The King of Thieves: (38 page)

Behind him there was a cry, then a patter of boots on the filth of the alley. He threw a quick look over his shoulder, already
feeling the pain in his chest from shortness of breath. He was too old for this sort of activity.
She would pay for this
.

Louvre

Hugues was not up early. The discussion with the Cardinal had taken some while, and by the time the man left him, Amélie had
disappeared. Probably returned to her little pit in the city itself. No matter.

Today, though, he had business. He would have to trail after the Bishop and wait for a suitable opportunity to kill him, but
that wouldn’t be too hard. Even if his assassination was seen, the King himself wanted the troublesome priest out of the way,
so it was likely that witnesses would hold their tongues.

The large block allocated to the guests and their servants was to the west of the main castle, inside the enormous curtain
walls, and he walked along the building idly, keeping an eye open for the Bishop. Surely this was the time he would be returning
from his morning prayers in the chapel? But there was no sign of him as the people poured from the little church. After some
while, Hugues went to the door to peer inside, but there was no one there, and when he asked the priest inside, he was told
that the Bishop had not appeared.

Cursing to himself, he wandered back to the block and leaned against a wall, prepared to wait, glancing up at the sun every
so often.

Temple

The King of Thieves turned out to be quite a young man, perhaps only five-and-twenty years old. He may once have been mannerly,
from the way in which he tried to bow when the yoke had been cut away from him, but all he could achieve was a vague flourish
of the hand, before his legs buckled beneath him.

Baldwin wordlessly passed him a cup of water from the bucket near the door. The King peered into it with a grimace, but sipped
at it, knowing and accepting that there would be nothing better in this life. ‘I am most grateful to you, my lords,’ he said
in a cracked voice. ‘I suppose you have come to experience my hospitality here in my chamber? Pray, try the wine. It is exquisite,
and the food is beyond compare, if you like weevils in your loaf and enjoy sharing it with the cockroaches each day.’

‘I want to know all you can tell me of the murder of the Procureur,’ Baldwin said.

‘Ah … him. And why not the others, Sir Knight? Was this one man so important that his death is worth mine – and the
deaths of others? What, do you think, makes this man so important?’

‘He was an officer of the law,’ Baldwin said. Pons was silent, keeping in the shadows nearby, listening but making no contribution.

‘An officer?’ the King said with mild pain on his features. ‘What of it? Does it make him a better man? I think not!’

‘Perhaps not, but surely it made him more valuable?’ Baldwin said.

The King stretched back his head until all his tendons and muscles were taut, and suddenly gave a burst of laughter. ‘Valuable?
Yes. In God’s name,
yes
! I was paid a great deal to remove him.’

‘You were successful. Did you kill him yourself?’

‘I am “King”, Sieur Knight. Do I look as though I get my own hands bloody?’

‘So you told one of your men to do it for you?’

‘I was contracted to kill him, I took the money, and passed some on to the assassin. But he was greedy, and demanded more,
so I tried to have him punished for his presumption. He hurt several of my own guards, the son of a hog!’

‘There was a body in the Seine …?’ Pons murmured.

‘It was one of my men, whom the assassin killed.’

‘This assassin is no friend of yours,’ Baldwin said.

‘He is the cause of my suffering today.’

‘Will you tell us who he was?’

‘No. I want my own justice for him,’ the King spat. He stood, not quickly with his wounds, but with determination. ‘And it’s
not him you want, it’s the priest who paid for the Procureur to be killed, as well as the girl.’

‘What girl?’ Baldwin asked.

‘The one over at the Grand Châtelet two months ago.’

‘She was one of your victims, too?’

‘Yes. I was paid for her killing, and I always fulfil my contracts.’

‘You did it personally?’

‘No. As I said, my way is to always pay another.’

‘What,’ Baldwin asked tentatively, ‘about the man de Nogaret in the Louvre?’

‘That was nothing to do with me. I wouldn’t kill in the King’s own palace,’ the other King said. ‘What, do you think me a
fool? To antagonise King Charles can only lead to destruction. I wouldn’t risk that.’

‘So who did?’

‘If I knew that, I’d trade it for my release,’ the King of Thieves spat.

‘You see the problem with him?’ Pons grumbled when they were back in the open air once more. ‘He will wander in his mind,
and then dry up and refuse to speak any more, and it takes all the effort of more torture to make him get to the point again.’

‘And yet there were some useful pieces of information he gave us. He said that the same priest ordered the death of the girl
as well as that of Jean,’ Baldwin said. ‘And that means it could not be Bishop Walter. He was not in the country when Madame
de Nogaret was killed.’

