For the Love of Old Bones - and other stories (Templar Series) Read Free Page B

food, but he shrugged, merely asking for a quart of weak ale. The innkeeper scuttled away happily. It was so like a man of his class to hurry off when given an order by men of a higher standing. They need instruction, folk of his type, or they feel at a loss.
    When he was back, and had hesitantly obeyed Sir Baldwin’s next command and seated himself, the knight began his interrogation.
    ‘The girl in the alley. I understand she was here yesterday afternoon?’
    Paul licked his lips and glanced at both of us before studying his hands, clasped in his lap. ‘Yes, sir, but only for a short time.’
    ‘What did she do?’
    ‘She came in late in the afternoon and asked for a room, Sir Baldwin. I saw her myself, and I was sure that she was a real gentlewoman.’
    ‘You were? Yet she came here alone, without a horse or companion. What made you think she was aught but a common vagrant?’
    ‘Oh, she had a real presence about her, Sir Baldwin,’ he said, looking up at last. ‘And her purse was filled with good money. I asked her whether she had coin on her, and she showed me – it was full.’
    ‘When we found her body, there was no purse,’ Baldwin commented.
    The publican glanced at me and nodded. ‘It must have been stolen,’ he said miserably.
    I stirred. ‘All too often these people will steal after they have killed, you know, Sir Baldwin. You and I don’t suffer from want, but common villeins in a neighbourhood like this would slit the throats of their own mothers to win an extra penny.’
    He ignored me, which I have to say was damned insulting. His attention was fixed on the man before him. ‘She showed you her purse; then what?’
    Paul’s gaze returned to his hands. ‘Sirs, she came in exhausted, demanding a pint of watered wine, pleading a parched throat. I wanted to see her money before I went to fetch it, but when I saw how much she had, I brought her a jug . . .’
    ‘And how did she appear? Happy, sad, anxious . . . ?’
    ‘Oh, tired from her journey, but happy enough, I think. Later she got a bit nervy-looking. It was when Edward the Tranter came over and spoke to her. She got all flushed, like she was worried about something.’
    ‘When was this?’
    ‘Late afternoon, I suppose.’
    ‘Did you overhear what Edward said to her?’
    ‘No, sir. He spoke too quietly, and just after that she dropped some coin on the table and left with him, leaving her small pack on her stool. Later she came back for it, but by then she had this sort of lost look to her. I felt so sorry for her, I offered her a bed over the stables, but she just shook her head – didn’t say a word, just shook her head, staring at me with her eyes all scared and sad, and her mouth a-quiver, like she was going to burst out in tears.’ The innkeeper shook his own head as if in sympathy, studying the rushes at his feet, then looked up at Sir Baldwin. ‘She saw or heard something that devastated her, sir. She thought her life was ended.’
    His story struck a cold chill in my bowels and I felt the anger colouring my face. ‘Do you think this Edward tried to force himself on her?’ I demanded. ‘If he did, by Christ’s blood, he’ll answer to me!’
    ‘Oh, no, sir. I’m sure he’d not have done that. Edward’s been coming here for donkey’s years.’
    ‘Was he drunk?’ Baldwin asked quietly. I couldn’t help but feel he thought my outburst was excessive, but then I must admit I was finding his coolness annoying.
    The innkeeper gave a faint grin. ‘You know Ed, Sir Baldwin! It’d be a rare day he wasn’t a bit drunk. Still, he wasn’t bitter or angry, just a little, well, thoughtful, I suppose.’
    ‘Did you see where they went?’
    ‘Yes, sir. I thought . . . Well, she was an attractive girl, and I couldn’t help watching her. They went down the street a short way and into the alley near Ralph’s place. The one where she was found last night. They went inside, but then I had to go to serve a customer. A while later