to d’Arderon’s office. The serjeant was gone for only a few moments and, when he reappeared, walked over to Bascot and told him that the preceptor would be pleased to hear his report of what had transpired at Grimsby as soon as the service of Vespers was done.
The bell above the chapel began to chime and Bascot followed the others into the church. With so many extra men in the commandery, the small chapel was crowded, and each man brushed the shoulders of those standing next to him. As Brother John opened the service with the prayer of lauds for the dead, Bascot felt a deep sorrow rise within him. It was a familiar emotion, one that had occurred during every previous case of murder he had investigated. The wilful slaying of another human being reminded him of a poisonous creeping plant, spreading its miasma from the dead person to everyone associated with the victim. The murder of the prostitute in the chapel where he was now standing had left Elfie’s little daughter, Ducette, an orphan. And whether or not Scallion’s death was connected to the killings in Lincoln, his murder in a heathen brothel had brought deep grief to his sister, Joan, and his lifelong friend, the steersman Askil. Murder not only spawned death, but also grief in equal measures. The act was insidious.
When the service was over, Bascot went directly to d’Arderon’s office. After the long ride from Grimsby, during which he and Roget had stopped only to partake of the provisions Thorson’s wife had thoughtfully packed for them, Bascot was hungry, but he would have to wait until after he had spoken to d’Arderon to partake of the light evening meal that was being served in the refectory.
Emilius was with the preceptor when Bascot went into d’Arderon’s office. Both men listened without speaking as they were told of the conversation Bascot and Roget had with Bailiff Thorson and their interviews with Joan Scallion and subsequently, her husband, Askil, and Dunny. He then went on to relate Thorson’s suggestion that it was possible that one, or both, of the seamen could have reached Lincoln via the Ancholme River and committed the murders.
“We must fervently hope that the charge against our brother in Acre is false,” d’Arderon said, “but whether it is or not, if the relatives and friends of the boat owner believe it to be true, it is conceivable that one of them is seeking revenge for his death. If that is what happened, then all of our brothers in the preceptory can be absolved of guilt.”
Emilius immediately concurred, and Bascot could see the glimmer of hope on their faces. The rumour that it had been a Templar who had murdered a Christian in the Holy Land was a stigma on the Order, but Acre was far away and the truth about the incident may not be learned for many months, if at all; their first priority must be to absolve, if they could, the brothers stationed in the Lincoln commandery. It was with great reluctance that he dashed the two officers’ burgeoning optimism as he explained that two of the men in the contingent, Alan of Barton and Thomas of Penhill, could quite easily have been friends, perhaps of long standing, of the dead boat owner.
“Scallion did most of the English end of his business with merchants in Hull,” he told them. “He loaded commodities, mainly wool, from the Yorkshire area and, for a commission from local merchants, delivered them to ports in Flanders and Normandy. He would then, apparently, travel down the coast of the Iberian Peninsula, stopping at ports in Spain and Portugal and buying items such as wine, furs and even small loads of timber that would be easy to sell to merchants in the Holy Land. Once in Outremer, he made his regular purchase of the onions that had proved such a popular item, along with a small supply of spices and silk, and returned home, selling the cargo at ports along the way. Each voyage might take him a year or more, but he usually returned to Grimsby at the end of each trip to visit his sister before going to Hull to arrange his cargo for the next journey. Since this would necessitate spending some weeks in the Hull area, it is feasible he would have been known in Barton and quite probably Faxfleet, and could have come into contact with both Alan and Thomas.”
The information slightly daunted the preceptor, but he took the time to reflect on what Bascot had told him. “That may be true of Alan,” he said finally, “for he admits that he grew up in Barton, but not necessarily of Thomas. Delivering the preceptory’s horses to Faxfleet would only bring him into contact with the captain and crew of a ship belonging to the Order. He would have no reason to mingle with crews of other vessels anchored along the estuary. It is quite possible he may never have heard of Scallion, let alone met him.”
