Cruel As the Grave (6 page)

Nell had never doubted that she'd get her way. Any man who'd go to the trouble of rescuing a stray dog from an icy river was a man with a heart too soft for his own good. "Fair enough," she agreed, sure that Agnes's tears would do the rest.

"Now let me tell you something of the family ere she arrives. Agnes's younger sister, Beatrice, married above herself, snaring a husband who has become quite prosperous. Humphrey Aston is a member of the Mercer's Guild, and to judge by Beatrice's bragging, he has done right well for himself. I've met him only once, for he's not keen on breaking bread with the likes of Odo and Agnes. I thought he was full of himself, as prickly as a hedgehog, a man who'd bite off his own tongue ere he'd admit he was in the wrong. Beatrice may have more comfort in her life, but Agnes got the better husband in Odo, for he loves her wholeheartedly and I doubt that Humphrey loves anyone except himself... well, possibly Geoffrey. Agnes says he does dote on the lad."

"Geoffrey is the firstborn?"

"Yes. He is twenty, and by all accounts, a son any man would be proud of. The younger lad, Daniel, is the black sheep, the one who makes a botch of all that he does. But Agnes swears he is no killer" Nell paused, head cocked to the side. "Did you hear anything?" Shadow took his attention away from the sausages long enough to give a distracted bark, and Nell pushed back from the table, went to let Agnes in.

Agnes was a plump, maternal woman in her early fifties, as basic and comforting as freshly baked bread. Her gratitude was tearful and heartfelt and embarrassing to Justin. "They are good lads," she said, stifling a sob. "I never was able to bear children of my own; the Lord God willed otherwise. Geoffrey and Daniel were the sons I could not have, and I've loved them as if they were mine. Neither one would ever hurt that child. I know that, Master de Quincy. I know it in the very depths of my soul."

Justin did not doubt her sincerity. He was not so sure, though, of her judgment. "Can you tell me about their involvement with the dead girl?" he asked gently. "What was she to them?"

Agnes wiped her eyes with a napkin. "Geoffrey has had girlschasing after him since he was fourteen or thereabouts, and I'm sure he sometimes let them catch him. Melangell was a shameless flirt and very pretty in a foreign, Welsh sort of way. But Geoffrey would not have taken their dalliance seriously. His father was about to announce his plight troth to the niece of the master of the Mercer's Guild, a great match for Geoffrey. Melangell may have been a passing fancy, but no more than that."

"And what of the younger son?"

"I think it was different with Daniel," she said slowly. "I believe he was a little in love with her. Not that he'd admit it. He is not one for confiding in others. That has always been his curse, that stubborn silence of his. Take that woeful business about his apprenticeship ..."

"What about it?" Justin asked, not because he thought it was material to the girl's death, but because he could not be sure if it was not. His recent experience in tracking down Gilbert the Fleming had taught him that clues often seemed insignificant at first glance; it was only later that the threads came together in a woven, discernible pattern.

"Geoffrey completed his apprenticeship this past year, with Master Serlo. And now that he is to wed Adela, his future seems assured, for she'll bring a goodly marriage portion. But Daniel ... nothing ever comes easily to him. Humphrey apprenticed him to a mercer in Cheapside, a man utterly unlike Master Serlo, and it went wrong from the first."

"Why did Humphrey not apprentice his sons in his own shop?"

"That is only done when the boy cannot be placed elsewhere. Better that he learns trade secrets from another master. And an apprenticeship opens doors in the future, as it did for Geoffrey. Adela is Master Serlo's niece. But Daniel's apprenticeship ended in disgrace, when he ran off and refused to return. Humphrey was enraged, for he forfeited the bond of surety he'd put up for Daniel. They dissolved the contract and he took Daniel into his own shop, but he has not forgiven him. Daniel did not help matters by refusing to explain why he'd run away. Later, he told me. The man was brutal to his apprentices, beat them without reason or mercy. The other boys endured the abuse; Daniel would not. It took a long time ere I could get the truth out of him, and by then, it was too late. His father was not of a mind to listen..."

"How do the brothers get along?"

