanctuary and, moving the chair over, hanged himself from the metal bar. The Coroner was called with the Jury of the Ward to examine the corpse. They questioned the guard placed on the church and accepted their statement that no one entered or left the church during the night, nor did they see or hear anything suspicious The Coroner put them on oath that they fulfilled their duties faithfully and conscientiously. I now believe they spoke the truth. The Coroner and Jury also examined the Rector of the church who claims he knows nothing of Duket's death. The Coroner accepted this but I have great doubts about the man Nothing I can prove but a feeling of deep disquiet. Duket had died by strangulation, there was a deep purple ring about his neck caused by the rope and a bruise beneath his left ear caused by the knot in the noose. His body bore no other marks except bruises on the forearm and a shred of linen caught between his teeth. The Coroner noted all this as did I when I exhumed the body from the city ditch.
The Coroner and Jury also investigated the cause of the quarrel between Duket and Crepyn in Cheapside. They believe it was caused over Jean Duket, Lawrence's sister, whom, it was alleged, had been seduced by Crepyn. I have questioned the aforesaid Jean and I believe the quarrel did not concern her. The Coroner concluded that Duket had been guilty of the unlawful homicide of Ralph Crepyn and had fled for sanctuary to Saint Mary Le Bow where he had committed suicide
Do I accept such a verdict? If Duket had survived he could have done two things. First, sued in the King's court either by himself or through an attorney that his attack on Crepyn had been in self-defence. If such a plea had been accepted, Duket would have received a pardon. Secondly, if Duket had not pleaded in the courts, or had and had his plea rejected, he would have had to abjure the realm. This would have meant walking on the King's highway, carrying a small cross, to the nearest port. In this case, the Steelyard or some other dock along the Thames to secure passage abroad. In view of Duket's wealth, this would not have been too difficult and the same wealth would have ensured a comfortable exile until he secured his safe return So why did he commit suicide?
First, to escape the hangman's noose? However, he was in sanctuary and had other more palatable choices open to him as I have described above. Secondly, to avoid being adjudged a felon for the death of Ralph Crepyn and so risk all his property being judged forfeit to the King? But first he would have to be convicted as such and, secondly, he had no kin except a sister with whom he was scarcely close Thirdly, that his mind became sick and he could not cope with the guilt of what he had done? Or, he was overcome with dread and fear of Crepyn's associates who would surely exact revenge? This might prove the more acceptable solution if I could find that Crepyn did have close associates for he seems to have been a lonely man, bereft of family, friends or close colleagues.
Nevertheless, I do believe that Lawrence Duket was murdered on the night of 13th January 1284 by person or persons unknown. First, I cannot accept that a man who fled for safety in the sanctuary of a church, (who therefore wanted to protect his life) would later decide to end it in such a macabre way. Secondly, and more importantly, Duket could not have stood upon the chair and tied the noose around the projecting iron bar. I have measured the man's corpse and have found he was too short. He could simply not reach the bar above him to tie the knot. To conclude, I believe Duket was murdered but many questions remain unanswered.
Item: For what reason?
Item: By whom?
Item: How did they manage to enter the church and leave it without using the door? The priest could have let them in but they would still have needed Duket's co-operation from within. They would also have had to either suborn the watch, distract or overcome them, and there is not a shred of evidence to indicate this.
Item: The murderers could have been given entrance to the church by someone else but that person would have had to have a key to the outside lock or stolen the Rector's yet there is no evidence for this.
Item: The only way any person could have entered the church was by the side door but this was firmly locked and has been for years, there was no sign or evidence of it being opened Another way would have been through the windows, but most of these are too small. The large ones were firmly clasped and could only have been opened from the inside. None of these windows showed signs of being forced. There is no indication or sign of any secret entrance to the church.
Item: If person or persons unknown had secured entrance to the church their movements would have aroused the attention of the watch. Surely Duket would have resisted and screamed for help and not gone to his death as quietly as a lamb to the slaughter?
Item: What were the black silk threads still tangled in the noose, the piece of linen caught between Duket's teeth, and who inflicted the bruises on Duket's forearms?
Corbett finished his report and re-read it, studying his conclusions carefully. The clear picture he had constructed a few weeks ago was there – Duket was murdered though Corbett glumly realized that he had made little or no progress on how, by whom and for what reason. He was still poring over the manuscript when a crashing on the wooden stairs outside startled him. The door was flung open as Ranulf burst in.
"No wonder, " Corbett sarcastically commented, "you were so unsuccessful as a housebreaker. You're as gentle as a charging war horse!"
Ranulf, red-faced, breathlessly apologized and, putting the supplies he had bought on the end of Corbett's bed, slumped down against the far wall to rest himself.
Corbett watched him for a while. "Were you successful?" he eventually asked.
