‘Apparently not.’ Timothy rose and began to prowl restlessly about the room. ‘They had been given one of the chambers opening off that corridor for changing into their costumes and were already masked by the time they were called upon to appear. One of them did recall that the lad playing the part of Chanticleer was tardy and had fallen behind. And he was late, it seems, joining the rest of them for their entrance into the great hall. When asked where he’d been his excuse was that he’d got lost in the maze of passageways, but being muffled by the headdress no one recognized that his voice was unfamiliar.’
‘So,’ I said, ‘someone lay in wait, hidden by the curtain of that embrasure, seized the latecomer as he hurried to catch up with his fellows, despatched him swiftly and cleanly with a knife through the heart, put on his costume and followed the rest of the troupe downstairs.’
Timothy grunted assent and ran a hand through his thinning hair before throwing himself down once more on the window seat. ‘Whoever it is is a ruthless man. He’s already murdered twice in the course of trying to carry out his mission. The mummer who was killed was a slender lad, but the mask and costume would easily disguise a person’s natural shape and make him appear taller than he actually is. Which means that we’ve very little to go on. Well,’ he sighed, ‘we know Geoffrey Whitelock to be innocent, but that is all.’
‘Not quite all,’ I said, and two heads turned swiftly towards me. ‘Don’t raise your hopes too high,’ I begged them. ‘What I am about to tell you may have no substance in it. Listen and make up your own minds.’
I proceeded to give an account of the whispered conversation I had overheard, of my struggle to identify some word or phrase which might have lodged in my mind and of my final realization that one of the words uttered had been ‘demain’.
‘My conclusion therefore is that the conspirators were speaking French, which is why most of their talk was beyond my comprehension.’
But neither Timothy nor Lionel shared my sense of the incident’s importance.
‘It seems to me that you are making altogether too much of it, chapman,’ Lionel said, and Timothy nodded in agreement.
‘Nevertheless,’ I insisted stubbornly, ‘it is worth remembering that the very next day an attempt was made to murder His Grace.’ I thought for a moment, then asked, ‘Does either of you know where Ralph Boyse was the evening Thaddeus Morgan was murdered?’
Lionel flushed painfully. ‘He was with Berys.’
I recollected the conversation between him and Matthew Wardroper, here in this very room, and swore in frustration. ‘You’re certain of that?’
Lionel shrugged. ‘Berys admitted it when I questioned her. Why,’ he added bitterly, ‘should she not? She was, after all, doing no wrong. She is betrothed to Ralph.’
‘But can you trust her word?’ I asked. ‘Would she lie for him if he needed her to do so?’
‘She might, I suppose, but it wasn’t necessary. Several people saw them together during the time we were all at the Three Tuns ale-house.’
Timothy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, one hand thoughtfully stroking his chin. ‘We should have considered this circumstance before. It means that Ralph could not have murdered Thaddeus Morgan. Therefore we can acquit him of being the man we want. And now I come to think more carefully on past events, there is no possibility that Ralph might even have got wind of Thaddeus’s visit to me at Northampton, for the Duke had granted him leave of absence the previous day to visit a sick uncle in Devon. He didn’t rejoin us until almost a month later and was waiting for us here in London when we arrived from Canterbury.’ Timothy, drumming with his fingers against one cheek, was silent for a moment before sitting upright again. ‘I think we must now all agree that, as well as Geoffrey Whitelock, we can exonerate Ralph of being in any way concerned in this fiendish plot.’
‘You’re right!’ Lionel spoke with an enthusiasm which seemed to me to betoken relief and I regarded him curiously, recalling other fleeting but unreadable expressions of his which I had noticed whenever Ralph’s name was mentioned.
Timothy continued with satisfaction, ‘I never thought the French likely to wish for Duke Richard’s death, nor indeed that of any member of the King’s family. Therefore we may now whittle our number down to three: Humphrey Nanfan, Stephen Hudelin and Jocelin d’Hiver. And of them, only the last speaks French.’
‘But that doesn’t make sense either,’ Lionel objected. ‘The Burgundians are our allies. They would have no reason that I can see to wish for His Grace’s murder. It’s far more likely to be brother Clarence or the Woodvilles.’
‘Or neither,’ I put in quietly. ‘We must not overlook the fact that maybe none of these three, or indeed any of the five we began with, is our assassin.’
Timothy shook his head. ‘Chapman, we are only human and cannot perform the impossible. There are limits to our powers. All we can do is try to discover the innocence or otherwise of those remaining whom we know to be spies within the household. We have between us proved that two of the five are not our assassin, so let us trust that with observation and patience we may do the same by the other three.’
‘And if none of them turns out to be the murderer?’
Timothy grimaced. ‘We must think again. But by that time the Eve of Saint Hyacinth may well have passed. And in any case,’ he continued, ‘I’m more sanguine than I was of being able to protect His Grace from harm. All his people are now alerted to the fact that he is in some kind of danger, however much he may attempt to throw dust in their eyes.’ Lionel and I agreed with this and we were about to disperse when the chamber door was thrown open noisily and Matthew Wardroper appeared, a little out of breath and full of righteous indignation.
‘I guessed I should find the three of you here,’ he said reproachfully, ‘when Mistress Hogan told me that Lal was meeting with Roger Chapman and Timothy Plummer.’ He turned on his cousin. ‘I do think you might have included me, for it’s been as much my adventure as yours. Anyone would think you didn’t trust me!’ And the youthful face flushed with anger.
Lionel hauled himself to his feet, impatiently fending off all offers of assistance, and with his free hand clapped Matthew on the shoulder. ‘Steady, lad, steady! I’ve told you, you’re too young for me to let you run your head into unnecessary danger. As I said before, how should I answer to my aunt and uncle if any harm befell you?’
Matthew’s soft lips pouted and the dark eyes, fringed by their even darker lashes, wore a sulky expression. ‘I’m not a child,’ he protested sullenly, his demeanour in many ways proving the opposite. He added defiantly, ‘You were quite willing to make use of me when you had need.’
‘That’s true enough.’ Lionel glanced at Timothy. ‘It would be only fair to tell the lad what conclusions we have reached.’
‘Oh, very well,’ came the grudging answer. ‘But be quick about it. It’s time we returned to our duties and used our eyes and ears.’
Matthew listened docilely while his cousin made him free of our deliberations and then eagerly offered to keep watch over his fellow Squire of the Household, Jocelin d’Hiver.
Timothy, after the briefest of reflections, once again gave his consent. ‘It will give Roger all the more freedom to study the movements of Stephen Hudelin and Humphrey Nanfan. Lionel, in case we don’t meet again before our departure at dawn tomorrow, get well soon and join us in France as quickly as you can. Meantime, both Roger and I will keep an eye on your young kinsman here. And to you, Master Wardroper, I say this. Be very careful in your dealings with Jocelin d’Hiver. Until there is proof to the contrary, think of him as an extremely dangerous man.’