The bailiff was right, and there was no mistaking that the dead man was circumcised.
Sunday 26 May, the eighth day of Sivan
A shaft of lemon-sharp light darted into the synagogue as Judith threw back the shutters. Yesterday the synagogue had been crammed with people for the Shavuoth services, but the door and shutters had been kept firmly barred in the hope that their muffled prayers would not reach the ears of the passers-by outside, and the synagogue was still fugged with the stench of sweat, oil and tallow.
Judith breathed in the cold morning air gratefully. As soon as the sun warmed the streets they’d be stinking of rotten vegetables, fish, dung and offal from Saturday’s markets, but for now a stiff breeze from the river carried with it the subtle scents of thyme, mint and bergamot growing in the synagogue garden below the window. Church bells from the scores of churches and chapels were pealing out over the city, calling the faithful to Mass.
Judith pulled the star-shaped oil lamp towards her and set about scraping the sticky residue of oil and wick fragments from the five spouts before refilling the reservoir. She remembered that the lamps in the study chamber would also have been burning and, with the flask of oil already in her hand, thought that she might as well refill those before she started her sweeping. But to her annoyance she found the door between the chamber and the synagogue barred on the other side.
Irritated by having to make the extra walk, Judith trudged out of the synagogue and climbed the back stairs that led to the separate chamber entrance. She unlatched the door and pushed it open. As in the synagogue, the shutters in the little chamber were tightly fastened, but the light from the open door was just enough for Judith to make out the figure of Nathan crouching in the corner of the room. His legs were drawn up to his chest, and his forehead rested on his knees. He didn’t look up, obviously so deeply asleep that even the sound of the door opening didn’t arouse him.
Judith closed the door as quietly as she could and was about to tiptoe back down the stairs when she stopped. There was something about the room that was not right. She was used to the study chamber being in disarray — the tables usually heaped with untidy piles of parchment, scrolls, discarded quills and even forgotten garments — but this was different. And there was a foul smell in the room, too, more than just the stench of tallow, sweat and stale air.
She cautiously opened the door again. Flies were buzzing against the shutters. Parchments and scrolls were strewn across the floor like autumn leaves. One of the trestles was overturned. Had Nathan thrown it over in a passion of grief?
‘Nathan?’ she called softly. Still he did not stir. She almost gagged, the stench was so overpowering. She had taken a step inside the room to open the shutters, when the breeze caught the door behind her and slammed it shut. She heard something thump down on to the wooden floor. She wrenched the door open again and saw that Nathan had slumped over on to his side. It was only then that Judith glimpsed the thick cord cutting deep into the flesh of his neck. What she could see of his face was purple and grotesquely swollen. His eyes were bulging wide. Nathan was dead.
Judith ran down the steps, half slipping in her haste. Someone was standing in the shadow of one of the apple trees in the synagogue garden. She was about to shout to them when it occurred to her that the watching figure might be Nathan’s killer. She started to run back up the stairs, but she knew she couldn’t bring herself to go back into that room, whatever danger lay outside. She turned again, trying to get a better glimpse of the person under the tree, but the place where they had been standing was empty.
Judith edged across the garden, then she picked up her skirts and ran the few streets to her home, praying that her brother would still be there. It was the Christian Sabbath, so Jews were not permitted to work in the workshops, but Isaac usually continued to sew in secret at home, for they needed the money. But when she burst in, she found the room empty. She tried to think. Where would he be? He must be with Aaron or Benedict. She hurried to the rabbi’s house, her heart still thumping so loudly in her chest she thought it would burst. But though she hammered for several minutes on his door, neither Rabbi Elias nor Aaron answered.
‘Judith,’ a voice called behind her. She turned to see her brother Isaac hurrying along the street towards her. Almost crying with relief, she ran to him.
‘Isaac…’ she panted. ‘You must… come at once. It’s Nathan… I’ve just found him in the synagogue… He’s… he’s dead!’
