“Mute? Blind? Idiot?” Winchester said, shaking his head doubtfully.
Bell laughed. “I had forgotten you have never been there and know none except Magdalene. She says she chose her women on the ‘hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil’ principle and that her wealthy and powerful clients are more comfortable with women they believe cannot identify them.”
“Very well. I never thought Magdalene or anyone she controlled guilty. She is too clever to get caught with a dead body so near her as the church porch or to permit so bloody a death. If she were guilty, her victim would be clean and neat and no one would ever know how, when, or where he had died. So, the monks and their guests?”
“I will have no trouble questioning the monks. I have already told Brother Godwine, the porter, that the way to escape the pope’s blame for allowing his messenger to be slaughtered on their doorstep is to find the killer and see that Baldassare is avenged.”
“Very good. Very good indeed.” Winchester hesitated, surprised by Bell’s expression, and then asked, “Why do you look so black?”
“Guests,” Bell snarled through set teeth. “Those women so befuddled me that I forgot to ask the names of the men who were with them the night Baldassare died.”
“Ah, well,” Winchester said indulgently, “that is not something that a few hours will change. Nor will the men disappear. Mostly the same men come there, and all her clients are recommended by others.”
“But she took Baldassare—”
“No, he had a recommendation of sorts,” Winchester said, his voice cold and his lips stiff. “Richard de Beaumeis told Baldassare to go to the Old Priory Guesthouse—only, he called it the Bishop of Winchester’s inn.”
Bell was surprised by the bishop’s controlled rage when he mentioned Beaumeis, for the name meant nothing to him, but the last phrase explained it. “I think that pup needs a lessoning,” he remarked, his hand dropping to his sword hilt.
“Not from you,” Winchester said quickly. “He knows you as my man. It will only give him another cause to complain of my persecution to his new master ” —the bishop’s mouth pursed and twisted as if he had swallowed a bitter draught— “the Archbishop of Canterbury.”
Chapter Eight
21 April 1139
St. Mary Overy Priory
Meal finished, Bell set off for the priory again. He had wanted to go directly to the Old Priory Guesthouse, but had curbed that impulse because he knew it was bred more of his desire to see Magdalene once more than of any immediate need to learn the names of her clients. Having suppressed personal desire, he considered those he needed to speak to in the priory. Of the two who had dealt with the body—the sacristan’s assistant, Knud, and the infirmarian—he decided to deal with Knud first so he could confirm the lay brother’s observations of the body with those made by the infirmarian.
That intention, he thought as he rang the bell at the priory gate, might be more readily sought than accomplished. He had had some experience with Brother Paulinus and suspected he would not be allowed to question any of the monks without the sacristan’s interference. Bell grimaced, then hurriedly straightened his face as he heard the bar of the gate lifted. Anyone questioned in Paulinus’s presence was unlikely to say more than “yes” or “no.” But how to rid himself…of course! So beatific a smile bloomed on Bell’s face that Brother Godwine, who had opened the gate, was startled.
“Yes?” he asked, stepping back.
Bell promptly walked in. Still smiling, he said, “I must speak to Brother Paulinus.”
The porter blinked; few smiled so happily at the prospect of speaking to Brother Paulinus. That tempted Bell to grin more broadly, but he controlled himself. He was not, after all, certain of the outcome, but the questions he had to ask Paulinus could be highly embarrassing, and he hoped that the sacristan would not be inclined for more of his company after answering them. Thus Bell might be able to speak to Knud and the infirmarian alone.