Roberta Gellis (24 page)

“I do not think this holds jewelry,” he said. “Why should Bertrild make such a large, flat package?”

“Parchments? Records?”

“I think so, and though my conscience is pricking me, I am enough of your mind that I will open it to make sure some relatively innocent—

“Wait,” Magdalene said as he drew his knife. “Let Letice lift the seals if she can. Then we can decide whether we wish to destroy what is here or restore it and bring it to Octadenarius.”

Bell looked at her uneasily. “You mean pretend we never looked inside this as you pretended you had never seen the papal messenger’s pouch?”

“Yes,” Magdalene replied, her eyes laughing although she managed to control her lips, “just exactly as I treated the papal messenger’s pouch. No harm at all was done by the delay of a few days in its delivery. And, Bell, did you ever stop to think what a disaster would have befallen the bishop of Winchester if that pouch had been given into his hands immediately after Baldassare died?”

“Never mind the bishop,” Bell said, not as successful in controlling his incipient grin as she. “Consider what would have befallen you. He would have had to say he got it from you, and you would have been hung.”

“Oh, I did consider it. I did. I did not mean to play the innocent. All I meant to say was that there are times when a small subterfuge provides benefit to all and harms none.”

Bell sighed. “There are such things as the principle of honesty—”

The smile had left Magdalene’s eyes. “To a whore there can be no consideration of principles at all, only first what is necessary for her, then, if possible, what is best for all.”

“But you
have
principles, Magdalene. I have seen them at work—”

“Perhaps I have,” she interrupted hastily, “but I am also a woman, and women—” the smile came back into her eyes and lifted the corners of her lips “—seldom allow a principle to interfere with good common sense.”

At that Bell laughed aloud. “Somehow I do not believe that many men would agree that women have any common sense at all as well as not having any principles.”

“Men,” Magdalene said, “would not recognize common sense if it grew teeth and bit them.”

Bell opened his eyes wide. “No. Certainly not in that case,” he agreed too soberly.

Magdalene laughed, but shook her head. “No, but listen. Say there are documents in there from the past that would besmirch or even incriminate a man grown more cautious and honorable, a man who has been honest and upright in his dealings for many years. I do not say that the ill that man did should not be amended if it is possible. Such a thing could be addressed privately, by a priest or…or a bishop’s clerk. All I say is that to show proof of such ill doing to the sheriff or justiciar, who would have no choice but to demand public punishment, would accomplish little except that man’s ruin.”

“I hear you.” Bell’s lips were turned down wryly. “Amended by a bishop’s clerk, eh? You mean to make me drag Winchester into this? And what of those cases where real harm has been done—murder or rape or lands reft away?”

“That,” Magdalene said, looking triumphant, “is why I desire that Letice lift the seals. For such cases, if there be any, we will return the documents to the packet and seal it all up again. Then it can be delivered to Master Octadenarius with the true story of its coming from Master Gerlund, who held it for Bertrild. Octadenarius can do with it what he wishes.”

Bell groaned and shook his head. “I am not a very good liar,” he said faintly.

“No, but I am,” Magdalene responded, going to the door, lifting the latch, and pulling the latchstring into its usual position. “And I know Master Octadenarius well enough to explain how Mainard happened to give me the parcel but that you said it would be best if he had it. You need not even be there.”

“Likely he will ask me about it the next time I see him and I will turn red….”

Magdalene blinked and then opened her eyes in a stare of innocence. “Just say ‘That Magdalene’ or something like. You do look like a ripe radish when you lose your temper.” Whereupon Bell promptly proved the truth of her statement by flushing. She laughed aloud, but only said, “I will get Letice now and ask if she can undo the seals.”