"Better than you'd expect. Daniel has never seemed to blame Geoffrey for being the chosen one." Her mild blue eyes filled with fresh tears. "I've always feared that Daniel believed himself to be undeserving of love. I did what I could, but it is hard to overcome a father's indifference, Master de Quincy."

That Justin well knew. He could not help sympathizing with this youth he'd not yet met, caught between a golden brother and an unforgiving father. But his sympathy did not blind him to the fact that Daniel seemed to have a motive for murder. If he was smitten with Melangell, he might well have rebelled when she became another one of his brother's conquests, may have tried to claim her for himself, with tragic consequences.

Almost as if she sensed his doubts, Agnes leaned across the table, timidly touching his hand with her own. "Daniel is no murderer, Master de Quincy. Neither he nor Geoffrey caused that girl's death. I beg you to do what I cannot - to prove that to the sheriff."

Justin did not see how he could prove it, either. Nell had a lot to answer for. "Agnes ... I can make no promises. But I will talk to the sheriff, see what I can find out about the crime."

Agnes smiled tremulously, with far greater confidence than his assurance warranted. "I knew you would help us, Master de Quincy, I knew it!" She departed soon thereafter, with a lighter step, eager to tell her husband that the queen's man would be making things right for her nephews.

Justin finished the rest of his ale, then got to his feet. "I'll see if I can find Jonas," he said tersely.

Nell was unfazed by his obvious anger; he'd get over it. When Luke did not rise, too, she frowned at the deputy. "Well? Are you not going with Justin?"

"Why should I? I do not owe Agnes anything."

"No ... but you do owe me. You know full well that you'd not have caught the Fleming without my help."

Luke scowled back at her, but her logic was unassailable. "I should have known this was not going to be a free breakfast," he said, reaching for one final mouthful of sausage. "Come on, de Quincy, let's go track Jonas down."

Justin snapped his fingers for his dog, but made no move to go. "Tell me this, Nell. Have you given any thought to how this could turn out? What happens if I discover that one of Agnes's nephews did indeed murder Melangell?"

Nell was silent for a moment. "Well," she said, "if that is true, at least the poor girl will have justice."

~~

It took several hours to run Jonas to earth. They finally found him in an Eastcheap tavern, having a belated dinner of baked lampreys, a pottage of cabbage and onions, and a loaf of hard rye bread. When he looked up and saw Justin and Luke coming toward him, he held up a hand to ward them off.

"Ere you say a word, I'd best warn you about the day I've had so far. I was rousted out of bed before dawn to chase some young fools who filled a wine cask with stones and then set it rolling down to the bridge, waking up scores of scared citizens, sure that the clamor meant the world was coming to an end. Then I had to race over to Southwark to help catch a 'demon from Hell,' which turned out to be a peddler's runaway monkey. I got back into London in time to fish a body from the river, so bloated only the Almighty will ever know who it was. This is the first chance I've had to eat a mouthful since last night, so unless you've come to tell me that Westminster Palace is afire or Lord John's army is laying siege to the Tower, I do not want to hear it. This is one meal I mean to savor in peace."

"Savor?" Luke picked up one of the chunks of rye. "By God's Bones, Jonas, you could use these torts for paving stones. And why ever are you eating lampreys when it is not a fish day?"

Justin pulled up a stool, signaling to the serving maid for wine. "Pay him no heed, Jonas. We are bringing you no new troubles, I swear it. No royal plots, no fresh murders, not even rumors of plots or murders. We have a few questions to ask, nothing more sinister in mind. So you eat and we'll talk ... fair enough? Luke might even be willing to pay for your dinner."

"Pace yourself with that wine, de Quincy; you're beginning to babble." Luke straddled a bench, decided the serving maid was not worth flirting with, and fed Shadow a piece of rye tort. "Is there nothing this beast will not eat? You have to hear us out, Jonas. The lad is on a mission of mercy."

Justin did not think that was funny. "What was I supposed to do?" he protested. "That woman would put any poacher to shame, so deftly does she set and spring her traps. I was caught ere I even realized my danger."

