Vincent himself was the picture of a successful merchant. His face was florid and jowly, his belly so expansive that he must lean back to balance his weight like a pregnant woman; it billowed out voluminously above his belt, dragging it down. His hair was grizzled like Baldwin’s, but his eyebrows were of a paler colour. From looking at his face Jeanne felt sure that Vincent was considerably younger than Baldwin, but worry had prematurely aged him.
Jeanne had to remind herself that her husband and she were here not for pleasure, but because Sir Baldwin was to be rewarded with gloves. Baldwin’s friend Walter Stapledon, the present Bishop, had insisted that Baldwin should be rewarded for his work earlier in the year when he had helped save Belstone’s convent from shame. The knight had protested against it long and hard, pointing out that his friend Simon Puttock, Bailiff of Lydford Castle, had in fact solved the mystery such as it was, but the Bishop had replied that someone who suffered while serving his See deserved a reward. Thus Sir Baldwin had been summoned to the city against his wishes, and Jeanne had refused to remain at home while her husband was being so signally honoured.
She was surprised by Vincent’s wife, Hawisia. Where she had expected a sharp, strong-willed woman with a solid grasp of politics, she found a rather vapid blonde with pale, chubby features, and a dumpy frame. In her company Jeanne felt a sense of smug superiority, a feeling she was at pains to conceal.
Hawisia motioned to the bottler to pass drinks and ensured that Baldwin and Jeanne were given pots of wine. Then she tried to engage Jeanne in conversation. It was hard going, for Jeanne did not know any of those about whom Hawisia spoke, nor did she have any interest in the doings of the various dignitaries of the city. Hawisia, Jeanne decided, was one of those women whose experience, life and interest revolved about her husband. There was no time left for her to have developed her own character.
Vincent de Berwe had been elected as one of the four stewards of the city last Michaelmas, and Hawisia apparently went in awe of him and the men with whom he had dealings. It was a natural reaction in one reasonably young, but Jeanne found it annoying in a woman of some twenty-four summers like Hawisia, just as she was irritated by Hawisia’s fawning attitude towards Jeanne herself. The other woman appeared painfully aware of her duties as the wife of an important man: she complimented Jeanne on her dress, politely enquired after the manor and expressed her joy on hearing that Jeanne was pregnant. Hawisia told her that she had borne a daughter herself two years before, but the girl had died in the summer when the people of the city were affected by a strange affliction. Jeanne felt a little unsettled to hear about the baby’s death. Such things happened, she knew, but there was no need for Hawisia to remind her that the city was unhealthy. Jeanne glanced down uncomfortably at her belly.
After that, Jeanne found conversation difficult. These days, she found herself suffering foolishness with less patience than before. She wanted to talk to someone with more fire to them. The only times Hawisia showed any vivacity was when she discussed her dead child or her successful husband. Her pride in his achievements was at least unfeigned.
Jeanne told herself that the young woman must be very deeply in love and tried to like her, but she found herself speaking snappishly, as if to a child who would not be silent but insisted upon interrupting. To her relief, the two men had a short break in their conversation and she took the opportunity to turn to Vincent and ask, ‘Tell me, we saw a hanged man in the roadway. Was he guilty of a very terrible crime?’
‘Hamond?’ Vincent chuckled genially. He was feeling affable now, after two large pots of wine. He belched surreptitiously and made a sweeping gesture with his mazer, a silver-chased bowl of maple that gleamed as it caught the light. ‘They strung him up yesterday. It’s good to see a felon swing, isn’t it? Yes, the murderous sodomite was one of a small band of outlaws who robbed a merchant only a short distance from the city walls on the feast of the Conception of the Virgin, eighth December. When the man escaped and fled back to the city to raise the Hue and Cry, whom should he see but that very fellow, young Hamond, sitting in a tavern and lifting his ale in salute. Poor Nicholas…’
‘Nicholas?’ Jeanne enquired.
‘Nicholas Karvinel, the merchant.’ Vincent gulped at his wine. He had spoken rather hastily… but there was no need for embarrassment. The Keeper of the King’s Peace was bright enough, but there was nothing to connect Vincent to Nicholas so far as he knew. Nothing except the fact that both were merchants and both had aspired to the same position in the City: Receiver. The thought made him smile still more broadly.
‘Well, Nick was angry to see the man flaunting himself like that, so he shouted out and raised the Hue and Cry, catching the fellow himself. It wasn’t only his money that was stolen, but a substantial sum from the Cathedral as well. In fact, that’s why Nick launched himself upon the felon, he told me. He was never the bravest man in the city, but seeing that scum sitting and drinking his own and the Cathedral’s money made him see red. The crook himself seemed so astonished to be caught that he didn’t even run. Brazen fool tried to convince everyone he hadn’t been near Nick all afternoon, not that it got him anywhere. All felons deny their crimes, of course, but he was persuasive. It wasn’t until Nick’s clerk Peter identified him that the jury was happy to indict him. He was hanged, although what happened to Nick’s money, God only knows. This Hamond only had a few coins on him. Probably it was left with the rest of his gang.’
‘Strange that he should have gone straight to the city after committing a robbery,’ Baldwin mused.
Vincent eyed him genially. Perhaps this Keeper wasn’t such a hot investigator after all. ‘In my experience, Sir Baldwin, it’s all too often the way such fools behave. They perform their evil acts, then think that they are immune to danger. If they can escape with their booty, they don’t consider the consequences, they simply head for the fleshpots.’
‘And the tavern in which he was discovered was such a place?’
‘Well, no, the Noble’s Inn is a pleasant tavern. I have used it myself,’ Vincent grudgingly agreed. ‘But that fellow probably didn’t realise.’
‘He was new to the area?’
‘No, his family are from around here,’ Vincent admitted.
‘Ah.’
A trace of asperity entered Vincent’s voice. The Keeper’s noncommittal grunt needled him. ‘So what? He went somewhere for ale, just as they all do; he had money in his pocket and bought a drink. Hereabouts he was quite well-known. His family has long had an ill reputation: it was this very soul who was found one night carrying weapons within the city walls after dark.’
‘So the jury would have known he was guilty,’ Baldwin said. ‘If a man commits one crime he is likely to commit another.’
‘Absolutely!’ Vincent agreed heartily, but as soon as he spoke he saw the knight’s expression. There was a cynical glint in Baldwin’s eye. Vincent chose to ignore his sarcasm and continued, ‘It’s not Nick’s only piece of bad luck this year.’
‘What else has happened to him?’ asked Jeanne.
‘What hasn’t happened to him?’ Vincent chuckled unkindly. ‘He’s an interest in several local and overseas trades but this year I doubt whether he’s made any profit at all. He had a share in a ship that was caught by French pirates five-odd years ago, then a man who owed him money died and his widow is refusing to pay back the debt, and in the summer his house was burgled and all his plate taken. Only a few weeks later someone else broke in and not only took all his new plate and spare money, but also set fire to the place. Luckily a neighbour saw the flames and called for help, but much of his hall was damaged and he can scarcely afford to have it repaired. And recently, to add to the injury, a glover to whom he’d loaned money was murdered and left nothing. His apprentice stabbed him to death, then took all his money, so Nicholas won’t see that sum returned either.’