Magdalene had a little struggle with her mouth, too, but subdued the urge to grin, bowed, and turned away. Bell started to follow, but the bishop laid a hand on his arm. Magdalene, who had many causes to be grateful to Winchester, now had one more. She had been wondering how to conceal from Bell the fact that she was sending news of this second murder and the need to purify the church to William of Ypres. Fearing that Winchester would not keep Bell very long, Magdalene hurried down the path to the back gate.
Who had opened it, she wondered. Who had a duplicate set of keys to every lock in the priory? Brother Fareman had. No, ridiculous. The sacristan, of course, but…could it be that Brother Paulinus was mad and truly did not remember what he had done? At least this murder cleared Richard de Beaumeis…unless Brother Godwine had let him in and no one else knew. But he could not have escaped after the murder. The front gate was still locked. So who had opened the gate? And when had it been opened?
Magdalene lifted the latch of the back door and went in, only realizing after she entered that Bell had fortunately not relocked the door. She drew a sharp, anxious breath, then let it out when she saw the key to the front gate hanging on its usual hook; Ella had seen Buchuinte out and had locked the gate after him.
By then, the women had heard her. Dulcie rushed into the corridor, her pan at the ready. Letice was right behind her, carrying the longest and most vicious-looking knife Magdalene had ever seen. Sabina followed, clutching her staff, and Ella cowered last, peering nervously around the corner.
“What happened?” they all cried, almost with one voice.
Magdalene sighed. “Unfortunately, Brother Paulinus did not suffer a mad fit. Brother Godwine was murdered. It was dreadful, but the bishop came back with Bell. He listened and said we were innocent. He even gave permission for us to help clean the church, which was desecrated—”
There were various exclamations at this piece of news, but Magdalene gestured for silence and for a return to the common room. There she said, “I will tell you about it tomorrow morning. The cleansing is to begin at Prime, so we must all be up early. It will be best if you go to bed now and try not to think about this horror.”
“Are you going to bed, too?” Ella asked. “Should not someone watch for the murderer? He could get in if the gate and the house are open.”
“The murderer will not come here, love. He is not interested in us—you can go to sleep without worrying about it. I will douse the lights in here, but I will be awake in my own room awhile longer. I must write to William about the murder and hint to him that if Baldassare took the pouch with him and the murderer did not get it, then he must have hidden it in the church. And if the church is thoroughly cleaned, someone is going to find the pouch.”
“How will William get the message?” Sabina asked. “You cannot go out in the middle of the night.”
“Tom the Watchman will take it. He should be on his way home right now.” She caught Dulcie’s arm and said loudly, “You must catch Tom the Watchman before he gets to bed and bring him here—bring him to the stable. I will go there to give him a letter and explain what he must do.”
‘Tom the Watchman,” Dulcie repeated. ‘To the stable.”
“Take the key to the gate,” Magdalene reminded her. “Lock the front gate behind you when you go out.”
Dulcie nodded and left. Magdalene shooed the other women into their chambers, snuffed all the lights but the torchette over the front door, and hurried to her own room where she took a fair-sized piece of parchment from her drawer. At the top of the sheet she wrote.
“From Magdalene la Batarde of the Old Priory Guesthouse to Lord William of Ypres. It is after Matins on the tenth day following Easter Sunday. If you are well, I am well also, but all is not well in the priory of St. Mary Overy.” She followed the warning with as succinct a description of the murder as possible—William would not be much interested in that or in the theft of church plate—and then moved on to the need for a purification of the church before it could be reconsecrated.
“Because Baldassare had been found on the porch,” she wrote, “it has been assumed that he never entered the church, and I do not believe the monks ever searched there for the pouch. Also, they did not know until Sir Bellamy recognized the dead man that he was a papal messenger, and did not know they should look for a pouch. However, Baldassare did leave this house when the bells rang for the Compline service. If he entered the church quietly and slipped back into the darkness of the nave, he could have hidden the pouch during the service and no one the wiser.”