‘Perhaps, but the word of a thief and murderer like that is hardly to be taken as entirely valid,’ Pons scoffed.

‘Not entirely, no. But why would he lie? He knows he’s going to die.’

‘So he finds he can distract us and make us look fools, too!’

Simon interrupted. ‘What of this man he mentioned – this assassin?’

‘One of his own men gone bad, I dare say,’ Pons said. He considered, and then shrugged. ‘If the King in there has
decided the man will end his days in the Seine, that’s what’ll likely happen to him.’

‘So he wasn’t responsible for the death of de Nogaret himself, but he did kill the wife,’ Baldwin noted. ‘Which is interesting,
eh, Pons?’

‘Why?’

‘Let us return to the Louvre. There is a man I wish to speak to – the messenger who brought news of the visitor to the Cardinal.’

Louvre

The Cardinal glared as Hugues slammed the door wide and burst into the room.

‘He’s gone!’

Cardinal Thomas motioned to the three clerks to close their work and leave him alone with the castellan. When they had gone,
he asked curtly, ‘What is the meaning of this?’

‘You wanted the Bishop dead so he couldn’t embarrass you. He’s gone. I have checked with his servants. All are agreed that
he and his clerks are nowhere to be seen, and the Bishop’s two most prized possessions are missing: his spectacles and a book
he always carried with him. He’s left! Fled the castle and the city.’

‘You must be mistaken,’ the Cardinal said automatically. Gone? The
crétin
could not have taken flight, surely. He had been alarmed last night after the meal, but that appeared only to make him more
determined not to leave without the Queen. To go back alone was tantamount to admitting failure, and there was the matter
of the Duke, too, the King’s son. King Edward would hardly be glad to see his son’s guardian turn up in England without his
charge. ‘No, you must be mistaken. He wouldn’t dare.’

‘You ask the servants, then. I hunted about the castle, and no one’s seen him.’

‘Go and ask Arnaud. If the Bishop has left, Arnaud’s men will have seen him.’

‘Very well. But if he’s escaped, you’d best start making plans for what you should do.’

The Cardinal stretched and smiled lazily. ‘Me? No. I will be perfectly safe. There is nothing the Bishop can tell the English
about me that matters even remotely.
I
am safe.’

Baldwin and Simon were the first to reach the gatehouse, and Baldwin immediately knocked on Arnaud’s door. ‘Porter? Ah, good.
I hope you can help me. I would like to speak with the messenger Raoulet.’

‘I’ll have him brought to you.’

When he arrived, Baldwin and Simon studied Raoulet with interest. Pons affected boredom, however, and Sir Richard found it
hard to keep his eyes on the lad.

Baldwin nodded towards some benches near the tavern, and Sir Richard’s spirits lifted. ‘You want a drink?’ he asked hopefully.

The others made no response, but the big Coroner had soon acquired a large pot of wine, which he slurped as the others spoke.

Raoulet was not an impressive witness, Baldwin reckoned. He was young, skinny and spotty, had the sort of baleful resentfulness
that could so easily flare into rage, as was common with many young men nowadays. He had little to add to what they knew.
Still, there was one aspect which intrigued Baldwin.

‘So you were at the gatehouse and received warning that a man called de Nogaret had come here to meet the Cardinal?’

‘Yes. I was told that by a kitchen knave. He said that he’d installed the man in a small chamber, the one where he was found
later.’

‘Do you know the kitchen knave’s name?’

‘Yes. He was young Jehanin. Why?’

‘He’s dead. You know that?’

‘Of course. Lots of us have been talking about it. Sad.’ His face tended to disagree with his words.

‘I am glad there is nothing else to tell us,’ Simon said.

‘So am I,’ Raoulet said. Then he hesitated, his natural inquisitiveness getting the better of him. ‘Why?’

‘No reason. Except all those who knew anything about this meeting between the Cardinal and the man de Nogaret appear to have
died. If you knew anything too, you might be next to die, mightn’t you?’

Then, seeing the young man’s expression, he added insincerely, ‘There is probably nothing to worry about. After all, you don’t
know anything about it – so there’s no need for you to ask us to protect you, is there?’

Raoulet was looking darkly anxious now. ‘No, I don’t know anything,’ he repeated nervously.

‘That’s good,’ Baldwin said. ‘Because if you did, and anyone saw you here with us, they might think you were telling us all
sorts of secrets.’

‘There was nothing! Honest! All I know, I’ve told you. The knave came to fetch me, and I went to get the Cardinal. And when
we got to the chamber, the man was dead.’

‘Was the Cardinal still in his chamber?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Yes. He was there.’

