The Templar found the builder in the same room as on his previous visit, poring over a list of supplies. When Bascot asked him if he had a record of the jobs Cerlo had been allowed to do outside of the cathedral, Alexander looked surprised at the question but nodded in reply.
“He used materials from the cathedral store, as well as church transport to carry them, so I kept a record in order to dock his wages for the cost.” The builder went over to the shelves where he kept his records and extracted a small piece of parchment. “Cerlo’s eyes began to fail last summer, so it was only after that time I allowed him to accept commissions for outside work,” he said. “The first, I believe, was about the beginning of September and should be detailed on this list, which is a record of outside expenses for the last six months.”
Unrolling the parchment, he scanned the contents and then said, “I was right. Cerlo fixed a loose stone in the oven of a baker on the fifth day of September.” He paused and looked up at Bascot. “Do you wish the baker’s name?”
When Bascot told him he did not, Alexander went on. “Then, in October, he repaired some steps on the guild hall. He did not do any more work until November, when he did some renovation work on a wall at the rear of the mint. Shortly after that he did a job in a suburb just south of Lincoln…”
Bascot checked Alexander’s precise tones. “Did you say Cerlo repaired a wall in the mint?”
Alexander looked mildly affronted at being stopped in the midst of his recitation, but answered the question all the same. “Yes. It was the rear wall, the one that surrounds the moneyer’s forge. I do not know the precise nature of the repair, but I have a list of the materials Cerlo used, if you wish them…”
Bascot cut the builder short as he began to read out the amount of sand and lime the mason had used to make mortar and the length of time it had taken for the mule and cart to haul the supplies, gave Alexander his thanks and hurriedly took his leave. As the builder watched him go with a puzzled expression on his face, Bascot sent up a prayer of thanks to God for giving Alexander the gift of meticulous record keeping. Leaving the cathedral, he untied the grey from the hitching post and got into the saddle. He now had enough evidence for the sheriff to order Cerlo’s arrest. Once he had Camville’s warrant, he would bring the mason to the castle gaol for questioning.
The templar found Gerard Camville in the mews, a large building situated next to the castle herb garden. It was fitted with several shallow casements to give the birds a comfortable amount of light. Nicolaa de la Haye and Gilbert Bassett were with the sheriff, engaged in conversation with the head falconer about which birds to take on a large hawking party planned for the last day of the baron’s visit. The air in the chamber was redolent of droppings and the air slightly dusty with floating feathers. There were about twenty birds tethered to perches along a central aisle and, as the two barons and Nicolaa walked along the open space behind the falconer, the raptors stirred restlessly and swivelled their heads from side to side, regarding the humans curiously with their bright, aggressive eyes.
When Bascot entered the mews all the heads, both human and avian, turned in his direction. Gerard Camville noted the look of urgency on Bascot’s face and dismissed the falconer, telling him to take himself outside and wait there until he was recalled.
Once the falconer left, Bascot told the sheriff of the three men the young beggar child had seen, and their movements.
“I believe it was Cerlo that Peter Brand went to meet in the quarry that night and Fardein followed him there. The mason was delayed in keeping his appointment with the clerk and, while Brand was waiting, Fardein killed and robbed him. When Cerlo came, Fardein must still have been lurking behind the shed and the mason didn’t see him, or Brand’s body, which could have been on the quarry floor by that time. The beggar child said the man with the lantern just stood atop the cliff face-presumably waiting for Brand-and then left. Fardein must have seen, and recognised, the mason, from his hiding place.
“I think it more than likely that Brand’s purse contained money from King Stephen’s reign and when Fardein-knowledgeable about coins from his work in Tasser’s manufactory-later examined the contents of the purse he realised, just as you did, Sir Gerard, that they must have come from a treasure trove. This notion would have been reinforced by the age of the jewellery Brand took to Tasser to sell. Since Fardein had already killed for profit, it indicates he was a greedy and unscrupulous man. I think he surmised there might be more coins or valuables to be had and approached Cerlo and demanded a share, perhaps threatening to reveal what he knew if Cerlo refused to comply.
“That was a fatal mistake. The mason not only seems to have been truly outraged by Brand’s death, he also had to ensure his complicity in not reporting the trove was protected. After Fardein approached the mason, Cerlo killed him.”
“The mason was foolish to kill the apprentice in the same manner as the clerk,” Bassett said. “It made it obvious there was a link between the two crimes.”
“I think Cerlo saw it as fair reprisal for Brand’s death. The mason is not, I believe, dishonest by nature, nor the type that would willingly take another man’s life. I think it is his desperate circumstances-his failing eyesight and the imminent loss of his livelihood-that led him to conspire with Brand. He could not foresee their actions would lead to murder.”
“But all this is conjecture, de Marins,” Nicolaa said. “What makes you believe the mason and the clerk were even acquainted with each other, let alone had common knowledge of a treasure trove?”
“That puzzled me, too, lady,” Bascot replied, “until I remembered that de Stow told me he had arranged for remedial work to be done on the mint and that Alexander, the master builder at the cathedral, mentioned he had given Cerlo leave to do private work around the town. I have just spoken to Alexander. One of the jobs that Cerlo did was a repair on the wall surrounding the moneyer’s forge.”
“And the mint is the very place where Brand was employed,” Gerard growled. “It all fits, just as you say, de Marins. The mason discovers a cache of coin and jewellery, hidden there perhaps by a moneyer during the battle between King Stephen and Matilda’s forces here in Lincoln. Either the mason tells the clerk, or the clerk is present when the treasure is uncovered, and they decide to keep it for themselves. Brand would know it would not be an easy task to exchange such old coins for new, but the jewellery would not be so closely scrutinised, so he takes it to Tasser, spinning him some tale about it being part of an inheritance. Then he and the mason split the proceeds.”
Gerard began to pace up and down the aisle between the perches. His sudden movement disturbed the hawks and they grew restless, flapping their wings and bobbing up and down in agitation. “Because the coins could not be so easily disposed of, the pair must have decided to wait until they could find a way to do so safely. Peter Brand was going to Grantham, to visit his mother. It is possible he was taking the coins to Cerlo, so the mason could keep them safe while the clerk was away from his lodgings in de Stow’s house.” The sheriff’s brow furrowed in concentration as he thought the probable sequence of events through.
Finally, he came to a standstill, hands clenched together in a fist behind his back. “But where are the coins now? They were not among Fardein’s belongings; he must have hidden them elsewhere. May Christ’s angels weep,” Camville swore angrily, “they could be anywhere. This coil has more twists and turns than the course of a startled hare.”
“It could be that Cerlo retrieved the coins when he killed Fardein,” Bascot said. “If you will give me your warrant, I will arrest the mason and search his house. It is a small dwelling; there are not many places he could hide them.”