had taken responsibility for ensuring they would not flee, he decided that he could not countenance them setting off unaccompanied, so he came with them.”
“And how did Camville react to this news?”
Roget gave an evil grin. “He lost his temper. I was not there, but Ernulf told me that although he did not rail at Thorson, he told the bailiff he would see the Grimsons at his leisure and they could consider themselves fortunate he did not throw all four of them in the castle gaol.”
Roget urged his horse into a trot as they approached Butwerk and the hovel where Terese lived. “I think he plans to talk to Sven and the others this afternoon, which is another reason why we cannot go to Ingham today. Sir Gerard would like you to be present when he hears what it is they have to say.”
One of the town guards under Roget’s command was on duty outside Terese’s door when they arrived. The captain asked him if all had been well during the rest of the night and, when the soldier nodded, they knocked on the door.
When Terese opened it, it was obvious she had managed to get little sleep. Her erect figure was slightly stooped and lines of weariness etched her face. She bid both of them come in and gently shooed the band of little girls, who were gathered behind her clutching at her skirt, to the far side of the room, urging them to sit quietly while she spoke to their visitors.
“They do not know what has happened, but are aware that something is wrong,” Terese said. “It would be best if we spoke about this matter in quiet tones, so they are not alarmed any further.”
“If you will allow me, mistress, I can think of a way to distract them,” Roget said and strode to the door. Giving the guard a couple of pennies from the purse at his belt, the captain told the soldier to go to the nearest baker and buy two loaves of fresh bread. “And some honey or conserve to spread on it. And don’t dally, or else you will feel the sole of my boot on your backside.”
The guard sped off and Terese smiled. “You are not quite so fearsome as you seem, Captain,” she said.
“Women of all ages should be cherished, not frightened,” Roget responded gallantly.
While they waited for the guard, the captain poured them all a cup of wine from the flask he kept hanging from his saddle and, as soon as the soldier returned and the bread and honey had been distributed among the children-whose eyes all stretched wide at the rare treat-and they were sitting quietly, Roget asked Terese to tell Bascot of her frightening experience the night before.
“I was only a few steps from the stewe,” she said in soft tones, “and just passing the mouth of an alleyway that leads to a midden at the back of the houses. I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye and suddenly I felt something-a cord or a piece of rope-go around my neck and begin to tighten. I barely had time to pull out the knife I have been carrying since Elfie was killed before the garrotte cut off my breath entirely. I am fortunate I had a weapon on me.”
She pulled a small blade about five or six inches long from a small battered sheath strung on a cord around her waist. Although the knife was not very big, Bascot and Roget saw that it had been honed to a fine sharpness on both sides of the blade. The edges glinted wickedly in the narrow shaft of sunlight that came through the small casement beside the front door. “It is the knife I use to cut up vegetables. I had the tinker sharpen it for me,” she explained. “It has served me well.”
“And then, mistress,” Bascot prompted as her eyes began to darken with remembered terror.
Terese recovered her composure and continued, “My cloak must have hampered my attacker from tightening the cord further and, as he moved close behind me to get a better grip, I stabbed out with my little blade.” She demonstrated the action she had used, holding her arm stiffly down at her side and driving the knife backwards.
Her lips drew into a small smile of satisfaction. “I felt it cut into that pig’s flesh, the top of his leg I think, and so I pulled it out and struck again. He gave a grunt of pain and I felt the noose go slack. Then I screamed and the door to the stewe flew open and Verlain’s guard came rushing out. But before he could grab ahold of my attacker, the coward had turned and run back down the alleyway. The guard searched the area, as did two of your constables, Captain, after Verlain rang the alarm bell at the end of the street to summon them, but they could not find him.”
“You showed remarkable courage, mistress,” Bascot said to her.
“Not courage, lord, but desperation. My life may not be worth much, but it is mine, and I do not intend to give it up to any but the Good Lord above when He decides it is time.”
Both men agreed wholeheartedly with her sentiment and Bascot asked if she had seen the face of her attacker.
“No, I did not,” she answered with a dissatisfied grimace. “The moon is in a dark phase so there was not much light in the street, only a small glimmer from the torch outside Verlain’s stewe. And the villain had a cloak on with a hood which shadowed his face. I am sorry, lords, I have been wracking my poor brain all night to try and think of something that may help you identify him, but I cannot. It all happened so fast, and it was very dark.”
“What makes you think it is Elfie’s killer that attacked you, mistress?” Bascot asked. “Might it not have been someone who was merely intent on stealing the money you had just collected from Verlain?”
Terese shook her head. “If it had been a thief, he could have simply struck me over the head to knock me senseless and then robbed me of the little bit of silver I was carrying. This man was intent on killing me. That is why I think it is the same one that murdered poor Elfie and Adele Delorme. In the gloom, it would have been easy for him to have mistaken me for one of the bawds from Verlain’s stewe, for the darkness would have hidden the age lines on my face. And it was in Verlain’s brothel that he found easy prey once before, when he took poor Elfie to your Templar chapel and killed her. No, he was not a thief.”
Bascot put his next question with seeming mildness so as not to influence Terese’s answer in any way. “There is a slim possibility that it might be a woman who is responsible for these crimes. Did you notice anything about your attacker that might indicate whether this could be so?”
After a fleeting glance of surprise, the former harlot gave the question careful consideration. Finally she said that she could not be certain. “I only saw his figure after he-or she-ran back down the alley.” She concentrated for a moment longer as she thought carefully over the attack before reluctantly shaking her head. “I could feel my assailant’s body close against my back, but was not aware of any breasts pressing into me. It could have been a woman who is not buxom but, I am sorry, lord, I cannot be sure.”
“But, whoever it was, you are certain you wounded him?” Bascot pressed.
“Oh, yes, of that I am most positive. My little knife was bloodied to the haft.” Terese gave a grim smile of satisfaction. “And he was limping as he ran away.”
Twenty-one
After leaving Terese, Bascot and Roget rode back to the castle. As they did so, the captain remarked that he was going to ask Gerard Camville to second some of the castle’s men-at-arms to the town guard.
“I have a dozen men,” the captain added. “Two are needed to guard the perfumer’s house-one during the day and another at night-and now another two to keep watch at Terese’s home. That will leave me with only eight men, four for the day shifts and four for nights, to patrol the town. It is not enough to maintain security, especially with this mad dog of a murderer on the loose. It is unfortunate that Terese did not catch a glimpse of the face of the person who attacked her. That would have been most helpful.”
“Even though she did not, Roget,” Bascot replied, “she marked him with her knife and said he was limping from the effect of the wound. We must take particular notice of any man, or woman, who is favouring one leg.”
He paused for a moment and then added, “Terese said, like the man Mistress Turner’s maid saw, that her assailant was of average height. It might be worthwhile to take note of the stance of those in the Grimson party, since they were all in Lincoln last night. Sven is too tall, but Askil would fit the description, and so might Dunny, even if he is perhaps a little short of stature. And if a female is responsible, Joan is the right height and also a strongly built woman.”
“I believe Peter Thorson and the constable he brought with him watched over them all in the lodgings where