‘Good. Then you have no secret to worry about.’ But the lad appeared worried about something still. Something that niggled
at him. ‘Boy, what is it?’ Baldwin sighed.

Raoulet set his head to one side. ‘It was just a little thing, but I couldn’t help but think about it afterwards. You see,
when Jehanin came to get me, he didn’t come the normal way, the way I’d have expected. He actually seemed to come from the
Cardinal’s direction.’

Baldwin shot a look at Pons. The Frenchman was alert, staring fixedly at the messenger. ‘You sure of that?’ he asked gruffly.

Raoulet looked across at him, disdain returning to his features. ‘Look, the Cardinal’s chamber is there,’ he said, making
a scuffmark in the dust of the path. ‘The man was found dead
here
, and I was over here. Why did Jehanin come from the Cardinal’s rooms, then send me back the same way? At the time I thought
he was just being lazy – that he was passing, saw me and thought he might as well get
me
to take the message to the Cardinal instead of him. But now, well, I’m not so sure.’

‘All right, you can wait for us outside now, lad,’ said Pons. Once Raoulet had gone, Pons turned to the others. ‘We should
speak with the Cardinal,’ he said.

Baldwin was frowning. ‘Why would a Cardinal want to seek the death of a young man like de Nogaret? It makes no sense.’

Simon was eyeing him speculatively. ‘You told me that the older de Nogaret was involved in the destruction of the Templars
and the thefts from the Jews. Perhaps it was something to do with one of them. After all, do you remember Bishop Walter last
night saying that the Cardinal had said he was born to humble stock or something? How did he amass his wealth, if that’s true?’

Pons sniffed. ‘A man may amass a large treasure if he’s ruthless enough.’

‘The Bishop also said he had a cup, the brother to a set he had seen in the Pope’s palace,’ Baldwin remembered. ‘But that
was surely not a Templar artefact. Perhaps it was Jewish, and the Cardinal acquired it from the Jews?’

‘The Jews were expelled from France in the year before the Templars were arrested,’ Pons agreed. ‘It was a wonderful
time for the King. He took on all their loans and demanded immediate payment, confiscated their houses and assets, everything.
Just like the Templars.’

‘Let us go and see him, then,’ Baldwin said. He opened the door and motioned to Raoulet. ‘You know the way to the Cardinal’s
chamber. Why not lead us?’

Hugues saw them pass him, but he had more pressing matters to look into than where the English might be going. He continued
on his way to Arnaud. ‘Hoi, Porter! Have you seen the Bishop – the English ambassador, Stapledon? He looks to have disappeared
into thin air.’

‘Not here, no.’

‘He couldn’t have come past you in disguise?’

‘No. There’s been no one like him. Only the usual tranters and merchants coming in and a few pilgrims and travellers leaving.’

‘Travellers? What travellers?’

Cardinal’s Chamber

The Cardinal greeted them effusively as they entered, which in itself was enough to make Baldwin eye the man askance. His
manner grated on the knight’s nerves.

‘My Lords, it is most kind of you to come here and visit me. Please, allow me to offer you refreshment.’

‘We have not had to travel,’ Pons said. ‘We are here to ask you a little about the day on which you were called to the chamber
where you found the dead man de Nogaret.’

‘A terrible day, yes,’ the Cardinal said soberly. ‘I had known his father, but I never expected to know his son.’

‘You had not met before?’ Baldwin asked.

‘No. Never.’

‘Where did you meet his father, then?’

‘On diplomatic tasks. Here in court,’ the Cardinal said.

‘You had a humble upbringing, I understand?’ Baldwin continued.

The Cardinal beckoned a servant and soon had his favourite goblet in his hands. ‘Yes. I was not born to a family of wealth
and privilege.’

‘A lovely goblet,’ Baldwin said. ‘May I see it?’ He took the weighty cup and peered at it. ‘Wonderful workmanship. And Biblical
scenes, too. Is it true that the Pope has some similar to this?’

‘Yes. I made him a gift of them when he took the Papal throne. That was this Pope’s predecessor, of course.’

‘Pope Clement – the Pope who oversaw the destruction of the Templars?’

‘Yes.’

‘That would mean that you did not acquire this cup and the others from Jews, then. The scenes are entirely Christian, are
they not?’

The Cardinal was staring at him with some perplexity. ‘What of it?’

‘I merely wondered where a man with such a humble background could have found these cups.’

‘It was while I was at Anagni.’

‘You were there,’ Baldwin said, ‘when Pope Boniface was captured and his treasure taken? He died within the week, did he not?’