“I agree, Preceptor,” Bascot said. “But I still think it would be prudent to question Thomas as well as Alan. We must be certain that neither man knew the trader before we can acquit them of any involvement in his death.”
“If they are guilty, they will lie, and will be warned of our interest in them,” Emilius said in a depressed manner.
“That may not be an undesirable outcome, Draper,” Bascot replied. “If one, or both, is responsible for the harlots’ deaths, knowing of our suspicion will prevent them from making an attempt on the life of another prostitute. That alone makes questioning them worthwhile.”
Emilius reluctantly nodded and then said to d’Arderon, “And the rest of the contingent, Preceptor, if they are now deemed clear of involvement, will you allow them to depart for Plymouth? All of them grow restless with the delay. Such a mood is not beneficial for morale.”
“They will suffer far worse discomfort when they are forced to camp in the arid terrain of Portugal,” d’Arderon growled. “The experience will teach them patience.”
“As you command, Preceptor,” Emilius replied constrainedly. “It is merely that with this aura of suspicion laying over all of us, I am concerned that the dedication of those who are recently initiated will suffer.”
D’Arderon sighed and relented a little. He knew that the draper was trying to maintain a semblance of order. “You are right, of course, Emilius. We must encourage the men, especially those who have recently taken their vows. I will wait to see the outcome of Sheriff Camville’s enquiries about Sven Grimson. After that is done, I will reassess the situation.”
The preceptor spoke to Bascot. “It is too late in the day now, but in the morning we will question Alan and Thomas. Hopefully their answers will clear them of suspicion.”
In the castle, after Roget made his report to Gerard Camville, the sheriff directed John Blund to pen a message that was to be sent to the king’s authorities in Hull. In it, the secretary was to write a request that enquiries be made of the men who Grimson had claimed would substantiate that the fisherman and his wife were in the port during the time the harlots were murdered. Camville also instructed the secretary to add a directive that if Grimson proved to be telling the truth, the port-reeves along the estuary were to be asked if any had knowledge of where he had anchored his vessel during his stay.
“Thorson states that if Grimson moored his craft on the southern shore of the Humber, it would have been much easier for the seamen to take a skiff to the mouth of the Ancholme River,” Camville said, “so it is important that, if possible, the bailiff’s supposition is verified. Ensure that requirement is made clear in the message, Blund, as is the need for haste.”
The secretary dutifully wrote the letter, using words of his own composition. Although Gerard Camville was competent enough in numeracy, he had little skill with literacy, and once Blund finished the document he read aloud what he had written. The sheriff nodded and appended his signature to the document.
“Send one of the men-at-arms off with that at first light. With good fortune, we may have an answer within three or four days.”
Later that evening, Nicolaa De La Haye sent a manservant to find Gianni and bid him attend her in the castle solar. Gianni was in the barracks when the manservant came with the message, sitting with some of the off-duty men-at-arms and listening to them challenge each other with simple riddles. The boy jumped up immediately when he learned that Lady Nicolaa wished to see him and hastily smoothed down his unruly mop of dark brown curls and gave a straightening tug to his tunic. Then he ran as fast as he could across the bail and into the keep. His heart was filled with trepidation as he sped up the stairs of the tower in the western corner of the fortress and to the room on the top storey where Nicolaa was wont to take her leisure after the evening meal. The castellan must have sent for him because of the letter he had given to Master Blund. Even though the secretary had relayed her commendation of his initiative, Gianni still feared the reason for her summons. She had always been kind to him, but she was a lady who held the reins of great power in her capable hands and one who would not look kindly on any action she perceived as insolent. Had she sent for him because even though she accepted the merit of his observations, she was angry that he, a lowly apprentice clerk, had dared to ask her to forward a message to his former master? Did she see his action as one that smacked of conceit? Was it possible he was about to be reprimanded, or even dismissed from his post? He tried to push his fears from his mind as he cautiously pushed