‘No, no, that’s not possible!’ Isaac turned and ran towards the synagogue. Judith followed more slowly. Her legs felt as weak as a newborn calf, and it was all she could do to walk, never mind run. Isaac had already raced up the stairs and was flinging open the door of the study chamber before Judith had crossed the garden.
Almost at once he emerged again at the top of the stairs. ‘I thought you said Nathan was in here.’
Judith pulled herself up the stairs. As she stepped cautiously inside the chamber, Isaac followed. Everything was exactly as she had left it, except for the body. Nathan’s corpse had vanished.
‘But… he was right there in the corner,’ Judith protested, turning in bewilderment to her brother.
Isaac gently squeezed her shoulders. ‘Perhaps you only thought Nathan was dead. He may simply have fainted and then recovered and has taken himself home.’
Judith closed her eyes tightly. ‘You didn’t see his face, Isaac, his eyes. There was a cord tied around his neck, cutting into his throat.’
‘A cord? Aaron was using a red cord two nights ago. He left it here, after Nathan…’ Isaac’s gaze darted around the room. ‘Are you sure you saw a cord? It’s not here now.’
‘Of course I am,’ Judith yelled at him. ‘And the stench. Can’t you smell it?’
Her brother sniffed. ‘That rotten stink from the butchers’ market — everyone can smell that. Look, little sister, dead men don’t get up and walk. A corpse can’t just vanish.’
‘Isaac, listen to me. I thought I saw someone watching this chamber. What if it was Nathan’s murderer and he came back while I was gone and moved the body?’
‘But why risk discovery by moving a corpse in broad daylight when they could simply leave it here?’ Isaac suddenly clapped his hand to his mouth and began frantically to search the room, tossing parchments aside, flinging out the contents of the small chests. ‘Is there something else missing, Judith? Something you saw in the room before that isn’t there now?’
‘Like what?’
But he didn’t answer her and she didn’t need an answer. She knew he was looking for the stone. And if the stone was missing…
‘Isaac, you said that Aaron had a red cord in this chamber. Is it possible that Aaron could have… murdered Nathan?’
Her brother gaped at her. ‘Aaron is the rabbi’s son. We’ve all grown up together. They may have quarrelled but…’ Isaac hesitated. He shook his head as if trying to rid himself of the idea and said firmly, ‘No. This is nonsense. You must have imagined it. You were always seeing monsters in the corners of the room in the dark when you were a child. You probably ate too much cheese last night.’
He bent over to kiss her forehead, but Judith furiously pulled away. It was the closest she had ever come to slapping him since they were children.
‘And what about whatever you were searching for: is that here?’ she demanded.
Isaac gnawed at the skin of his needle-calloused finger. ‘Nathan must have taken it home with him. I’ll go to his house straight away. That’ll put your mind at rest.’ He tried to smile. ‘Nathan’s probably sitting there right now swigging his ale, and all your fears will be for nothing.’ But he didn’t sound convinced by his own words.
Nathan was not in his house or his shop, and by the time the city gates were closed for the night and fires damped down in hearths he had still not returned. Anxious enquiries among all the Jews in the city revealed only that no one remembered seeing him since the eve of Shavuoth. There was no doubt that, dead or alive, Nathan had vanished and he was not the only one missing; Aaron likewise had disappeared.
Monday 27 May, the ninth day of Sivan
Isaac and Benedict came in from the yard, their hands still dripping with water from the ritual washing before meals. Judith ladled the thick bean and mutton potage into rough wooden bowls, fishing out an extra piece of mutton from the iron pot to put into Benedict’s bowl. There were more green herbs in the potage than meat or dried beans, for the stores in her kitchen were dwindling fast. Shavuoth may have been the wheat harvest festival for their ancestors in Israel, but here in the northern lands it was a time of hunger, for it would be many weeks before grain and fruit were ready to harvest.
Judith took her own bowl and sat at the end of the table. She could see that Benedict was bursting to say
