A Plague of Poison (27 page)

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Authors: Maureen Ash

Tags: #Maureen Ash

“Since your wife said he had no money, did he explain how he expected to be able to pay for other lodgings?” Bascot asked.
“I asked him that and his answer was a strange one,” Gant replied. “He laughed and said that while Mary might not think it profitable to make his former association with brigands known, his company with them had proved far more gainful than she thought, especially when he also knew the members of their families.”
Bascot felt his pulse leap. “Did he make mention of any particular outlaw, or to which relative he was referring?”
Gant shook his head. “Not really. He just looked at me and said that it was a true saying that blood was thicker than water, especially between brothers.”
The Templar glanced at Gianni, who was standing beside him, and saw the boy smile. They had found the evidence they had been looking for.
Twenty-eight
A
FTER THEY LEFT THE GLOVE MAKER’S SHOP, BASCOT decided that they would not go directly back to the castle but would take their time in returning. If Mauger was amongst the people on the street, the Templar did not want to arouse any suspicion that they might have learned anything of import from Cooper’s cousin. First, he and Gianni went into the nearby church of St. Peter at Motston to offer up a prayer of thanksgiving for heaven’s assistance in their quest. After leaving there, they walked slowly up Hungate and stopped at the shop of a cobbler who had supplied the Templar with the boots he was now wearing—ones that the shoemaker had fitted with soft pads that greatly eased the pain in his injured ankle. They were greeted with what appeared to be genuine pleasure by the cobbler’s wife, a horse-faced woman with a mellow voice. She explained that her husband and son were both absent at the moment, having gone to pick up supplies of leather from one of the tanners in the lower part of town, but she would be glad to help Bascot with anything he required. The Templar examined some wrist guards that were on display on the counter and then enquired about getting a pair of new shoes for Gianni. After looking at several models the cobbler’s wife showed him, he promised to return later and place an order for a pair, then they left and walked back up Hungate to Spring Hill and out onto Steep Hill, passing through Bailgate before they entered the eastern gate of the castle.
It was nearing time for the evening meal when they reached the ward, and the Templar, aware that it might still be prudent not to seem in any haste to speak to the sheriff, sat down in his customary seat. He forced himself to chew slowly, conscious all the time that any of those eating at board or serving the food could be the man he sought. If Mauger had been watching as he and Gianni had gone to the home of Cooper’s cousin, it was imperative that he believed Mary Gant had not been able to tell anything of importance. Bascot lingered over a last cup of wine until he saw that Gerard Camville was making ready to leave the hall before he called to a page and sent him to the sheriff with a request that he speak privately to the sheriff and Lady Nicolaa. After listening to the page’s message, Camville gave him a nod across the space that intervened between them, and Bascot waited for a full quarter of an hour after the sheriff and his wife had left the room before he went up the staircase that led to Camville’s private chamber.
When Bascot arrived, a servant had just finished placing a tray bearing a flagon of wine on a small table set against the wall. The sheriff offered the Templar a cup before he asked why he had come, and Bascot accepted it, taking a deep draught before he spoke.
“I have come to tell you, lord, that I believe the potter to be innocent of the crimes with which he has been charged, and that the poisoner is a man named Mauger Rivelar. He is the older brother of Drue, a brigand you hanged about two years ago. He is also the one who is responsible for the recent death of Fland Cooper, the young man who worked in the fish market.”
Camville’s heavy brows came down over his eyes. “That is a far leap of the imagination, de Marins,” he said harshly. “Do you have some proof to substantiate this allegation?”
“I do, lord. Mauger left the Lincoln area some ten years ago, but Cooper knew him well as a child, when Mauger and his father used to patronise an alehouse Cooper’s parents owned on the Wragby road. I have evidence that will support this. After speaking to a relative of Cooper’s, I am certain that Mauger returned to Lincoln after the deaths of his brother and father and it was he who adulterated the honey that killed six people in the town. The fishmonger’s assistant saw him while he was returning from placing the poisoned honey in the home of the merchant, Reinbald, and recognised him. When Cooper realised that Mauger was using a name that was not his own, he also became aware that it was he, and not the potter, who was the poisoner. Cooper then tried to extort money from Mauger to keep his identity, and his crimes, a secret and was killed for doing so.”
The sheriff had begun to pace in his restless fashion as Bascot had been speaking. “And Rivelar’s reason for the poisonings?” he asked tersely.
“Revenge, lord,” Bascot replied in an equally short fashion. “Against you, Ivor Severtsson and the prior. You were the one responsible for hanging his brother, the bailiff gave information that enabled him to be captured and the prior was witness to the deed.”
“But none of us are dead, Templar,” Gerard objected. “I do not see how his purpose has been served by the deaths of those who had no part in bringing his brother to justice.”
