“Come with me,” the porter said, leading him along the west wall of the building and into the lay brothers’ hall.
He bade Bell wait near the entrance, looked around, nodded with satisfaction, and went toward a group of men who were working at some task Bell could not distinguish. One looked up when the porter spoke to him, seemed to make some protest, and then began to fold something into a cloth. The porter returned, told Bell his man was coming, and went out. Bell waited without impatience, well satisfied that Paulinus had no chance to talk to his servant.
Knud was a middle-aged man, thin and wiry, with sparse brown hair, who approached with his head down, his hands concealed inside his sleeves. Midway he stopped uncertainly, and Bell gestured for him to come nearer. He resumed his approach, but with apparent reluctance.
“Yes, my lord?” he whispered when he was near enough.
“I have been sent by the bishop to—” Bell stopped abruptly and reached out to steady the man, who had uttered a gasp and listed to the side. “What is wrong?” he asked, feeling Knud shudder. “We do not blame you for Messer Baldassare’s death. I only want to know what you saw when you found the body, and where you and others were on the night of the murder.”
Bright brown eyes flashed up at Bell and away, and Bell thought of a small trapped animal. Almost fearing Knud would bolt, he kept his grip on the man’s arm and drew him to a spot farther away from the group among whom he had been working.
“The crows were cawing,” he said to start Knud off, “and Brother Paulinus sent you to see why.”
“Brother Sacristan is responsible for the building and the grounds. He thought someone might have left offal on the porch. Sometimes sinners seek shelter there to make merry…or worse.”
“I know that. So you went to look, and you found?”
Knud shuddered and his eyes flickered up toward Bell again. “You know what I found. A dead man. I had nothing to do with that. I did not know him. I had never seen him before.”
Despite the defensive words, Bell had the feeling that the lay brother was now more at ease. “Never?” he asked, seeking for what could have frightened the man so much when he first mentioned the bishop. “Not in the church attending the Compline service?”
For a moment the man did not answer, frowning slightly and obviously thinking back. Then he shook his head slowly. “I do not think so,” he said, even more at ease and seemingly trying to answer truthfully. “But he might have been there. It was quite dark in the nave. There were some others besides the lay brothers there, visitors to the priory and a few folk from the neighborhood. He might have been among them, but I cannot remember seeing him.”
“Very well. It is true he might never have entered the church. Now, tell me what you saw when you opened the door to the porch, exactly what you saw.”
“Blood,” Knud said. “At first all I saw was blood—blood all over, all over the man, all over the porch. I cried out and jumped back. I do not remember what I said, but it must have been that someone was hurt, or dead, because the infirmarian came running.”
“Was the blood red?”
“No. It was black.” He glanced up again, not so fleetingly this time. “I suppose it could have been red, but it is the north porch. The sun does not touch there, and it was dark.”
“But you were sure it was blood?”
“The knife was there, in his neck.”
“Who took it out?”
“I do not know. The infirmarian, I suppose, or the lay brothers who are healers. I did not touch it. I did not even look at the body again.”
“Very well. Now, after the body was carried away by the infirmarian, Brother Paulinus told you to send a messenger to the abbot. After that what did you do?”
He expected the man to say he went back to his work or his prayers; instead, the quick glance flicked at him again before the eyes were humbly lowered.
“I…I did not know what to do, and in the end, I did nothing because I am bound to obey the sacristan.” Knud’s voice was scarcely above a whisper and he leaned a little closer to Bell, his body tense. ‘I thought the bishop should be told, but Brother Sacristan does not trust the bishop.”
Bound to obey the sacristan but eager to tell tales about him, Bell thought. Was that because Knud disliked his master, or because he feared the bishop and wished to curry favor by placing the blame on the sacristan—Bell had not forgotten Knud’s initial reaction when he said he was the bishop’s man—or simply because he was a sneaking little rat who liked to make trouble? However, Bell only asked mildly, “Why does Brother Paulinus not trust the bishop?”
“He says Lord Winchester is worldly and that he prefers the secular clergy.”