witness how investigations were conducted.
Even this early in the morning the street was busy. Hawkers strolled, yelling their offers to the world, horses clattered along the partly cobbled way, wagons thumped and rattled past, and Simon smiled to see the children running and jumping in and among the traffic. He saw the woman in gray, her child nearby, but she did not appear to recognize him. He did not blame her: it had been late when he helped her, and dark in the street. She stood quietly, a begging bowl in her hand, smiling pitifully at all who passed in a desperate attempt to win alms. Simon averted his gaze. There were so many, especially after the years of famine, who needed the charity of others to survive, yet the sight of beggars always made him feel uncomfortable.
All along the way Roger found his nostrils assailed by the fumes of the busy, growing town. Sharp woodsmoke gave a wholesome background, but more pervasive was the noisome stench rising from the open sewer in the street, to which the dung of horses, oxen, pigs and sheep all added their malodorous reek. As they approached the inn, the smells altered, subtly proclaiming the presence of the butcher.
They stopped to watch. The butcher’s was on the corner of two streets, right next to the inn, and behind it Roger could make out the cookshop. A little beyond was the lane which led behind the cookshop, past the stables, to the inn’s yard. Before the inn itself was the small pile of animal remains Baldwin had stood in the night before; now four stray dogs hovered over it, snatching what they could and snarling at each other.
In front of the butcher’s itself Roger saw the rotund little figure of Adam at his work, a large knife in his hand, and dressed in his heavy old apron. The rector paid little attention; he was staring at a hawker further up the street when there was a loud, piercing squeal that made the hair on the back of his neck tingle.
When Roger turned in horror, he saw that the butcher had stuck a pig. It hung upside down from a tripod by a rope around its hind legs, jerking and twitching as the blood bubbled and gushed from the vivid gash in its throat, dripping into a large pot underneath. As its struggles decreased, the butcher slit it from breast to pelvis, and the entrails, massive ropes of yellow brown, suddenly slithered free like so many snakes from a sack. An assistant was already tipping boiling water over the animal and readying his razor to remove all the bristles from the body, and Adam had his hands inside the carcass pulling out the heart and lungs as he watched.
The smell of rotting flesh pervaded the street. Although many townspeople complained regularly to Baldwin about the smells and the flies, there was little he could do. If folk wanted to eat, the butcher must ply his trade. It was a shame that feces voided from the bowels of animals were dumped until they could be carried to the midden, for it created an unwholesome aroma, but the guts must be cleaned so that sausages could be made. Little if anything was wasted from a pig’s carcass.
When the body had been carelessly shaved and carried away, a fresh hog was brought to its three-legged scaffold. Adam stropped his knife and waited while it was hauled aloft, squealing in rage and terror, its evil little eyes rolling wildly in fury. Seeing the three men watching, Adam smiled and waved, and Roger thought to himself how like a hog the butcher himself looked, with his little shining eyes and round features.
They walked on across the street. It was only a matter of yards from here to the jail, and Simon’s eyes were on the small, squat building, but when he shot a glance at Baldwin, the knight was staring at the inn almost opposite.
“What is it?” Simon asked.
“Oh, I was just thinking that being here, near the market, the inn must often have wagons parked outside it. Look, one is there now.”
“Yes.” The bailiff could see the old cart, the horse standing slack and tired, thin and ragged from underfeeding and maltreatment. “So what?”
“I had thought it would be too obvious for Cole to try to get the silver out through a window on the street, but look! If a stranger parked a carriage of some sort here, it would be noticed immediately, but a man could wait nearby, and take the things from the window, couldn’t he? If there was someone there now, he would be hidden from sight by the butcher’s wagon.”
“But if the silver weighed so much that three men were needed to carry it…”
“Oh yes, but he could have had more than one accomplice, or he might have passed it out in small parcels. That way his companion could have stood here for a few minutes, then gone to hide the silver and come back for the next instalment. Always hidden, always out of sight behind a wagon. It would be a perfect arrangement.”
“There’s one thing I don’t understand.”
“What?” Baldwin looked at him with a faint grin. Simon was a long way from being himself, he thought, but he did seem to be mending. It was not only the way he had smiled at his wife over breakfast; he had a different look to him. Last night he was peevish and complaining, but now that he had something to occupy his mind, he had almost become the cautious and thoughtful man whom Baldwin remembered. Apart from anything else, raising objections to Baldwin’s ideas was a sure sign that the bailiff was improving.
“Let’s say you’re right and he had an accomplice out here…”
“He must have had an accomplice somewhere, whether here or out back, in the yard.”
“Fine. If that’s right, why did he still have two plates on him?”
Baldwin stopped. “I…What?”
“If you’re right, then he must have passed everything out to his companion. So why did he have two plates on him when he was caught?”
“I suppose he might have discovered that his friend had gone so he had to take them out himself when he left the room.”
“Through the hall, you mean? That makes no sense. If he was part of an organized group, the reason for having someone outside was so he didn’t need to carry anything himself. Nor would he have left any spare things behind, like the saltcellar. If he was going to carry out something worthwhile, he’d have gone for that, but instead he took two plates, the last things I would have expected him to choose.”
“It would have been easier to hide two plates. They are flatter,” the knight suggested.
“True, but even better would be nothing. Why risk discovery by carrying them? Far better to leave them behind and make good his escape. Especially since you’re supposing his accomplice had disappeared-in that circumstance, I would have expected him to get out and not take anything with him. His only interest would be in how fast he could vanish, not what else he could take with him. That’s what I find so difficult.”
“Why? He was greedy, that’s all. He’s a thief. All right, so his accomplice had to leave for some reason, or maybe he simply took too long to get back. Whatever, Cole found himself with the last two plates and decided to brazen it out.”
“If you were him, would you have taken out those plates? Put yourself in his shoes. The whole theft has been thought out carefully, even down to the accomplice outside. And then the accomplice disappears…you don’t know why, but surely you would suspect he had been seen. You still have to escape-and that means walking through the hall, under the eyes of thirty-odd men. You have two plates left out of God alone knows how many, and you are so blase you decide to take them with you? I find that hard to believe!”
“Thieves can be irrational.”
“Not so irrational, surely, that when they know they’re being chased they keep some spoil on them! He would get rid of any incriminating evidence as soon as he discovered his pursuit.”
“You might have a point, but think on this: you have just had to murder a girl as well. That has thrown your plans all awry. You hide the body, and then escape, taking the shortest route. It could well be that your accomplice never disappeared: after having to commit murder, you decide to get out through the window yourself.”
“Somebody would see a man diving out through a window.”
“Would they? If so much silver could be shoved out without being noticed, I doubt it. If somebody’s carriage was in the way, maybe no one could see. Cole could have jumped out and remained hidden, then gone on later.”
“But, Sir Baldwin,” Roger interrupted, “who closed the shutters afterward?”
Baldwin found that he was frowning. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a merchant staring at them. Grinning apologetically, he continued in a mutter, “I have no idea, but it is the best explanation I can think of for now.”
“I want to know what really happened,” Simon stated.
Baldwin raised a fist to hammer on the door. “Well, rather than speculating, let’s find out. Simon, I…Where are you going?”
“Just a thought, Baldwin,” Simon called over his shoulder.
