Garth? We are all occupied here.”
“Masters—” Tom snatched a breath and his eyes flitted nervously from one face to the next. “There is a man at the gate just now wanting Constable Edmonton, as a matter of urgency. There’s been another killing, he says.”
“Another—? Good God. Call the constable down,” Langworth barked over his shoulder to the guard. I pressed closer, so that I could see the vein begin to pulse in his temple. “Did he say who it was, Garth?”
“Doctor Sykes, he says. Found in the river up past St. Radigund’s Street, where the two streams meet.”
“
Langworth staggered back a step; it was barely noticeable and he composed himself almost immediately, but I was near enough to see that this news had dealt him an unexpected blow. I was reeling from it myself. Over my shoulder I looked at Harry, who only opened his eyes wide in disbelief.
“Where is this man?” Langworth demanded, his voice firm again.
“Right here, sir,” Tom said, and stepped aside to reveal a young man, sweating profusely. When he saw Langworth, he ripped his cap from his head and stood twisting it between his hands.
“A woman saw the body in the creek, sir, just a few moments past,” he blurted. “Well, she screamed and run for the nearest house. My father and I pulled him out, sir.”
“Drowned?”
“No, sir, stabbed. Looks like he was put in the water after. He was weighted down.”
“What?”
“In the water. There was a stone tied around his neck with a rope, except it wasn’t really big enough for the job, he was still drifting with the current. We didn’t know it was him till we got him on the bank. You could only see his black robes billowing in the water.”
Edmonton came bounding down the stairs at this moment and elbowed me aside to stand at Langworth’s shoulder.
“This man says Sykes is dead,” Langworth muttered, and his voice grew shaky again. “We had better make haste—I cannot fathom …” He turned sharply to me, and if his face had been pallid before, it now seemed drained of all blood. “Where were you this morning?”
I looked at him, unblinking. “
Langworth’s eyes flashed.
“You would joke over a man’s corpse, you—?” He made a choking sound, as if he could find no ready insult that would do me justice. With bared teeth he took a step towards me; he might have lunged there and then if Edmonton had not put out a hand to restrain him.
“Let us go and see this dreadful business, sir,” he said. “We can finish the search later. Come.” He gestured to the guards. “This fellow who fished him out can answer some questions on the way. You—can you bring us this woman who first saw the body?”
“I should think so, sir—my mother was giving her a glass of something when I came to fetch the constable.”
“Tell her to have a care for herself,” I called, from the hallway. “Tell her you can be arrested for merely finding a body in this town.”
“You would do well to keep your mouth shut until you open it before the judge,” Langworth said through his teeth.
“Come, Canon Langworth. Touch nothing, Harry Robinson,” Edmonton said in parting, holding up a warning finger. “We will return as soon as we are able.”
The four of them left together with the young man, still twisting his cap as if he feared he might be blamed.
Tom Garth remained on the path outside, staring at us.
“Come in for a moment, Tom,” Harry said, holding the door. “We may have no bloody food in this house, but I can put my hands on a bottle of wine. God knows we could all do with a drink, even if it’s not yet dinner time.”
Tom came in, apparently too stunned to speak, and the three of us settled around the kitchen table.
“Thank God that infernal heat has broken, at least,” Harry said, uncorking a bottle.
“Doctor Sykes,” Tom said, shaking his head, his eyes fixed on his glass. “Who would have thought.”
“Langworth didn’t kill him,” I said, leaning my elbows on the table and pressing my fingers to my temples. I could hardly begin to see where this latest news fit into the tangle of deaths and plots. “You could see it in his face. Unless he is the most skilled actor I have ever witnessed. He looked as if he’d taken a blow to the balls when he heard the news.”
“Besides,” Harry said, pouring out three glasses and knocking back his own in one draught, “he was within our sights almost all morning.”
“Sykes was alive this morning,” I said, trying to piece it together. “He was called out to the Kingsley house to confirm the old housekeeper dead—”
“Sir Edward’s housekeeper is dead?” Harry blinked. “Old Meg? That is sad news—she was a good woman.”
“My sister was fond of her,” Tom said, without looking up.
“It’s more than sad,” I said. “And it was no accident. But that is another matter. So Sykes left St. Gregory’s in time for the news to have made it to the marketplace by about eight o’clock this morning. Where did he go after that?”
“Into the river,” Tom said, helpfully.
“Not of his own will he didn’t, not with a stone—oh, Mother of Christ!” I looked at Harry. He nodded.
“I thought as much when the fellow said it.”
“ ‘But whoso shall offend one of these little ones, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea,’ ” I murmured. “It was a punishment.”
Tom lifted his head.
“I know that Scripture. A punishment for what?”
I looked at him for a moment, then fished in my purse.
“Tom—Doctor Robinson is near faint with hunger and likely to murder me if he doesn’t eat soon. Is there any chance you could send to the inn for some dinner? Here’s money—beef stew if they have any, and maybe a pie, and pickled beetroot. Oh, and bread. And get yourself a beer. I would go, but I should wait here in case Canon Langworth comes back with those apes.”
Tom took the shilling I held out and turned it admiringly in the light, as if impressed that someone like me could so easily lay hands on ready money.
“I will, sir. And would you like me to check on that outbuilding on my way, explain the situation?”
I clutched my head. Poor Sophia—I had almost forgotten her in the drama of Sykes’s death. Now we had no way of knowing when Langworth and Edmonton would be back to search the house, and she could not return until they had done so. At least she had something to read, I thought, and the hairs on my arms stood up to think of her trying to unlock the secrets of that book with her scant Greek.
“Thank you, Tom. Very much appreciated.”
“Least I can do really,” he said, with a sheepish smile, and stood up, knocking over his stool. It was difficult not to like this big, clumsy man, despite the fact that he had tried to condemn Sophia to save his own neck. I hoped I was not wrong to take him at his word.
After we heard the door slam closed behind him, Harry poured us each another glass and I continued to study the table, chin on my fist, as if the answer might be written in the coarse grain of the oak.
“It’s not a coincidence. It can’t be. Someone knew about the children. That’s what the stone was for.”
“Sure you’re not reading too much into it, Bruno? If you throw a body in a river, you want to make sure it sinks.”
“Then you would use a bigger stone. Someone wanted this gesture to be seen. But who in God’s name was it, Harry? Who knew about the children? Only you and me, and Old Meg, but she is dead. After that, only Langworth himself. And if the Widow Gray is right, the mayor is the fourth guardian, but could the mayor of Canterbury stab a man in broad daylight and throw his body in a river in the centre of town?”
