‘Swam to Magda’s from the King’s Staithe? Most men half his age couldn’t do that.’ Owen had never believed half of the old man’s stories. ‘I underestimated him.’
Alfred laughed. ‘I’m not saying he wasn’t half dead when he washed up on the rock, and shaking so hard I built up the fire, wrapped him in blankets, and prayed he did not go from freezing to burning with fever.’
But as far as the man whom Old Bede suspected had pursued him, Hempe, who’d just joined Owen, Lucie, and Alfred in the kitchen, remembered little. ‘If it is the same man.’ He shrugged. ‘His name was John, like half the shire. I don’t know where he was from. The trouble was his dog. Big. Nasty. Trained to attack anyone who challenged his master. Mauled more than one who came at John, and some who didn’t. That’s several years ago or more. Do you recall it, Owen?’
‘No, but I’ve had little to do with the staithes,’ said Owen. ‘Did he have any friends? Family in the city?’
It was Alfred who’d piped up. ‘Now I remember. John with the wolf dog.’
‘Wolf dog?’
‘He called it a mastiff, but it looked more wolf than dog to most of us.’ Alfred ran his hand over his bald head. ‘The man was a queer sort. Dead eyes. Quiet. Too quiet.’
‘Young? Old?’
‘Alfred’s age, more or less,’ said Hempe. ‘I’ll ask about him down at the staithe. Maybe someone knows where he’s been, and where he is now.’
‘And if anyone noticed a small boat on the staithe,’ said Owen, ‘something that could glide away in the night, no one the wiser.’
Hempe nodded.
‘What of Bartolf’s servants?’ Owen asked Alfred. ‘Did you or Stephen learn anything?’
‘Stephen came as we were leaving the rock,’ said Lucie. ‘No one has seen Cilla since Hoban’s death. But a neighbor says he heard a woman shriek not long before he heard Swann’s dogs barking the night Hoban was murdered.’
Hempe had risen from the table with a grunt, thanking Lucie for the bread and cheese. Owen stayed him a moment. ‘What of Bede’s daughter? Can we tell her he’s safe? Do you think Winifrith could behave as if she’s still desperately waiting for news of him? It would be cruel to draw out her worry, but far crueler to risk her father’s life.’
‘Tell her,’ said Hempe. ‘Winifrith’s strong. When she was widowed she told her children she would not bring in a man who would beget more children on her who he would love more than them. That their granddad would now be their father. You can trust her to do whatever she must to protect Old Bede.’ He bowed his head. ‘I’d offer to be the one to go to her, but I don’t want her to think … we once … and now I’m married …’
‘I’d not put either of you through such agony. I’ll speak with her before I attend Janet Braithwaite.’
‘You are a good friend,’ said Hempe. ‘I’ve arranged for Ned, one of my men – he’s not been with me long but he served you in the archbishop’s guard for a short time – to join the servants at the Swann home, listen, watch. Dame Janet approved the idea, and convinced Dame Muriel.’
‘Ned’s a good lad,’ said Owen. ‘I should inform Alisoun who he is.’
Lucie touched Owen’s arm. ‘I’d rather you see to Janet first. She is of course fiercely protective of her daughter at the moment, a difficult pregnancy and now such grief. Janet’s factor was short with Jasper in the shop, and if you don’t attend his mistress, he’ll be back. Ah. Here’s Ned now.’
The young man was bounding along the gravel walkway and came to a skittering halt outside the open garden door. He doffed the hat holding back his unruly hair, dark as Owen’s, to bow to Lucie, then nod toward Hempe and Alfred. ‘Is it true, Captain? You’ve need of me?’
Owen laughed. ‘Are you so eager to escape the bailiffs’ company?’
‘They seldom need me, so I’m stuck at my father’s cooperage. Back-breaking work, coopering. Is this about the murders?’
While Lucie wrapped up the medicine she’d prepared for Muriel, Owen explained why the household needed protection.
‘I’ll guard Mistress Alisoun and the household with my life, Captain. You may be sure of that.’
‘Mistress Alisoun is able to defend herself, Ned, have a care with her,’ said Owen. A kindness, as there was a gleam in the young man’s eyes. So Jasper had a rival. Owen recalled that the young man had wooed a serving maid when in service at Bishopthorpe Palace. Perhaps it meant little.
Ned put a finger to the side of his nose and winked. ‘I am aware of Mistress Alisoun’s courage, Captain. And her skill with a bow.’
Owen thought to say more, but Lucie gave him a look signaling it was best left as it was. The four of them departed the house, Owen and Alfred leaving Ned and Lucie at the gate of the Swann residence, then continuing on to the Braithwaite residence farther down Coney Street. They were announced by the barks of a mastiff pulling against his chain near the hall door, his claws rasping on the stones. Not lawed.
A man appeared in the doorway, followed by Dame Janet who called out a welcome as the man crouched to the dog, softly speaking to it while stroking it behind the left ear until it settled back down.
‘Forgive the noise, but he is an effective guard, isn’t he?’ said Dame Janet.
Perhaps. But it was one thing to bark, another to know how to attack. And how to control a dog so trained.
‘Do come in.’ The woman who had the previous night wept and wrung her hands now wore an air of calm authority as she led them into the hall. Olyf and Adam Tirwhit sat side by side on a cushioned bench lit by the afternoon sun pouring in through a high window. Her head rested on his shoulder and he held her close, his head bowed. Near them was another couple, plump with prosperity, he garbed in a dark jacket and leggings, she in a gown a subtle shade of blue adorned with seed pearls, her hair caught up in a silver-threaded crispinette. ‘I do not believe you know my son Paul and his wife Elaine,’ Janet said quietly.
Olyf straightened and moved away from her husband as Owen and Alfred took seats near them. Janet wasted no time. As soon as Owen introduced Alfred, their hostess went straight to the point. Owen would be generously compensated. He had only to tell them what he needed and he would have it at once. The city needed him. The mayor, council, and sheriff agreed that Owen should take charge.
Adam Tirwhit quickly added his plea that Owen do all that he could to bring the murderer of his wife’s father and brother to justice. Anger sharpened his words so that the plea came out sounding more like a command.
Olyf silently nodded in agreement, her face pale, her eyes such wells of suffering that Owen knew the image would haunt him until he had solved this.
‘They insisted on seeing the bodies of father and son,’ Dame Janet murmured, as if their emotion required explanation.
Owen expressed his sorrow for their loss, speaking of both men’s goodness, halting as Olyf’s tears overflowed. ‘I will do all in my power to find their murderers.’
A brisk nod from Janet. ‘May God guide you in your task. How might we assist you?’
‘I have questions. But if it is too soon–’
Adam was shaking his head. ‘Let us waste no time.’
‘Is there somewhere we might talk out of hearing of the servants?’
Janet glanced back at the two servants who stood out of the way but close enough to hear any command. ‘I had not thought – I trust them all or I would not–’ She stopped herself with a finger to her lips. ‘My husband’s parlor.’ Rising, she motioned for her guests to follow.