‘I believe so, yes. A pity, no doubt, but the man was seriously unbalanced. He tried to set himself up as a competitor to
the King of France. Clearly that would never be tolerated, and so he was chastised and removed.’

‘I suppose that by “chastised”, you mean he was beaten up, tortured, robbed and killed?’ Baldwin said tensely.

‘I suppose I do,’ the Cardinal said easily.

‘Did he deserve it?’ Pons asked.

‘Many thought so,’ Cardinal Thomas said. He picked up his goblet and glanced into it, motioning to a servant for more wine.

‘He probably did deserve punishment,’ Baldwin said with a firm restraint. ‘He deserved it as much as any who have stolen or
killed, Cardinal. But he
didn’t
deserve to be beaten and slaughtered without trial. His death was not a punishment – it was a waylaying just as an outlaw
might attempt.’

‘It seemed suitable at the time,’ the Cardinal said flatly, staring straight at Baldwin.

There was a sudden thunderous pounding on the door, and Hugues and Lord John Cromwell strode inside.

It was Lord John who barked, ‘Cardinal, the Bishop has fled the city!’

‘When did he go? Where?’

‘At first light – as soon as the gates were opened.’

‘Sweet Jesus!’ Hugues spat. ‘We must go and find him! If he gets back to the coast with news of …’ He suddenly noticed
the other men in the room and curled back his lips from his teeth in a snarl. ‘At least these will remain here to help “protect”
the English whelp, eh?’

Baldwin felt Simon stiffen at his side, but his concern was more for the apparently affable Sir Richard, who was already half
out of his seat, his hand moving dangerously close to his sword.

‘There is no reason to expect us to leave our charge,’ Baldwin said, stepping quickly before the other knight and blocking
his path. ‘We are men of honour.’

‘Oh, yes?’ the castellan said sarcastically.

It was enough to make even Lord John, who was no friend to Bishop Walter, scowl. ‘They are honourable men who are
respected by the Queen, man. You would do well to remember that.’

The Cardinal spoke in a mollifying tone. ‘Gentlemen, please. There is no need to argue and bicker, just as there was no need
for the good Bishop to fly from the city like a man in fear of his life. What is the reason for this? We must certainly send
men to protect him. If he wishes to continue to the coast and leave the Queen and her son here, it is not for us to criticise.
It is a matter for him and for the King who sent him. But he will need protection on his way, that is for certain. We must
gather men to follow after him.’

There was a suppressed urgency in Hugues as he nodded, turned and hurried off along the corridors. Lord John grunted and made
his way after him, and the Cardinal rose graciously, finishing his wine and motioning to the others to follow him.

‘You were telling us about Anagni?’ Baldwin said.

‘Yes. Well, I was there, and it made me my fortune. I was one of those under Guillaume de Nogaret in the French team. We joined
up with Giacomo Colonna, the man they called the “Quarreller”, or “Sciarra”, because he was so bellicose. He was keen to come
to blows with the Pope, because Pope Boniface was from the Gaetani family, and the Colonnas hated them with a ferocity that
must be seen to be believed.’

They descended a staircase, and then were out in the cool, autumnal sunshine. A number of horses were already gathered about,
and men were shouting commands, dogs barking or yelping, while from all parts of the castle other men stood gaping at the
excitement.

Baldwin continued, ‘So you were there with the French contingent, and you found a pot of money?’

‘We found some chests of cash. And that was enough for me to buy my Cardinal’s hat. Does that surprise you?’

‘There is nothing in the corruption of the Church in Rome which could shock me,’ Baldwin said icily.

The Cardinal recalled it so vividly. The chests opening – he and Hugues gaping in shock at the money inside, while Paolo held
Toscanello by the throat. For a moment all the sounds outside, all the noise inside, were dimmed. Time itself seemed to stand
still, and Thomas reached into the nearest chest and touched a goblet, the one he still had with him here. Later he gave the
matching goblets and plates to the Pope for his Cardinal’s hat. For that moment, though, there was no thought in his mind
of giving up any of this hoard.

‘Our leader was a man called Paolo. It was he who caused the treasure to come to me, really,’ he said. ‘Paolo had another
man with him, and he slashed the boy’s throat, purely because he didn’t want to share the loot. Well, there were two of us
there at the time, and we didn’t need to talk about it. It was plain as a knife in a hand that Paolo wouldn’t share with anyone.
So we two attacked him, and soon had him on the ground.’

‘And the treasure was split only two ways?’

‘That is right.’

‘And let me guess,’ Simon said. ‘You didn’t want to share it with another – say, Guillaume de Nogaret?’