‘Fooled me.’ Hempe grinned. ‘We have not met, Ambrose, though I remember your voice, and your playing.’ He bobbed his head and took the seat Magda indicated. ‘The captain has told me of your reasons for coming to York, and the tale you tell of your movements since meeting the vicar in the minster. Ronan’s clerk tells a different story. He claims you returned to Ronan’s room, switched cloaks, and stole money and jewels hidden in the same chest in which you found the replacement cloak.’
‘He is wrong. The cloak you see there on the hook is the one Ronan traded with me. May he rest in God’s grace.’ Ambrose crossed himself, cleared his throat. ‘This clerk – does he claim to have witnessed me entering the lodging?’
‘No,’ said Hempe. ‘He concluded it from the cloak on the bed, the missing items.’
‘So it might have been anyone,’ said Owen. ‘And it’s possible that it was for the treasure that Ronan was murdered, rather than a mistaken attack on a man wearing Ambrose’s magnificent cloak. You said earlier that you and Ronan were friends when you lived here?’
‘Acquaintances. He knew someone who sold pieces of instruments I used to repair my own.’
‘An honest source?’ Hempe asked.
‘For my sins, I did not care to ask,’ said Ambrose. ‘In exchange, I arranged his attendance at a few private performances. As my aide.’
‘He enjoyed music?’ asked Hempe.
‘As I said, I did not ask.’
Owen and Hempe exchanged a look. Another curious detail about the dead man.
‘You should know that I have been followed all along, at least since Calais,’ said Ambrose. ‘But until now, nothing happened. Whoever it was never took the opportunity to toss me into the sea or over a cliff. Yet so persistent. I could not lose him. Or perhaps them. And now, since Cawood – I am sure another man, or group of men, followed us from there. My companion was aware of them as well, asking me what sort of trouble I was in.’
‘And this woman,’ said Hempe, ‘what do you know of her?’
‘Very little.’
‘Who are these men we found?’ asked Hempe.
Ambrose lifted his arms as if to say, Who, indeed? But there was concern in his expression. ‘Neville’s perhaps? Or he who has followed me since France. It might be anyone, for anything. I do not know. I swear to you I do not.’
‘But you sought Ronan’s help with Neville’s men,’ said Owen.
Did he hesitate before saying yes? ‘I thought I might have been caught spying at Cawood. And the family might think it best to silence me elsewhere. Ronan agreed it was likely, and, as I told you, Owen, he chose my cloak as a reasonable payment for his help. He would talk to them.’
‘So they are in York?’ Owen asked.
‘He did not say, and I was in no position to question his intentions.’ A deep breath. Ambrose wiped his eyes. ‘God forgive me.’
‘You know nothing of the woman’s background? No one had shown interest?’ asked Hempe.
‘There was a man. At Cawood. He stared at her and no one else as we performed. Someone’s retainer, far back in the shadows, but the eyes so keen I felt them as we stood together singing. I searched the crowd and found him. It was so at both performances.’
‘Was she ever out of your sight?’
‘While I arranged for a spy hole, and while I sat there listening, yes, of course. Are you thinking she might have met this man? That he— Perhaps I should see the bodies.’
‘Why was this runaway in your company?’ Hempe asked Ambrose.
‘Someone had discovered the truth of her, and meant to take his pleasure,’ said Ambrose.
‘Vile,’ Hempe growled.
‘The question before us is how to protect you while we search for the murderer. Or murderers,’ said Owen.
‘More than one?’ asked Ambrose.
‘Possibly,’ said Owen, not caring to elaborate.
‘I could leave the city,’ said Ambrose.
‘No, that I cannot permit,’ said Hempe. ‘I propose the jail of the archbishop’s palace. It is not in use at present.’
Owen began to point out that it was a Neville property, but Magda interrupted. ‘Who will cook for him? Keep him in fuel for a fire?’ It was the first time she had spoken.
‘Do you have a better idea?’ Hempe snapped, reddening as he remembered himself. A man so in awe of the Riverwoman treating her so … He made a conciliatory gesture.
Magda ignored it. ‘Thou hast a room in thy house for a boarder. Empty since Old Nat died.’
‘How do you know that?’ Hempe frowned. ‘Of course, Lotta told me that you had brought Old Nat a soothing tisane and a rub for his joints. But I am not a jailer.’
‘Nor is Minstrel a murderer. He was with Magda when the men died. Wouldst thou mistreat an innocent man?’
‘Dame Magda—’ Hempe implored.
‘Can you pay your way, Ambrose?’ Owen asked.
‘I would pay you well for the trouble, bailiff,’ said Ambrose.
Hempe’s expression softened. ‘Pay. I had not thought— So we would consider you a boarder?’
‘A boarder who does not venture forth except in the company of a few of our men, armed,’ said Owen. ‘It means he cannot buy his meals at the market stalls, nor take his wash to a laundress.’
‘Lotta enjoys cooking for an appreciative eater,’ said Hempe, considering. ‘And she could arrange for the laundering. You must work out with my wife when you might make music so as not to disturb her.’
Ambrose gave a little bow. ‘Of course.’
‘My men Alfred and Stephen can take shifts watching the house,’ said Owen.
Hempe looked from him to Magda. ‘Had the two of you planned this?’
Owen assured him they had not.
‘Bird-eye does not know Lotta as Magda does. She will welcome the challenge.’
‘I believe you are right about my Lotta.’ Slapping his thighs, Hempe suggested they depart at once.
SIX
Haunted Souls
The onset of winter brought a crush of folk to the apothecary seeking remedies for coughs, fever, earaches, headaches, stomach upsets, catarrh, as well as injuries from falls and