At first, poor Letice simply stood and shook her head, making clear by sign that she had never done such a thing, but when Magdalene explained the purpose, she took the packet from Bell and examined it with minute care. Finally, she showed Magdalene that the leather on one side had been folded over all the other folds in a final closing, and because that was a short side, there was only one cord that passed over it. This had a thick wax seal over the place where it passed over another cord, but there was no knot there.
If that
seal and one farther up on the same cord could be loosened, the cord could be slid sideways over the end of the packet. Perhaps then Letice could raise the seals on the edge of the closure and that one end of the leather wrapping could be unfolded. From that opening, with luck, the contents could be extracted.

Bell and Magdalene discussed it for only a couple of moments before they urged Letice to try. Letice bit her lip and looked worried. Bell patted her shoulder.

“Do not let it trouble you if you cannot open it without any sign,” he said, looking relieved. “If worse comes to worst, I will simply discard the wrapping and tell Master Octadenarius that Mainard, having no idea what was within but wanting no part of anything of his wife’s, asked me to look at the contents. I did, and when I saw evidence of crimes, I brought it to him.”

“Good enough,” Magdalene agreed and began to clear off the table where she did her accounts.

Letice went to the kitchen to find a broad-bladed knife, and Dulcie followed her back, carrying a small brazier on which to heat it. Although the task had looked far more formidable than lifting the flat seal on a document, it turned out to be easier than expected. The seals were thick blobs of wax without any delicate impression that must not be distorted. Then, instead of being attached all across a broad, flat surface, the wax only adhered to the leather in a few spots. Letice was able to slide the hot knife under the wax without even distorting the shape the seal had taken on when applied, which meant they had only to slip the cord under it and press it down again when they wished to reseal the packet. As to any marks on the leather that showed the seal had been moved, the thick blob could be spread just a little to conceal such marks without showing signs of tampering.

In a surprisingly short time, the leather wrapping was unfolded. Fortunately, it was not very tight and it was easy enough to slide the box out. All three stared at it for a long moment. Then Letice put her hands over her eyes, then over her ears, and shook her head. She did not want to know. Bell patted her again, and Magdalene gave her a brief hug. She and Dulcie removed the evidence of their crime and closed the door behind them as they left. Bell opened the box.

The bell at the gale pealed, and Magdalene folded her lips together over an obscenity. This was one day on which she really did not want any extra clients. Ella and Letice were already occupied with men, Diot had not yet returned, and Sabina was in her own chamber giving Haesel a lesson in French. Still, she rose and went out to deal with whoever was waiting, resolved to send the man away despite the loss.

She and Bell had spent all morning poring over the contents of Bertrild’s box with mingled horror and disgust. At first they thought they had nothing more than a set of accounts, for the pages of the first collection of parchments, neatly holed and tied together with silk ribbons, were filled with names and dates, followed by a second number, and amounts of money. Neither Bell nor Magdalene could think of why a set of accounts should be wrapped with such care and stored with a goldsmith, but then Magdalene recalled what Sabina had told her about Bertrild’s obsession with her father’s lands and mentioned it to Bell.

Both agreed if the wrapping and deposit in the care of a goldsmith was merely a mark of obsession, the parchment could be sold to a scribe to be scraped clean and the contents of the box forgotten. They almost set the sheets aside at that point, but Bell, idly leafing through them, noted that the names were almost never repeated. That would be impossible for estate accounts. The same people paid rent in kind—usually a share of their crops—or performed a service for their landlord season after season and year after year.

That was strange enough to make Bell open the second bound-together package of parchment sheets. Here he found the reason for the care and secrecy with which the packet had been treated. The sheets did not record estate accounts but the means by which Gervase de Genlis, Bertrild’s father, had lived after he had ruined his estates.

Apparently, Gervase sold his name and seal to any man who wanted a noble witness to a transaction, legitimate or not. He was paid for this service, and the first collection of records listed who paid him and the date on which he affixed his seal as witness. The odd number beside the date, Magdalene discovered, referred to the second collection of sheets, which, beginning with the number, gave a surprisingly full description of what Gervase had witnessed but did not indicate for whom nor the date.

