A Mortal Bane(51)

“And you are sure it was the sacristan’s voice you heard just before the thud and the running footsteps?”

Her lips thinned. “Yes. I know it well enough; we all do. And I would like to know what Brother Paulinus was doing in the church at that hour. Was he not supposed to be abed? Are not the doors the business of Brother Porter?”

“I do not know, but the sacristan is a high official of the priory, with responsibility for the church plate and vessels. It is not impossible that he came to check on something, make something ready for the next day’s service, or perform some other duty. But I will ask him. You may be sure I will ask him. Think again, Sabina. Did you hear anything else?”

She started to shake her head, then frowned. “A door closed. I thought Brother Paulinus closed the door to the porch, which is what I told you. But I never touched the door and cannot be sure whether it was open or closed. Now that I think again, perhaps the air felt as if the door was open? Perhaps the sound of closing was farther away? Oh, I do not know. I am not sure. I have thought so much about this that I fear I am making up things.”

Bell rose and came to pat her shoulder gently. She did not start or show any surprise, and her head was turned toward him before he touched her. She did indeed see through her ears, he thought.

“That is enough,” he said. “Let us join the others.”

[page]His next duty was to search the house, which he did with painstaking thoroughness, examining every hidden corner in the cellar and loft, every shelf, and even the niches between the beams and supports, which made Magdalene catch her breath. Alert, his eyes flicked to her. There was nothing in her expression, but their glances locked and he was surer than ever that Baldassare had hidden the pouch in the house and that the women had found it and hidden it elsewhere.

Aside from that one flicker of unease, the women warmly encouraged the search, which left him torn between feeling that what he was doing was ridiculous and that they wanted him to think it was ridiculous so he would be careless in his examination. Nonetheless, careful as he was, he found nothing and finally returned to the common room.

“I have been thinking,” he said to Magdalene, seating himself on Ella’s stool, “that what you suggested on the way here is only sensible. We will do better in solving this mystery if we work together and exchange information.” He wondered if he was a fool to make such an offer to a whore but he thought, fool or not, he could not lose much; likely they knew more than he did. “You realize, do you not,” he added, now intending to frighten them a little, “that the person who killed Baldassare must have been here or in the priory?”

Bell heard the quick, indrawn breath of Letice and Sabina, but Magdalene’s expression did not change.

They had not thought it all out, but she had. A face like an angel’s, a mind like a trap. If he found any reason at all why she should want Baldassare dead…. He suppressed a shudder. And a gentlewoman, who could have learned to use a knife, too—a very dangerous lady indeed.

Magdalene nodded slowly. “Yes. I did realize that, which is one of the reasons I have been so frightened. I know none of us did this thing, but if our front gate was locked when the last client left, just before dark, and the priory gate was guarded—as it always is by Brother Godwine or his assistants—then the murderer must have been confined to my house and grounds or to the priory.”

“That puts more suspicion on you,” he said, “but it is not all bad. At least we do not need to suspect the whole city of Southwark and all of London, too. That gives us a better chance to find out who committed the crime.”