A Mortal Bane(48)

“Certainly not,” Bell said. “You see I have no staff, so I could not strike you with it.”

“You have a sword.”

“Only a madman would strike you with a sword for no reason. I will not, I promise.”

Magdalene heard the faint note of impatience in his voice and said, “I think you will accomplish more and feel more comfortable if you question each of my women privately. We have an empty room to which you can take a bench and a stool. I can provide a small table if that will be of help.”

“Thank you, that will do very well.”

“Shall I ask the women each to go to her own room so that you need not be concerned lest we decide among us what to say?”

He looked at her and smiled slowly, guessing she was making the point because he had not sent her home alone from the priory. In fact, he was amused now to think he had suspected they would concoct answers. They had had a full night and day to do so already. The truth was, he had wanted to walk with her and made a stupid excuse to himself. But he was not about to admit that and spoke his first thought.

“If that had been your intention,” he said, “you would have decided among you long since.”

She looked surprised. “That is true, but you do not seem sure of it. We are innocent. To kill a client of this house would be insane. No matter how much money he was carrying, we would lose more in the long run by having our other clients lose confidence in us.”

“Except that this man was a stranger. You indicated to me that you had guessed he came from Italy and that no one knew he was coming to your house. If he disappeared, who would know? If he died on the church porch, who would associate him with you? You could take all that he had—”

“Ridiculous.” Magdalene laughed. “This house was the first place the monks thought of. Do you think we are unaware of how they feel? And why should we take such a chance? Would it not be more sensible to have drugged him, then smothered him and dumped him in the river? We may be sinners, but we are not fools.”

“What are you saying?” Ella looked up and her eyes were round as saucers. “Did someone fall in the river?”

“No, love. We were talking about dumping offal in the river. You know that Dulcie sometimes does that.”

“Does she? No, I did not know. I would never go with her to the river. My mother taught me that, never to go near the river and never to touch a knife.”

“Never to touch a knife, Ella?” Bell said. “How do you eat, then?”

“With my fingers, like everyone else who has any sense. I lick them clean and wash my hands after.” She shuddered. “I could not put a knife in my mouth. I have to look away when friends do it.”

“Letice cuts up her food,” Magdalene said, shook her head slightly, and turned away. “If that bench near the hearth on the east wall and the stool by the window will suit you, take them.”

Bell picked up the bench and stool and followed her down the corridor to the last room on the right. He had been a little suspicious at first when Magdalene suggested he question the women separately in private, but by now he was reasonably sure it was not to hide anything from him but from Ella, who caught bits and pieces of the talk, did not understand it, and was easily frightened.

[page]It looked less and less likely that these women had had any part in Baldassare’s death. The mute was simply too small. Had she used the knife, it would have gone in at a completely different angle. There was a small possibility that the blind woman could have killed him by accident, but the cut would not have been so clean if she had been flailing around. Ella? He shook his head. He tended to believe in her fear of knives; she was plainly several bushels lacking of a full load of corn.