A Mortal Bane(131)

“You are not summoned to answer for past crimes,” Guiscard de Tournai said sharply, “but for present ones.”

The bishop’s eyes shifted briefly to Guiscard, then returned to Knud, and he asked, “Who is the goldsmith who made the copies of the prior’s silver candlesticks?”

Now Knud’s eyes and mouth were both wide open, but more astonishment showed than fear. “The prior’s silver candlesticks?” he echoed when he was able to make his jaw and tongue work. “I do not know of any copies made, but I am only the sacristan’s assistant. Who would tell me if copies were made?” There was a tinge of bitterness in the voice.

“You have cleaned those candlesticks often,” Bell said. “Look at the one on the table. Is that the candlestick that you have cleaned every week?”

Brother Elwin helped the man up and he went and looked at the candlestick. “It looks like it,” he said, glancing nervously at the bishop. Then he saw the crack showing the base metal. “I thought it was solid silver,” he said.

“It was, which is how we know this is a copy,” the bishop remarked.

‘To whom did you give my keys?” the sacristan shouted. “Or did you have the safe-box key copied for your own use?”

Knud’s face, to which the color had mostly returned, paled again. “I never gave your keys to anyone,” he cried. “And I have no copy of the safe-box key. You can search me, search all my things. I am no thief!”

Bell thought there was honest indignation in the last four words. No thief. Yet the man was utterly terrified of the bishop’s discovery of some crime. That certainly made him vulnerable to anyone who knew his secret. The sacristan?

The bishop sighed. “Unfortunately, in a place like this there are enough hiding places for an object the size of a key. We could prove nothing with a search, and we have a more immediate, more important, task for the lay brothers and monks. There has been another murder, and this time in the church itself. The whole church must be purified, washed and cleansed of blood and the desecrating presence of the act.”

“Murder?” Knud was plainly horrified, but Bell thought he did not associate the murder with himself at all.

“Look at the mark on the base of the candlestick. Can you tell me whose that is?” Bell asked.

Knud took the candlestick and after a moment, shook his head. “I do not see any mark. The mark I know was in the center and boldly raised. I believe Brother Paulinus once told me it was the mark of Master Jacob the Alderman.”

Wordlessly, Bell pointed out the small craftmark in the corner of the base and Knud stared at it, then shrugged. “I do not know whose mark that is, but I think it possible that there are two or three other pieces made by the same hand.”

“God have mercy on us,” the prior sighed.

Before Winchester could speak, the prior’s secretary appeared in the open doorway. “It is time for Matins,” he said, his eyes round, his face pale with distress. “We cannot pray in the church. Where….”

“Until the church is reconsecrated, in my chapel,” Winchester said, rising. “Brother Elwin, do you and Brother Patric or others you trust completely keep close watch on Knud, even when he goes to the privy. I will have more questions for him some other time. Tomorrow, after Prime, we will begin to purify the church so that it can be reconsecrated before Sunday.” He started for the door but stopped when he came abreast of Magdalene and Bell. “You may return to your house, Magdalene. I believe you have nothing to do with this crime.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Magdalene said. “May my women and I help with the purification? I know that Dulcie will wish to clean, and Sabina—she regrets her state so bitterly—she is blind, but—