A Mortal Bane(149)

The bishop, who was twisting his neck to look at her, asked kindly, “But then what, Magdalene?”

“Now I understand that conversation Beaumeis related,” she said, stepping to the other side to be out of Bell’s way and coming closer. “If it was the thief who killed Baldassare, those two were talking to each other but about entirely different things. When the monk said he could explain, he meant he could explain what looked like a robbery. And when Baldassare said he understood, he must have meant he knew you did not want the bull delivered in a public way that would incite your enemies, but the thief thought he had seen him stealing. So when Baldassare said, ‘Wait here,’ meaning he would fetch the pouch from where he had hidden it, the monk panicked, drew him out of the church, where sound, if Baldassare cried out, might carry…and killed him.”

“Except for one thing,” Bell put in, his eyes bright with revelation. He drew a deep breath and said, “My lord, if Baldassare was killed for recognizing the thief, the thief could not have been a monk. How would Baldassare know a simple monk? Bishops he knew, and some of the important abbots, for it was to them he carried the pope’s messages, but a common monk?”

Magdalene’s eyes widened. “And I know more certainly it could not have been a monk of St. Mary Overy priory because Baldassare had never previously visited either the church or the priory. He told me so, and had to ask me before he could be sure the church he saw from my gate was St. Mary Overy.”

“Not a monk.” The bishop looked up from one to the other. “Must we seek throughout England for the murderer?”

“No, indeed,” Bell replied, now smiling grimly. “If the thief is the murderer, I will have his name very soon, or if he gave a false name, a good description of him. Remember, my lord, I reported to you yesterday that I had found the goldsmith who made the copies of the stolen plate. I would know now who had brought him the originals and ordered the copies, except that yesterday I could not ask him any questions. He had been attacked that very morning—”

[page]Magdalene gasped, and both men looked at her. “The morning after the craftmark had been discovered. Could that attack have been a coincidence?”

“I did not think so,” Bell said, looking a bit smug. “I left four men to keep a guard on the goldsmith, so he should be quite safe.”

“Yes, but…but….”

Magdalene’s glance flew around the room, and she drew a deep and calmer breath when she saw that no one was paying any attention to their little group or trying to listen to them. The sacristan was still deep in his own thoughts, and not pleasant ones judging by his expression; the prior and the other monks were listening to Brother Elwin urging something on Brother Patric; and the priest and archdeacon were now arguing with Guiscard about the way he had phrased something in his report. Reassured, she turned to Bell, who was frowning.

“Well? But?” He was a little annoyed, thinking she was about to raise an objection.

She waved a hand at him to indicate he should lower his voice. ‘There is no need to tell everyone about the goldsmith. Do you not remember there were only a few of us who knew a craftmark had been discovered? Do you not see that it must have been one of the people in the prior’s chamber when we talked of that who tried to silence the goldsmith? And we are all here again—except for the priest and the archdeachon.” She looked up at Bell. “How badly was the man hurt? Is he awake yet? Could he be carried here on a litter?”

“I do not know, except to say he was not hurt to the death. I asked and was told he would recover. But I can find the answers to the other questions quickly enough. I will send a man to my guards and they will bring him, if it is at all possible.”