Bascot spoke earnestly. “Each of those who was an intended victim was connected to one of you three, lord. Here, in the castle, the poison was meant for Lady Nicolaa. With Severtsson, it was his aunt and uncle. It was only happenstance that, on both of those occasions, others ingested the poison in their stead. The death in the priory is the only instance where Mauger achieved his aim. The poison was given to one of the monks, who are, to the prior, like members of his family. I have been told that when Mauger was a boy he enjoyed watching others being inflicted with pain. The manner in which Cooper was killed indicates that maturity has not changed him. Any revenge he sought would not be taken quickly, in the way that most men would do, with their fists or a sword. His requital would only be satisfied if he made his victims suffer before the coup de grace was delivered, so that he could take pleasure in their anguish before he despatched them. If Lady Nicolaa and Severtsson’s family had died, as he intended, he would have fulfilled his purpose.”
Camville’s face had become grim. “What are your proofs of this man’s guilt?”
Bascot related the details of Roget’s interview with the draper’s wife and how Gianni had afterwards made a suggestion that there was a connection between the poisoner and Cooper’s death. He then gave details of his questioning of Wilkin and, afterwards, the beekeeper and his daughter. Finally, he related his conversation with Matthew Gant and how it had provided proof of his suspicions. Both the sheriff and his wife listened intently.
“Mauger will not stop, lord, until he has gained his objective,” Bascot said when he had finished. “He will kill again. And the next time he might be more successful.”
“If de Marins is right, Gerard,” Nicolaa said quietly, “I am not the only one he will try to kill. Richard’s skill with a sword would be no defence against poison.”
For the first time since he had met him, Bascot saw an unfamiliar emotion appear in the sheriff’s eyes—fear.
Camville walked over to the fireplace and studied the small flames rising from the log of applewood that was burning there. It was a long time before he spoke. “You are certain of this, Templar? There can be no mistake?”
“I am sure, lord,” Bascot replied.
The sheriff nodded, convinced. “Then no time must be lost in finding him.”
A
FTER GERARD CAMVILLE GAVE HIS SANCTION TO the search, they discussed how it could best be carried out.
“He may be anywhere in Lincoln,” Bascot said. “Someone who lives in the town, a servant here in the castle or a lay brother at the priory. It is possible he is a man we see every day whose presence we accept unthinkingly, not realising his identity is a false one. The only facts of which we can be certain are that he is in his late twenties, probably strong in build and has hair that is brown and eyes of a pale colour. He will not have returned to Lincoln until after his brother and father were dead, and so he has not been here for longer than two years.”
“The only place to start,” Nicolaa said, “is with a list of possible suspects. Ernulf and Roget can help me with those who have recently arrived in the town, and I will review the household records for those within the castle. The prior of All Saints can be asked if there are any newcomers among the monks and servants who fit Mauger’s age and description.”
“You must exercise caution, Wife,” the sheriff warned. “We do not want this man alerted to our search. If he is, he will be forewarned and may leave Lincoln before we find him. To that same end, the potter must be kept in confinement.”
Nicolaa nodded her agreement. “For the present, I will take only Ernulf, Roget and the prior into our confidence. And Richard.”
“Reinbald and his family must be warned that they are in danger,” Bascot said. Then, as he recalled the animosity that the merchant’s wife, Helge, had towards Wilkin, added, “I am not confident that Reinbald’s wife has the ability to keep a still tongue in her head. She is a headstrong woman and suffered extreme embarrassment at the potter’s trial. She is also convinced that he is guilty. Her hatred of him may blind her to the peril she is in, and she may feel it necessary to defend her views to any who will listen.”
Nicolaa pondered the problem for a few moments and then said, “I shall ask the merchant to come here to the castle so that I can speak to him of this matter alone. I can use the pretext of wishing to order some wine for our stores to request his presence and, once he arrives, explain to him our fears and the reason for them. Perhaps a way can be found to protect his family without his wife being aware of it.”
“I will question Wilkin again, see if he can remember more of Mauger’s appearance, though I am doubtful he will recall much. The last time he saw Rivelar’s elder son was many years ago.”
Nicolaa nodded. “And the aspect of a man can change drastically as he becomes an adult—his height increases and his beard will thicken. Unless he had some deformity or a visible blemish, he may look completely different. But it will be worthwhile to try, for we have a difficult task before us.”
“It would be wise, Wife, if you and Richard were careful of what you eat and drink until Mauger is found,” Camville said gruffly.
“We will be, Gerard, and I will especially ensure that Richard abstains from drinking the honeyed wine of which he, like Haukwell, is so fond.”
The castellan stood up. “I owe you an apology, de Marins. I should not have doubted your instincts when you told me you believed the potter was innocent.”
“I doubted them myself, lady,” Bascot replied. “Had Gianni not made an observation that directed me to the truth, I would still be doing so.”
“Then I will ensure the boy is rewarded for his quick intelligence,” Nicolaa promised him.
Twenty-nine
E
ARLY THE NEXT MORNING, NICOLAA DE LA HAYE sat with her son, waiting for Reinbald to respond to a summons she had sent asking that he attend her that afternoon to discuss the purchase of a quantity of wine for the castle store. Richard had been apprised of the situation the night before when his father sent for him to come to the sheriff’s private chamber while Bascot was still there. He had listened in dismay as the Templar repeated his proofs of Mauger’s guilt and was shaken when he realised the danger that Nicolaa was in. “You must stay in the company of either Father or myself at all times, Mother. To do otherwise will put you in great peril.”

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