His next duty was to search the house, which he did with painstaking thoroughness, examining every hidden corner in the cellar and loft, every shelf, and even the niches between the beams and supports, which made Magdalene catch her breath. Alert, his eyes flicked to her. There was nothing in her expression, but their glances locked and he was surer than ever that Baldassare had hidden the pouch in the house and that the women had found it and hidden it elsewhere.
Aside from that one flicker of unease, the women warmly encouraged the search, which left him torn between feeling that what he was doing was ridiculous and that they wanted him to think it was ridiculous so he would be careless in his examination. Nonetheless, careful as he was, he found nothing and finally returned to the common room.
“I have been thinking,” he said to Magdalene, seating himself on Ella’s stool, “that what you suggested on the way here is only sensible. We will do better in solving this mystery if we work together and exchange information.” He wondered if he was a fool to make such an offer to a whore but he thought, fool or not, he could not lose much; likely they knew more than he did. “You realize, do you not,” he added, now intending to frighten them a little, “that the person who killed Baldassare must have been here or in the priory?”
Bell heard the quick, indrawn breath of Letice and Sabina, but Magdalene’s expression did not change.
They had not thought it all out, but she had. A face like an angel’s, a mind like a trap. If he found any reason at all why she should want Baldassare dead…. He suppressed a shudder. And a gentlewoman, who could have learned to use a knife, too—a very dangerous lady indeed.
Magdalene nodded slowly. “Yes. I did realize that, which is one of the reasons I have been so frightened. I know none of us did this thing, but if our front gate was locked when the last client left, just before dark, and the priory gate was guarded—as it always is by Brother Godwine or his assistants—then the murderer must have been confined to my house and grounds or to the priory.”
“That puts more suspicion on you,” he said, “but it is not all bad. At least we do not need to suspect the whole city of Southwark and all of London, too. That gives us a better chance to find out who committed the crime.”
“Well, of course, someone might have climbed the wall,” Magdalene offered, then sighed. “But it is a high wall, and spiked, not easy to climb, and the Watch does keep an eye on this place. So, yes, it is among the people who were within these walls that we are likely to find the guilty one.” She sighed again. “I did not mention it before because I hoped you would see some other possibility, but yes, I saw it, too.”
You would, Bell thought, but he did not respond to her directly. “Sabina,” he said, “would you have been able to tell if someone was hiding in your grounds while you sat in the garden waiting for Baldassare to return?”
The blind girl sat silent, head bowed, hands clasped lightly. Then, slowly, she shook her head. “I am sorry, no. First, if the person was still, I would have felt no movement of air nor heard any crunch of leaves. And even if the person did move about…I was listening to the service. I would have heard a loud sound—a sharp crack of a stick or a kicked stone rattling, and I did not hear those. But a soft footfall…I fear not.”
Bell was more pleased than disappointed by her answer. She knew now that it would be strongly to the advantage of the women of the Old Priory Guesthouse that someone be hiding in the garden, and she still did not pretend to have heard any sign of an intruder.
“That does not mean much,” he said, wishing to cheer her up as a reward for her truthfulness. “A person knowing the time of appointment could have slipped in at any time in the afternoon, especially if he knew the gate would be locked at night. He could then have gone into the priory grounds, or even into the church at any time before you came out.”
Letice reached out to touch Bell’s arm and shook her head vigorously, pointing to the priory and church.
“He did not go to the church or priory,” Magdalene interpreted, then asked, “Why?”
Fingers mimed searching, throwing things about.
“The saddlebags and feed!” Magdalene exclaimed. “Of course, he must have been in our grounds—perhaps even hiding in the stable—after Messer Baldassare arrived. How unfortunate that no one needed to look into the stable until after Messer Baldassare was dead!”
“I do not see any connection—” Bell began.
“Yes, yes,” Magdalene interrupted impatiently. “If the saddlebags were searched for the pouch—I am assuming it was the pouch the killer was looking for—before Messer Baldassare’s death, then the killer had no personal animosity toward Messer Baldassare. Had he found what he wanted, doubtless he would have taken it and disappeared. If he did not look until after he had killed, we know two things. First, that Messer Baldassare did not have the pouch with him when he met the killer, which likely means he was at least a bit suspicious about the meeting, and second, that he had therefore hidden his most precious possession…perhaps near where he waited in the church so he could get it quickly if all went well.”