A Mortal Bane(80)

“He searched your house? Why?” Father Benin asked.

“He was looking for Master Baldassare’s pouch. I had seen it under his cloak, although I had not seen it clearly because he had thrust it to the back. But the pouch was not found with the body. The bishop wondered if Messer Baldassare had hidden the pouch in my house because he did not trust the person he was supposed to meet. And since the bishop is sure that Messer Baldassare had come with important documents from the pope, he is eager that Sir Bellamy find the pouch if he can.”

“I see. Well, I must say I am greatly relieved to learn that Sir Bellamy has been ordered to discover who committed this crime. I have found him to be honest and clever when he did the bishop’s work in the past.”

“He is not so honest now,” Brother Paulinus hissed. “He is bedazzled by this whore and his sole purpose is to remove any stigma from her. I tell you, she stole the pyx.”

The last idea Magdalene wanted fixed in the prior’s mind was that Bell was enamored of her. Better let him think about the missing pyx. “How did I steal it?” Magdalene cried. “Do I look strong enough to break open a safe box?”

“Your strength does not matter—the box was not broken open.”

Both Magdalene and Father Benin drew a sharp breath and turned to stare at the sacristan. Now Magdalene knew why he was acting like a madman. He had always been strongly opposed to having even so discreet a house of pleasure as hers adjoining the monastery and had always been more rigid about carnal sin than most. His effort to involve her and her women in the murder, once he learned that Baldassare had come through the back gate, was not really unreasonable; however, his insistence that she had stolen the pyx, which was impossible, was mad. But if the safe box had not been broken, someone who had the key must have stolen the pyx…and the person who held the key to the safe box was the sacristan.

“Oh, dear,” Magdalene whispered.

She did not like the sacristan. In his passionate desire for purity, Brother Paulinus could be cruel and, as she had seen when he struck Ella, violent. She could easily imagine him murdering Baldassare in some mistaken fit of righteousness; she could even imagine him blotting out the memory, or convincing himself that God had directed his act for the purpose of driving out the whores and their corruption. But what reason could Brother Paulinus possibly have for stealing the church plate? And she learned the answer in the next breath.

“It is not possible,” Father Benin had murmured simultaneously, and then, smiling wryly, said, “No, not even to repair the belfry roof. Even if you hold the key, Brother Paulinus, there must be another answer.”

“It cannot be the only key,” Magdalene said.

“Do not you dare defend me!” Brother Paulinus shouted. “Your evil purpose lies like a putrid glow over you. You—”

“Hush, Brother Sacristan,” Father Benin said. ‘The woman may be a sinner, but she means well in this. Why do you not go to my prie-dieu and say a prayer to calm yourself.”

That was not really a suggestion; no matter how gentle the voice, it was an order. And when the gaunt monk had walked to where the prior’s crucifix hung on the wall near his bed and knelt before it, the prior turned to Magdalene.

[page]“I think you should leave us now, daughter. Go down to the chamber below and Brother Fareman will see you home.”

“Thank you, Father Prior,” she said, and then, struck by a notion, added softly, “Is it possible that because the little pyx is so small, it was left out when the other vessels were cleaned and returned? Could it be that after the box was locked, the person who forgot it was afraid to admit his fault and hid it somewhere in the church, intending to return it today when the box was opened to make the vessels ready for Sunday? If the church were searched—”