Bell and Magdalene soon became so fascinated by what they read that they ate their dinner in Magdalene’s room. Not all the records referred to cases of false witness. One whole sheet explained the jeweled necklet and why neither Gervase nor Bertrild had dared sell it. Gervase had taken it as a bribe to transmit letters from several known rebels to Robert of Gloucester, most powerful of Henry I’s bastards and a key to many English barons’ acceptance of Stephen as king. To encourage Robert of Gloucester to cry defiance against King Stephen—and letters from such notorious rebels as Geoffrey Talbot, Ralph Lovel, and William Fitzjohn could have no other purpose—was treason. But Gervase was dead and had never left England while he was in London. Someone else had carried those letters.

The number at the end of the page sent them hurriedly to the first set of sheets they had examined. When they found it, they nodded at each other. This was the man who was a wool merchant as well as a mercer and made frequent trips to Normandy. Both reached for the second set of sheets at the same time. Magdalene was a hair quicker and ran her fingers along the lines on each sheet until she found the number.

When she named a place, Bell said, “The farm. The farm that must serve as his collection and storage place for the fleeces. The place is less than a league from the river.” He took the sheet from her, read the item, and nodded. “Gervase swore that the farm was freehold and had been in the possession of FitzRevery all his life. There must have been some doubt cast on the title of the property.”

“To keep her from disclosing this—his delivery of the letters and how he was forced to carry them—is reason enough for murder,” Magdalene said slowly, “but can this man be Saeger also? Surely it was the man Bertrild called Saeger who killed her. Yet she must have seen FitzRevery often because she came to Mainard’s shop every week to collect money. Why did she never call him Saeger?”

“Do we know she did not? I never asked Mainard. I will check on that and see if I can use the name in FitzRevery’s hearing, too. When I questioned him, he said he was at the shop all day, but his journeyman looked so surprised when he agreed to FitzRevery’s claim that I have my doubts it was true.”

Magdalene nodded. “Nonetheless,” she said, “I do not think we should forget about the rest of these documents. Others may turn out to have as good a reason as Master FitzRevery for murdering Bertrild. I wonder what these small rolls are?” She pulled them from the box and unrolled one. “Oh, here are the numbers again.”

Examination disclosed that the parchment rolls recorded further dates and sums of money. Checking back soon made clear that the extra sums had been paid by those involved in rebel activity or whose documents revealed the worst dishonesty. Apparently, Gervase had collected more than his pay for false witness or silence from those men.

“God, the man was as clever as he was evil.” Magdalene sighed. “Each set of sheets alone means very little. I suppose they were kept apart during Gervase’s lifetime. After he died, Bertrild must have collected all the documents into one place. Do you suppose that was when she learned what her father was doing, or did she always know?” She frowned. “But if she learned right after Gervase’s death or always knew, why did she only begin to ask for money about a month ago?”

“I have no idea, except that from what I have seen, most of the money came from those in Hampshire who had agreed to welcome an invasion force under Robert of Gloucester. Yet Gervase must have been part of the group. I wonder how he planned to protect himself?”

“I wonder if Bertrild tried to touch those outside of London and found they no longer cared?” Magdalene remarked, “And only after that began to squeeze the men in London.”

“No longer cared?” Bell echoed. “Why should they—” Then he struck himself a sharp blow on the forehead. “What a fool I am. If they were on the very border of open revolt, of course they would no longer care, but that implies that Gloucester is actually….”

The bell at the gate pealed, and Magdalene lifted her head.

“If you want to go and attend to your women, I can go on with this myself—” Bell urged.

“No,” she said, grinning at him and shaking her head; once he realized there might be political implications, he was not so willing for her to examine the contents of the packet. “If there is any trouble, Ella and Letice know where to find me. For the regular clients, they can manage by themselves.”

Bell grunted irritably and they returned to an examination of the documents. The bell at the gate rang once more, but Magdalene kept her eyes on the neatly written entries. She was doing her best to commit to memory the names of the men in Hampshire from whom Gervase had extorted money so she could send a message to William.