Jonas continued to dig into his lamprey pie. "Now that you're here," he said ungraciously, "you might as well unburden yourselves. Remember, though, that I'm in no mood for high treason or conspiracies involving the fate of all Christendom."

"How about a mundane murder in a churchyard? Go on, de Quincy, ask him about the peddler's daughter." Luke smiled, for that was the punch line to any number of jokes, most of them bawdy. Justin was younger and less inured to violent death. Giving the deputy a reproving glance, he said quickly: "What can you tell us, Jonas, about the young girl found slain in St Mary Magdalene' s churchyard?"

Jonas spooned the last morsel of lamprey pie into his mouth, used his sleeve for a napkin. "Why do you want to know?" he parried. "You're not likely to convince me that the peddler's lass was a spy in the pay of the queen's son."

"No ... this has naught to do with the Queen's Grace."

"He is acting on behalf of your chief suspects," Luke said with a grin. "Nell prodded him into it, for their aunt is her neighbor."

Jonas grinned, too. "I've rarely met a female with such a God-given talent for prodding," he conceded. "But I'm not the man you ought to be talking to. Tobias is the Serjeant who was called to the churchyard, not me."

That brought Justin up short. "Well, we'll certainly seek him out," he said, after a pause to consider this new development. "But we'd be grateful for anything you can tell us about the crime."

"What do you want to know?"

"How was the girl killed?"

"We think she died resisting a rape. Her body was found by a woman come to tend her husband's grave."

"How did she die ... a stabbing? Strangulation?"

"A head wound. She either fell or was pushed against the churchyard cross. Tobias said it was dripping blood."

"What makes you think she was raped?"

"Her bodice was ripped open and her skirts pulled up, her chemise torn. But I did not say she was raped."

Justin was puzzed. Luke, who'd investigated a number of sexual crimes, was not. "No bruises or scratches on her breasts or thighs, then?"

Jonas shook his head, explaining for Justin's benefit, "That would indicate the man broke off the attack. Most likely he panicked when he realized she was either dead or dying. Tobias said there were imprints in the ground, as if he knelt by the body, but there was no evidence of penetration. Nor were there any stains on her clothing to show he'd spilled his seed too soon. My best guess would be that he did not mean to kill her. When she balked, he sought to force himself upon her, and the next thing he knew, he had a dead woman on his hands."

"What of her nails?" Luke asked, his earlier irreverence forgotten, caught up now in professional curiosity.

"Not broken, and with no scrapings of skin under them. So the man will have no scratches to mark him out. She was a little bit of a lass, like Nell. It would have been all too easy to overpower her. And it does not seem that she had a chance to put up much of a fight."

Justin's wine suddenly tasted sour. As little as he knew about this peddler's daughter from the Welsh Marches, he was certain she had deserved better than she'd gotten. Jonas had made the pain and fear of her final moments much too real. Shoving the flagon away, he said tautly, "Can you tell me why Geoffrey and Daniel Aston are suspected in her death?"

Jonas considered and then nodded. "Why not? We know Geoffrey Aston was bedding her. Sometimes she'd sneak him into the room her family rented, sometimes he'd bring her to an inn on Wood Street. In fact, the churchyard where she died was a favorite meeting place for them. As for the younger son, he was always sniffing about her skirts. We have witnesses willing to testify that he and Melangell had a heated argument on the day she died. And then there was the piece of silk found under her body, much too costly for a peddler's daughter, but just the sort of gift she'd have gotten from a mercer's son. Not enough evidence to start building a gallows, I'll grant you. But enough to warrant further investigation."

Justin could not argue with that. What had Nell gotten him into? He felt another surge of pity for Melangell, who'd come to London to start a new life, only to find death in a twilit churchyard. He pitied Agnes, too, for it was beginning to seem all too likely that one of her nephews was guilty of murder.

~~

After their meeting with Jonas, Justin and Luke headed for the Tower. The queen was not in the great hall, and to Justin's relief, neither was Claudine. He did not need to seek Eleanor out, though, for Will Longsword was on hand, and he admitted glumly that their scouts had not reported back. John's whereabouts were still a mystery.