The vicar looked the sort of cheery man who would be keen to be first to tell a saucy story sitting about the winter fire in a tavern. He had a round face with rosy cheeks and a bright button of a nose. Blue eyes that crinkled with laughter at the edges made him look as though he was perpetually preparing to chuckle at the joke that was the world.
Paul was rather more serious-looking, with the thin frame and frowning gaze of a man who considered himself more important than others, or so Baldwin thought at first sight, but then he realized that the clerk’s stern exterior concealed a heart as merry in every respect as Thomas’s own.
‘I understand you wanted to speak to us about this foolish man Gervase,’ Paul said.
‘You saw him going to the stews?’ Simon asked.
‘Yes. He was there with a man I’ve known a while,’ Paul said. ‘A pander for some of the women down there.’ He suddenly caught sight of Baldwin’s expression. ‘Not for my own purposes, Sir Knight.’
‘This man, what was his name?’ Baldwin asked.
‘The pander? An ill-starred fellow called Mick. I’ve heard he’s been found dead.’
‘He has,’ Baldwin said. ‘I’ll tell you later, Simon,’ he added. ‘Where exactly did you see this Gervase?’
‘He was at the South Gate, and turned right towards the quay,’ Paul said. ‘I think he was going to the cock-fighting. That was two days before the theft.’
‘So his money was not stolen on his first night staying here at the chapter?’ Baldwin asked.
‘Oh, no, it was taken before he arrived here,’ Paul said.
Thomas sniffed. ‘But he came to us saying he had need of our hospitality. At first we thought it was the usual plea of the traveller who cannot find a place to rest his head.’
‘Not I, nor some few others. We thought he’d lost his money in a gaming hall or a tavern,’ Paul chuckled. ‘It’s not for nothing that he was named Gambling Gervase in the two days he stayed with us.’
‘When he reported losing money, did no one realize?’ Baldwin asked. ‘Surely any man would assume he had gamed it and lost, and that his story was a fabrication.’
Thomas explained, ‘The Dean kept news of the theft secret, so that there would be less embarrassment. And Paul saw no need to evict a man just because of his enjoyment of playing knuckles, so no one knew enough to put the two tales together, not until I learned from the Dean that he had accused us of stealing from him, and then, while seeking to find any news of the money, I told Paul, who himself told me about seeing the man down at the stews.’
‘He was very keen on gambling?’ Simon asked.
‘Oh, yes. And Mick was very good at it too,’ Paul said with a straight face. ‘He always managed to take guests to the right place to test their luck.’
Simon grinned. ‘Let me guess — this Mick never lost huge sums?’
‘Alas, you imply that he might have been dishonest. It would surely be wrong to speak ill of the poor man now he is waiting for the fossor to dig his pit.’
Thomas nodded solemnly. ‘Unless his gambling was no vice but a benefit to others?’
Paul’s lugubrious expression lightened. ‘It was a great benefit to some, I understand. And especially himself and his master. So perhaps it is no more than praising him to say how efficient he was at fleecing poor fellows like Gervase the Gambler?’
‘I think it is definitely setting praise where praise is due,’ Thomas agreed.
‘Vicar, you have put my mind at ease on this point,’ Paul nodded.
‘I am glad.’
‘You mentioned that this Mick had a master?’ Simon pressed him.
‘Ah, yes. A powerful man, a fellow called Jordan. Jordan le Bolle. He is responsible for many of the small ventures about this city which are intended to divert men’s money from their purses and into his own. A most imaginative businessman.’
‘You know so much of him? Surely he cannot be a very successful fellow, then?’ Baldwin asked.
‘There are some who are not so firmly rooted in the contemplative world as we.’ Thomas smiled. ‘We have been warned.’
‘What of?’ Simon said.
‘Well, if a load of lead arrives fresh from ship, occasionally it is as well to open the boxes and ensure that it is lead inside, and not a mess of rubble because one of Master Jordan’s men accidentally removed one and replaced it. And then arrived to sell the same lead to us at an inflated price.’
‘Or,’ Paul added, ‘perhaps a cart of iron fixings arrives, and when the top layer is removed, those beneath are found to be ancient, rusted, and useless without being reworked. It is the difficulty with works like this,’ he continued, waving a hand in the general direction of the rebuilding going on about the cathedral. ‘There are so many facets to this diamond that keeping your eye fixed to any one of them is liable to make you go cross-eyed in a short time. All we can do is hope to prevent the worst abuses. And that means stopping men like this Jordan le Bolle.’
‘We think, Paul; we should not give the impression that we have proof of any of this,’ Thomas said with a twinkle in his eye.
‘A disgraceful idea. No, gentles, please do not think that Jordan is in any way guilty. That would be a terrible slur on his character, I am sure … except …’
‘What?’ Baldwin asked.
‘I have listened to the confessions of many people,’ Thomas said lightly, but with reservation. It was clear that he would say no more, but it was enough.
Paul continued, ‘He would certainly prefer not to be rooted here in business at the cathedral, I’m sure. No, he has enough interests already with his women down at the stews.’
‘You have heard he is involved down there with the prostitutes?’ Baldwin asked.
‘There is a large brothel there which is said to be his own. And at least one other down at Topsham.’ Paul nodded.
‘How did you get to know so much about him?’ Baldwin asked.
‘All from Daniel. He saw it as his life’s work to remove Jordan from the city, I think,’ Paul said, and then his manner grew more genuinely morose. ‘But I fear that if anything, Jordan succeeded in removing Daniel instead.’
Gervase de Brent was proud of his name. In Brent he was thought of as a merry fellow, with the happy-go-lucky attitude that meant others would always enjoy his company in a tavern or alehouse. He was the sort of man who sought friendship, but had lost his ability to discern the difference between those who liked him for his nature and those who liked him for his money — although often, to be fair, they were the selfsame people.
Once Gervase had been moderately wealthy. He had owned two sheepfolds, a share in an inn, and several horses, but he had been unfortunate too often when playing at games of hazard. If he heard the rattle of knuckles, he was always too easily persuaded that a few pennies might be invested which could recoup the losses of the last few games.
What people like his wife didn’t realize was, there was always the chance of making good again. True, he’d had a bad run, but that just meant the good times must be closer. And as he told himself, there was always another game round the corner. As far as he was concerned, this run of bad luck had to stop soon. Things must improve, and then his wife would be happy again.
Actually, as soon as Mick came back they would probably get lucky again. Mick had said after that last evening that it was hard to imagine their fortunes going so badly for much longer. Of course, he laughed as he said it, because he was another like Gervase, a bold fellow with the temper of a knight. There was no loss that could possibly scare him; a man was never worried by details such as a little burst of misfortune. So Gervase had just bartered some plate and a ring or two, and waited until his run changed direction.
He was about to go and see if he could find a game when he heard two men asking about him. He didn’t recognize either of them, when he surreptitiously peered round a beam, but that didn’t matter. He hadn’t known Mick when he came here, and he didn’t know the other two when they offered to help him. These two didn’t look too dangerous. They weren’t employees of a pawnbroker or from a gambling den where he owed money, so far as he could tell.