A Mortal Bane(27)

Within a month of moving into the Old Priory Guesthouse, Magdalene had contrived to meet the prior and convince him that the gate should be opened for the benefit of the souls of her clients and the finances of the church. She had not mentioned that the more secretive of the men who visited her house could thereby reverse the process, that is, enter by the priory gate—a holy and laudable place to visit—enjoy their pleasures, and then go out through the priory so that none would know they had visited a whore. Since the men rarely forgot to leave an offering at the priory, neither Magdalene nor the prior had regretted the arrangement—in spite of the sacristan’s displeasure—and the gate had remained open ever since.

“Brother Paulinus!” Magdalene exclaimed bitterly. “Now what can we do?”

“Since the bull names the bishop legate and will be of great benefit to him, could you not bring the pouch directly to him?” Sabina asked slowly. “You would have to admit the man was here, but surely Henry of Winchester is not such an idiot as the sacristan to think we would follow a client to the church to kill him.”

“God, no!” Magdalene exclaimed. “Only his worst enemy would give the bishop this pouch. How could he explain how he came by the pouch of a papal messenger who was murdered so near his London house? And he must present to the king the letter that confirms him in power, so he could not just hold his peace until he needed to act as legate. And just now, since the king contrived that election of Theobald, Winchester and his brother are not on the best of terms. William of Ypres told me that really harsh words had been exchanged. That would be a rich broth for the bishop’s enemies to find tasty nuggets in. To defend himself, he would have to admit I brought him the pouch. Who would then believe we did not kill the man?”

“Could someone climb the wall?” Sabina asked uncertainly. She had never seen the wall and did not know how high it was.

[page]“Perhaps I could,” Magdalene replied, even more uncertainly. “We could put a table against it and I…but how would I get down on the other side? And how would I get up again? And we certainly could not be climbing the wall during the day….”

“Meanwhile, what do we do with this?” Dulcie asked, removing the pouch from her cleaning supplies.

Magdalene looked at it with loathing, then drew a deep breath. “For now, I will hide it in the same place the dead man put it, only in the empty room. Then we will have to think of some way to be rid of it.”

That was easier said than done, although the urgency of disposing of the pouch diminished throughout the day. By dinnertime, Magdalene was no longer much concerned about Brother Paulinus coming to search. He must have realized, she reasoned, that after his announcement of the murder, they would have looked for and disposed of any evidence they discovered. Nonetheless, the pouch had to be found and must not be found in their house, so—using obscure terms so that Ella would not understand—they discussed what to do with it, until their clients began to arrive.

Perhaps putting the problem out of their minds while they made merry with their guests did some good, because it was soon after the last client had left them that a solution to the problem was discovered. Letice went to lock the front gate and the front and back doors of the house after Vespers and as she drew the key from the back lock, she looked at it and her mouth opened in a large O. She ran to where Magdalene was lighting torchettes and shook the key in her face.

“Not more trouble.” Magdalene sighed. “The door will not lock?”

Letice shook her head, dragged Magdalene to the front door, unlocked and then relocked it, dragged Magdalene to the back door, unlocked and relocked that, and again shook the key in Magdalene’s face.