sheriff to suspect a hidden cache of valuables from King Stephen’s reign was involved in the murder of Peter Brand. He then briefly recounted the torturous route that led to knowledge of the involvement of Cerlo and eventually to Legerton’s manor house.
“I wonder the exchanger did not use some of the treasure to pay off his debts. There are a couple of men of my acquaintance that would be more than pleased to receive the sum he owes them,” de Laxton said when Bascot finished.
“Legerton could not pay them in old coin without it being remarked upon. Only the jewellery could be turned into current coinage by selling it to someone such as Tasser. Legerton could not take it to the silversmith himself without Tasser becoming suspicious as to why the exchanger needed to borrow money when he had such valuables to sell, and if Cerlo, a lowly mason, had taken it, the silversmith would have immediately become suspicious of the jewellery’s provenance. I think the pair, knowing how desperate Brand was to save enough money to wed a girl in Grantham, paid the clerk to take it to Tasser. He was an educated lad and not from Lincoln, his story of the jewellery being part of an inheritance would seem plausible.”
“But how did they intend to realise any profit from the cache if it could not be exchanged anywhere?” de Laxton asked.
“I think Legerton intended to wait until he could travel outside of Lincoln,” Bascot replied, “or even outside the realm, perhaps, and arrange for it to be exchanged or sold. And such a scheme would have worked if Brand had not been murdered by Fardein. Cerlo, I think, would have been content to wait for his share until Legerton had made such a trip, Brand was happy with the payment he received for his involvement, and Legerton looked forward to having enough money to pay off his debts and resume his extravagant lifestyle. It was a well-laid plan, and only foiled by the greed of Tasser’s apprentice.”
“And the coins Brand was taking to the mason must have been Legerton’s surety he would fulfill his part of the bargain with Cerlo,” de Laxton said. “If the exchanger had betrayed the agreement, the mason had evidence of an unreported cache. That would be enough to ensure Legerton turned over his share.”
“I think so,” Bascot replied. “I am not certain why the mason did not take some of the coins at the time the trove was found, but it could be they did not come to any arrangement until later.”
“And you believe the trove is still on the exchanger’s property?” de Laxton asked.
“It would be difficult to move sacks of coin and valuables to another location without someone in Legerton’s household taking notice. The sheriff thinks it likely it has been kept in the place it was found,” Bascot replied and, as the gates of the manor house came into view added, “We will soon find out if he is right.”
Thirty-one
The gate in the palisade encircling the property was open when Bascot and de Laxton arrived. Ignoring the shout of the gateward, they swept through the portal, the mounted soldiers close behind. As they dismounted in front of the manor house, a manservant came running out, alarmed by shouts of warning from the guard on the gate. Bascot pushed the manservant aside and strode into the hall.
When they entered, Legerton was sitting at the table on the dais in conversation with Simon Partager, who was standing beside the exchanger’s chair. Both men looked up in surprise, as did Legerton’s sister, Silvana, who was directing servants in erecting trestle tables for the evening meal, as the two knights and troop of soldiers burst into the room. Sitting at one of the tables was Iseult Partager, and her huge blue eyes grew round with astonishment at sight of the armed contingent.
“Sir Bascot,” Legerton exclaimed, “what is the meaning-”
The Templar cut him short. “I am here to arrest you, Master Legerton, on a charge of complicity in concealment of a treasure trove. You are to be taken to the castle for questioning and your property searched.”
As he spoke, Bascot pulled the warrant Camville had given him before he left the castle from the inside of his tunic. The sheriff’s seal dangled from the parchment. Legerton gaped at it in astonishment.
“Treasure trove?” he gasped. “I know nothing of any trove.”
“Do you deny that you employed a stonemason named Cerlo to carry out repairs to your property and that, while he did so, he found a hidden cache of valuables? Or that you agreed with him to suppress the discovery?”
All of Legerton’s bombastic self-assurance drained from him. In a bewildered fashion, he repeated his denial. “I know nothing of this matter, nothing at all.”
“Your accomplice, the mason, is dead, Legerton.” Beside the exchanger, Partager took a step backwards, his face ashen as Bascot went on. “But before he died he revealed the secret you shared. You will remain under guard while we search your home.”
Signalling to two of the men-at-arms, he ordered them to take the exchanger prisoner. As they started for the dais Silvana stepped in front of the soldiers and blocked their passage. “It was not my brother who hired the mason, Sir Bascot,” she declared defiantly. “It was me. Walter was not even here when Cerlo carried out the work. He was in London, attending a meeting of exchangers at the treasury. It was because of Walter being away that I arranged for the work to be done, so he would not be disturbed by the upheaval.”
The Templar regarded her for a long moment. She seemed composed, but he could see that her hands were shaking and she quickly hid them from sight in the folds of her gown. Was her claim a desperate attempt to shield her brother, Bascot wondered, or was it the truth?
“Then, mistress, it seems it is you I must take into custody.”
“If you will,” Silvana replied quietly. “But I, like my brother, know nothing of the mason discovering a treasure trove while he was at work here.”
“So you say. But since I know he did, how do you explain your ignorance of its existence? If the excellent condition of this manor house is used as a rule by which to judge your competence, I do not believe you would leave a workman completely unsupervised. Did you not inspect his work while it was in progress?”
“No,” Silvana said, “I did not.” Her tone faltered for a moment and under the chilly gaze of Bascot’s blue eye, she looked desperately towards where her brother sat, Simon Partager still standing by his side. All those in the hall, the servants, de Laxton and the men-at-arms had fallen silent at her intervention and there was a hush as they listened to the exchange between her and the Templar.
Bascot did not give Silvana time to concoct an excuse. “I am waiting, mistress, for an explanation of your statement,” he said abruptly. “I know that Cerlo shared his discovery of the trove with another person at this manor. If it was not you, and you claim it was not your brother, who was it?”
Silvana took a deep breath and steadied herself. “I can judge the skill of a cook or a sempstress,” she said, “but to assess the competence of a mason is more the province of a man than a woman. I asked one of my husband’s employees to oversee Cerlo’s work.”
“And his name?” Bascot said impatiently, still not sure whether Silvana was prevaricating or simply trying to delay her brother’s arrest.
“It was-”
Silvana’s reply was curtailed by a cry from her brother and a shout from Simon Partager. Everyone jumped with alarm as the assayer grasped Legerton around the neck and pulled the dagger he wore from his belt. He pressed the point of the blade to the exchanger’s throat.
“It was me,” Partager said as he wrested Legerton to his feet and held him fast. “And I will kill this fornicating bastard if you do not let me leave here unharmed.”
Iseult gave a cry of alarm at her husband’s admission. The sound brought a bitter peal of laughter from Simon. “I did it for you, you bitch,” he cried. “So I could have enough money to buy the baubles that entice you to other men’s beds. You are nothing but a trollop, but I love you…”
His words ended on a sob and Bascot, seeing Iseult’s outcry had distracted her husband for a moment, took a step forward, his hand on his sword, but Simon noticed the movement and pushed the dagger deeper into Legerton’s neck. A thin stream of blood began to trickle from the wound.
“Stay where you are, Templar, else I will kill him,” Simon warned. “And tell that other knight and your men to keep back. It is not my intent to die, but if I must, I will take this whoreson with me.”