Ranulf nodded. "Oh, yes, I broke in to both Duket's and Crepyn's houses. They were both deserted, both stripped to the bone if not by the executors, then the professional thieves who always mark down such buildings for investigation! Duket's had nothing, absolutely nothing and I only found this in Crepyn's house."
Ranulf brought from his wallet a tattered, yellow piece of parchment and handed it to Corbett, who studied it carefully. The drawing was quite clear, a simple, crudely devised pentangle under an arch with a date, as one would find on the end of a letter, "30 April 1283". Almost a year ago. Corbett threw the piece of parchment behind him. "Is that all?"
"That is all!" Ranulf glared at him. "I risked my neck going into both houses. For what? A dirty piece of parchment which you immediately toss away!"
Corbett smiled. "No, I am grateful. Look, " he handed the youth a few coins. "I want you to get something to eat and, at the same time, find out something for me. " He raised his hand to quell the expected objection from Ranulf. "It is not as dangerous as the last but more important. You say you know the underworld?" He saw the look of perplexity in Ranulf's face, "The criminals of this city, " he explained.
Ranulf nodded, warily watching this strange clerk. "Good, " Corbet continued: "Then I would like you to find out two things. First, a few evenings ago two murderers, professional assassins tried to kill me a few yards from this house. They were not 'roaring boys' or gutter bullies but, as I have said, skilled assassins specially hired. I would like you to find out who hired them and why? Secondly, my young friend, if I was attracted, " he glared at Ranulf, "and I am definitely not, but if I was attracted to young men and boys, where would I go to in this city?"
Corbett watched with quiet amusement the scared look on Ranulf's face. "Do not worry, " Corbett said softly. "I am not that way inclined and, even if I was, you would have no cause to worry!"
"I am not worried, " Ranulf was almost shouting. "I'm frightened. What will happen to me if I'm caught in such a place? If the church does not burn me, my friends might and I do not want to become the laughing-stock in every alleyway in the city!" He glared fiercely at Corbett, who smiled sweetly back.
"Ranulf, I have every confidence in you. " He looked towards the door. "Now you had better go!"
The young man pulled a face, rose and clumped towards the door.
"Oh, Ranulf, " Corbett asked. "What did you do when you broke into a house? Go barefoot?"
The reformed housebreaker grinned. "You are dull in some things, " he replied. "We wore mufflers. Rags tied round our boots. Everyone knows that!"
"Except me, " Corbet smiled. "Well, you had better go!" Ranulf went carefully down the stairs, cursing and muttering but secretly wondering at the strange habits of Master Corbett. Behind him he could hear the faint notes of the flute, soft and sad, telling of dreams gone, lost or shattered.
Twelve
Ranulf did not return that day nor the next morning when Corbett, washed, barbered and dressed in his best robes left to see Alice at The Mitre. Corbett thought and dreaded that she might not be there, but she was, fresh as a May morning in a dark blue dress, with a copper chain slung low round her narrow waist and a simple gold necklace round her throat. Her hair was as soft as silk and he smelt the perfume as she flung her arms round his neck, her body soft and sinuous against him. He was relieved to see that the burly threatening Peter was not about and would have taken her directly upstairs but she protested most demurely, saying that she was busy, it was not the right time. So he accepted her excuses and sat in the kitchen while she served him wine and sweetmeats, chattering all the time, fending off his eager hands and parrying his questions. Instead, she asked how his investigations were going and laughed when he grimaced, digging his face deep into the winecup. "I hear you have a bodyguard?" she pouted. "Should I be jealous?"
Corbett stared at her and then laughed. "No, he is just a boy, " he replied. "A messenger, a carrier of goods. " Alice smiled and passed on to other matters. Corbett watched, aching for want of her as she busied herself about the kitchen in everyday chores. He sensed, for all her happiness, a tension as if her gaiety was forced. He was also puzzled, troubled by something she had said or left unsaid, but could not decide what it was. At length, he decided to leave; Alice was evidently too busy and he began to feel that he was impeding her. So he rose, embraced her passionately and left the tavern for the sunlit street of Cheapside.
Restless and ill-at-ease, he pushed his way through the crowds down past Cheapside and into Poultry to the house of his banker, the goldsmith. The front of the shop was down and the stall pulled out to display a fine range of products. Apprentices busied themselves about, taking privileged customers within to view more precious objects while others kept an eye on the not so privileged. The goldsmith was inside but came out when Corbett sent a message in with one of the apprentices. He looked troubled and evasive. "You want me, Master Corbett?"
"Yes, and some information, Master Goldsmith. "
Guisars looked round to see if anyone had heard Corbett before beckoning him into the shop. "What is it?" he whispered. "What do you want?"
Corbett stared into the frightened man's eyes. "Duket? Crepyn?" The man's eyes fell away.