A Mortal Bane(137)

“Yes, I see.” Magdalene shivered. “If Brother Godwine had put the candlestick down on the altar and asked Beaumeis his business, that little rat could easily have come over to Brother Godwine sure he could lie his way out of anything, but if Brother Godwine would not be satisfied and perhaps asked what he was doing so late in the priory on the day Baldassare was killed, Beaumeis might have snatched up the candlestick and…. He had killed before. I have heard it grows easier each time.” She shuddered again. “I cannot imagine that.”

“It is true, I assure you,” Bell said, his mouth tightening into a grim line. “If Beaumeis had killed Baldassare, he would have found it easier to silence Brother Godwine.”

“Do you think he has fled?”

“Yes, and I think I know where he went. I sent a good man to St. Albans. Father Benin told me that Beaumeis is a nephew—sister’s son—to the abbot—”

“So that was why he was forgiven so many transgressions,” Magdalene exclaimed. “I often wondered why the prior did not put him out. He was forever cheating and skipping classes to come here to whine about my prices.” She shook her head. “I wonder what the abbot would have said if he learned what Beaumeis bought with the money he was given for living expenses.” Then she frowned. “If he is there, I doubt the abbot will give him up to your man.”

“I will leave that problem to the bishop. I know how difficult it might be to drag Beaumeis out of the monastery even if I can prove him guilty. The Church prefers to deal with its own, and he has been ordained a deacon. For now, I only want to talk to him, and I think the abbot will permit that. Knowing he is safe, he may even be willing to tell the truth, which is what I need to hear. I have made a good case for his being the murderer, but I have no evidence—except that he was in the priory the day Baldassare was killed. All the rest is guesswork.”

Magdalene sighed. “Well, I suppose it is better that it be he than another. Let me go wash and dress. I think Dulcie will bring in dinner in a quarter candlemark.”

Bell nodded. “May I join you for the meal? I meant to find something at a cookshop, but I had to tell the bishop about Beaumeis’s absence from his lodgings and the result of my search for the goldsmith, so I came here….”

“Of course. You are more than welcome.”

When they had gathered around the table, however, to everyone’s surprise, Ella did not seem to subscribe to that sentiment. She scowled at Bell and asked severely, “Did you not care that you left us in danger of our lives last night?”

“In danger?” Bell looked from one face to another. “Did something happen last night after Magdalene returned? I thought it was safe enough for her to walk through the back gate. The monks had scoured the churchyard.”

“Nothing happened,” Magdalene said, shaking her head at Ella. “I came home quite safely. I cannot imagine what Ella is talking about.”

“The door was unlocked,” Ella said. “You took the key and left us in an open house while a murderer is loose. He could have come in and slain us all in our beds. And I heard noises in the night and saw a light in the stable. I was so frightened….”

“Someone was in the stable?” Bell asked sharply.

Magdalene sighed; that secret was out. “It was I, you silly girl.” She turned her head toward Bell. “I sent Tom the Watchman with a message to William to tell him about the murder. I was trying to avoid frightening the others. I suppose the bishop told you that the pouch was discovered?”

“Yes, and that William of Ypres was there.” Bell’s gaze was definitely sardonic, but Magdalene met his eyes with bland indifference.