“Like hell he was!” William roared, banging his hand down on the table so hard that everything on it jumped and Magdalene just managed to catch the pitcher of wine before it tipped over. “Beaumeis is the man whose ordination was arranged so that Winchester would be away from the ecclesiastical conference when Theobald was elected archbishop.”
“Oh, dear heaven,” Magdalene gasped. “I knew what had happened, of course. You told me yourself. But if you gave Richard’s name, I did not remember it. But even so, William, I cannot see—”
“If Beaumeis was in the archbishop’s Household, Theobald must have been told how his ordination was interrupted. Perhaps Theobald was even told that Winchester believed Beaumeis knew why his ordination had been set for that day and refused to complete the ordination later. Likely as not, Theobald himself then completed the ordination. He must have felt some guilt over Beaumeis’s state, even if he was not party to the arrangement to gull Winchester.”
“We will never know the answer to what Theobald knew,” Magdalene said slowly, “but it should not be difficult to discover who completed Beaumeis’s ordination. I am sure someone at St. Paul’s will know that, and Sir Bellamy has the Bishop of Winchester’s authority to ask questions.”
William’s brows rose, marking his notice of Magdalene’s use of “Sir Bellamy” instead of “Bell,” but he did not allow himself to be distracted from the main point. He said only, “So Beaumeis would no doubt feel himself obliged to Theobald—and probably hate Winchester for his own reasons. Now, I do not know Theobald of Bec, but I doubt he is an idiot. He must have realized how he would be overshadowed if Winchester received legatine power before he could even return to England and show himself in the pallium bestowed by the pope.”
“Yes, Theobald was aware of that. I assume that was why he sent Beaumeis back to England with Baldassare. Beaumeis told Buchuinte that Theobald wanted news of his receipt of the pallium and the pope’s honorable reception of him to come to Canterbury before Winchester was announced as legate.”
“He could have asked Beaumeis to destroy the bull—or bewailed the pope’s making Winchester legate in such a way that Beaumeis was bound to understand his desire….”
“But would Beaumeis perform so dangerous an act? He is not very strong or brave, and he is very selfish.”
“And ambitious, too? Can you imagine what preferment he might be able to wring from Theobald if he threatened to spill the tale of the stolen bull?”
“And he probably hated Winchester.” Magdalene sighed and nodded. “Yes, to assuage his spite and gain a lifelong hold over the archbishop, he would have dared. And he could have estimated the time they were to arrive and told Baldassare he had been asked to arrange a meeting with the papal messenger.” As she said that, she frowned. “But is that not nonsense? He was in Baldassare’s company on the whole voyage from Italy. Could he not have stolen the bull then?”
“Not if he had a brain in his head. That would make him the only person for hundreds of miles who could want the bull. Here in England, there might be many who would wish to seize it, either to hold it for ransom from Winchester or to destroy it. Who in Italy or France could care about a legate in England?”
“But would not Baldassare know him?”
“Maybe that was why Baldassare died. Perhaps he was not supposed to recognize the man he met, but knew Beaumeis too well for a disguise to work.”
That was when Magdalene shuddered and rubbed her arms to warm them against an inner chill. She had not really believed Richard de Beaumeis could gather the will to murder in cold blood, but if Baldassare had recognized him, Beaumeis could have drawn his knife and struck once in an hysterical panic. They would have been standing close, talking—as Bell said.
“Horrible,” she whispered, and then, “No. Buchuinte says that Beaumeis left his house long before Baldassare did.”
William, who had been staring down into his wine cup, looked up. “Well, I can discover when he arrived in Canterbury, and I can have my men ask along the way about his passing. Now tell me the rest of the tale.”
So she did, from Baldassare’s decision to stay in the whorehouse once he heard there was a short way to the church, to Sabina’s finding his body on the north porch. Then she described Bell’s investigation and conclusions and was relieved when William only grinned at her. He stopped her a few times to ask questions, like why she and Sir Bellamy were so certain the killer had to be inside the walls, but in general, he just listened intently until she suggested that there might have been another piece of news that Baldassare was carrying that was important and asked whether the pope could not have included a letter to the king stating his decision about Stephen’s right to the throne.