A Mortal Bane(34)

He was holding a letter in his hand and also said, “Guiscard—” but the woman quickly stepped around the end of the table, passed Bell without a glance and said, “My lord bishop, I am Magdalene la Batarde, and I have very urgent news for you about the murder that took place on the north porch of St. Mary Overy church.”

“Murder!” Henry of Winchester exclaimed. “What murder? When?”

Bell turned from the woman to face the bishop. Behind him, he heard a wordless exclamation from Guiscard. For a moment, while shock prevented any deeper emotion from taking hold, he wondered whether Guiscard’s protest was one of indignation at the whore’s boldness or dismay at the news of the murder. They might, Bell thought, be of about equal weight with Guiscard.

“I was told of it yesterday morning, just past Prime,” the whore said, “but the sacristan insisted the victim had come from my house and implied that he had been killed Wednesday night.”

“God help him—and us,” Winchester breathed, not undevoutly, then beckoned to her. “Come, come within and tell me what you know of this.”

‘Too much,” Magdalene said when the door had closed behind them. She dropped her veil. “I…I have made trouble for myself—”

“Murder is not just a little trouble,” the bishop snapped.

“Oh, no, my lord. I and my women had nothing to do with the man’s death. If the dead man is the person I believe him to be, he left the Old Priory Guesthouse with all his belongings, hale and hearty and well pleased with his entertainment, but—” She bit her lip and drew in a deep breath. “But I lied about his being in my house and taking his pleasure with one of my women. I am very sorry, my lord. I was frightened and lost my temper with Brother Paulinus. I knew none of us had harmed Messer Baldassare—”

“Who?” Henry of Winchester cried. “What did you say was the man’s name?”

“He told me he was Baldassare de Firenze, my lord, when he first came to the gate. And he is the only one who could have departed my house and come to harm without my knowledge. If any of the others had not reached home safely, you see, someone would have come to ask about them.”

“Baldassare,” the bishop breathed.

Clearly, the bishop was very distressed. Magdalene abandoned the effort to explain how she knew it was her client who was dead without admitting that Sabina had recognized him.

“You knew him, my lord?” she asked.

“I fear so. Was he…was he carrying anything?”

“There were saddlebags on his horse, and he wore a purse and carried a pouch. But he took everything with him. Sabina was careful to remind him to look well. He was not a regular client, you see, so we did not wish to be accused of stealing if he left anything behind. And after Brother Paulinus told us he was dead, we looked again with double care.”

“Why did you lie to the brother if you are innocent?”

“Innocent? To Brother Paulinus? He had already decided I had killed Messer Baldassare, and when I asked him why I should do such a dreadful thing, which would ruin my business and my reputation, he said it was because I was so filled with evil that I could not bear that the man should clean my sin from his soul by confessing in the church.”

“The sacristan said you committed murder to prevent the man from confessing?” The bishop’s lips twitched.

“Yes. Brother Paulinus said I followed him and killed him so he would remain stained with sin. My lord, I know my trade is sinful; if my clients become uneasy, I would lose them. Thus my women and I have always encouraged those who felt guilty over visiting us to ease their consciences in the church. And the prior was never unduly harsh with them. Although pure himself, he understood that others might be frail, might sin and regret it. We understand, too. We have never committed any outrage—”