A Mortal Bane(52)

“Well, of course, someone might have climbed the wall,” Magdalene offered, then sighed. “But it is a high wall, and spiked, not easy to climb, and the Watch does keep an eye on this place. So, yes, it is among the people who were within these walls that we are likely to find the guilty one.” She sighed again. “I did not mention it before because I hoped you would see some other possibility, but yes, I saw it, too.”

You would, Bell thought, but he did not respond to her directly. “Sabina,” he said, “would you have been able to tell if someone was hiding in your grounds while you sat in the garden waiting for Baldassare to return?”

The blind girl sat silent, head bowed, hands clasped lightly. Then, slowly, she shook her head. “I am sorry, no. First, if the person was still, I would have felt no movement of air nor heard any crunch of leaves. And even if the person did move about…I was listening to the service. I would have heard a loud sound—a sharp crack of a stick or a kicked stone rattling, and I did not hear those. But a soft footfall…I fear not.”

Bell was more pleased than disappointed by her answer. She knew now that it would be strongly to the advantage of the women of the Old Priory Guesthouse that someone be hiding in the garden, and she still did not pretend to have heard any sign of an intruder.

“That does not mean much,” he said, wishing to cheer her up as a reward for her truthfulness. “A person knowing the time of appointment could have slipped in at any time in the afternoon, especially if he knew the gate would be locked at night. He could then have gone into the priory grounds, or even into the church at any time before you came out.”

Letice reached out to touch Bell’s arm and shook her head vigorously, pointing to the priory and church.

“He did not go to the church or priory,” Magdalene interpreted, then asked, “Why?”

Fingers mimed searching, throwing things about.

“The saddlebags and feed!” Magdalene exclaimed. “Of course, he must have been in our grounds—perhaps even hiding in the stable—after Messer Baldassare arrived. How unfortunate that no one needed to look into the stable until after Messer Baldassare was dead!”

“I do not see any connection—” Bell began.

“Yes, yes,” Magdalene interrupted impatiently. “If the saddlebags were searched for the pouch—I am assuming it was the pouch the killer was looking for—before Messer Baldassare’s death, then the killer had no personal animosity toward Messer Baldassare. Had he found what he wanted, doubtless he would have taken it and disappeared. If he did not look until after he had killed, we know two things. First, that Messer Baldassare did not have the pouch with him when he met the killer, which likely means he was at least a bit suspicious about the meeting, and second, that he had therefore hidden his most precious possession…perhaps near where he waited in the church so he could get it quickly if all went well.”

[page]“Hid the pouch in the church?” Bell repeated, looking sidelong at Magdalene.

What she said was surely possible, but Bell was more sure than ever that these women, not poor Baldassare, had found and hidden the pouch. Still, there was no sense pressing the point. They would deny it to protect themselves—for which he did not really blame them—and they would be more likely to give themselves away (except Magdalene) if he pretended he believed them.

“But even so,” he went on, “why kill Baldassare? That wound was not made by someone who crept up from behind and stabbed to steal his purse. The murderer knew Baldassare. He was walking with him, talking to him. Even say he asked for the pouch and Baldassare refused to give it to him, why kill? All he had to do was pretend to leave and watch. Baldassare would have had to retrieve the pouch sooner or later.”