Bascot related the conversation Gianni had overheard about Legerton’s gambling debts and of the list of initials among Tasser’s records. “I have yet to ask the silversmith if the initials are his cryptic way of recording the names of those that borrow money from him, but I think it is likely, and if so, then it is also probable Legerton is one of them. The sum was quite substantial-almost one hundred pounds.”
Camville nodded. “Add that debt to the money he owes for his gambling losses and the amount is more than enough to tempt a man to betray his oath of office, and his king.”
“But how did he intend to realise any wealth from the cache?” Richard wondered. “Even though he was able-by sending Brand to Tasser-to gain a few pounds for the jewellery, the coins would be much harder to dispose of.”
“It is possible he intended to take the coins to London or some other large town outside of Lincoln and exchange or sell them to a man of Tasser’s ilk,” Bascot suggested. “If the horde is large enough, it might even be worthwhile to take them abroad-to Brittany or Ireland. Their provenance and age would be of no concern in a foreign country. If he did that, he would gain the full value of the silver.”
“If he was devious enough to hide the discovery of the trove, he is cunning enough to formulate a scheme to benefit from it,” Camville said. “I am convinced Legerton is the one we seek. It only remains to snare the bastard.”
The sheriff placed his wine cup on the table, his brow furrowed in concentration. “These coins and the jewellery constitute solid evidence that a trove had been found and not reported. The testimony of Alexander’s records and the mason’s wife point to it having been secreted on Legerton’s property. Whether or not the exchanger was actively involved in the trove’s discovery is immaterial. Legerton still bears responsibility for crimes that take place on his land.”
“Are you going to issue a warrant for his arrest, Father?” Richard asked.
“I am,” Camville said. “It is time this matter was brought out into the open. It is the only way I can ensure the taint of complicity does not sully my reputation.” He addressed the Templar. “Are you willing to serve the warrant, de Marins?”
“I am, lord,” Bascot replied.
“Then do so, and with all haste. It is likely the cache is still at Canwick; it would be difficult to transport it elsewhere in complete secrecy. Nevertheless, once news of Cerlo’s suicide spreads, Legerton may fear the mason named his accomplice before he died and try to move the rest of the trove to a more secure hiding place. His manor house must be searched before he has a chance to do that.”
“Unless Legerton is gaming, he will be at Canwick, since the exchange is not open today,” Nicolaa said.
“Are you sure, Wife?” Camville asked her.
Nicolaa nodded. “He is not due into his office until tomorrow,” she said. “And, unlike de Stow, Legerton is not an industrious man. Even when he is abroad in Lincoln, he never goes into the exchange unless it is one of the scheduled opening days, insisting any who wish to see him make an appointment.”
“Then go to Canwick now, de Marins, before he is forewarned by the mason’s suicide. Take de Laxton with you and an escort of men-at-arms from the barracks. Search Legerton’s manor house and, if he is there, arrest him. If fortune is with us, you will find the trove.”
Thirty
As Bascot and the men of the escort left the bail, Walter Legerton was sitting on the dais in the hall of his manor house. He was in a foul temper and roundly cursed a servant who brought him a cup of wine for spilling some as it was placed on the table.
Morosely the exchanger surveyed the trappings of his hall-the exquisitely stitched tapestries on the walls, the fine pewter candlestick holders and the expensive silver cup out of which he was drinking-and realised that none of these acquisitions had made him a happy man. The manor house had cost far more to renovate than he had calculated and the wealth he had acquired from the sale of his father’s silver manufactory had been gone almost before he had time to count it. He should have listened to his sister when she cautioned him against buying it; Silvana had inherited their father’s canniness with money and her advice had been sound. He prayed she would never discover how deeply in debt he truly was, nor the means by which he had tried to recoup his losses.
His gaze wandered over the people gathered in the hall. All the guests he had entertained at the season of Christ’s Mass had gone home, thank God, but there was still a sizeable number of servants in attendance, far more than necessary for a manor house the size of this one. He would be forced to dismiss many of them if his schemes came to naught.
He saw Simon Partager enter the hall, a sheaf of documents in his hand, and the sour bile of anger rose in his throat. Yesterday the assayer had come to him and given notice of his intent to leave Legerton’s employ, saying he had been offered a position as assayer in a silver mine in the far north of England and had accepted it. Since the salary for the new post would be far less than Simon earned at the exchange, Legerton supposed his affair with Iseult might have influenced the assayer’s decision to leave Lincoln. If so, the resentment was misplaced. If he had not bedded the beautiful, but empty-headed, wife of his assayer, she would not have been slow to find another paramour. She was as lascivious as she was greedy, and would bed any man who took her fancy, especially if a prospective lover promised to shower her with gifts. Partager would be hard pressed to keep Iseult satisfied on the pittance he would receive at the mine. Walter had no doubt she would soon find a new lover wherever her husband took her, even if it was to the desolation of the Northumbria moors.
His recollection of the incident prompted him to remember another event of the previous day, when Helias de Stow had come to his office to discuss the arrest of Tasser. De Stow was full of worry about the money he, at Legerton’s urging, had borrowed from the silversmith, fearing his indebtedness would be revealed during the course of the sheriff’s investigation into the recent murders. If it became known that he had dealings with such an unscrupulous man as Tasser, Helias said fearfully, he would be in jeopardy of losing his post, since it would not be considered appropriate for a man who had charge of money belonging to the king’s treasury to have traffic with a person of such ill repute. Legerton forced from his mind the guilty knowledge that de Stow would not have needed to borrow money if he had been given the funds the Exchange in London had sent to cover the cost of replacing equipment in the mint. He had not really meant to appropriate it, only borrow it for a few days, but he had lost it all in one night at the gaming tables and did not have the funds to replace it.
Legerton had tried to reassure de Stow, telling the moneyer it was unlikely his indebtedness to Tasser would be revealed, but he had done it halfheartedly. De Stow’s concerns seemed small in comparison with his own.
The exchanger banged his cup on the table as a signal for it to be refilled. As a manservant hurried forward with a jug of wine, Partager approached the dais, the parcel of papers still clutched in his hand and a look of self-righteous determination on his face. Legerton groaned. Was he about to be given more distressing news?
Iseult Partager also watched her husband advance up the hall with a flicker of unease. Simon had told her earlier that day to pack up her clothing and any other possessions she wished to take with her and be ready to leave for Northumbria in the morning. Iseult had made a determined protest, but it had fallen on deaf ears. Simon had been adamant they were leaving; she had even tried to detract him from his plan with a bold invitation to lovemaking, but he had roughly thrust her aside, saying he had no time for such games. Never before had she seen Simon in such an inflexible mood, and it frightened her.