‘Why did you kill Sir Jevan?’
‘You used him to assassinate me. He tried to kill me.’
‘No! Look, Matteo, that day in London there were rifflers all over the city. It was one of them who caught you and stabbed you.’
‘No, brother,’ Matteo said, and in his face there was a sad understanding.
For a split second Benedetto saw his childhood in that face — those happier times when they were all young — and he saw the tear that formed in Matteo’s eye as he held out a hand to him. Benedetto felt a surge of relief to see his brother returned to him. He moved forward, and too late saw the blade that flashed to his chest.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Berkeley Castle
Matteo was out at the bench by the buttery wall when Baldwin, Simon and Sir Richard left Alured’s chamber. His pale features were warmed a little by a flush when he saw the men cross the yard towards him. ‘Sir Baldwin, Sir Richard. Have you any news?’
‘We have news, aye,’ said Sir Richard heavily. ‘We have discovered how Sir Jevan was murdered.’
‘I am glad to hear it. Have you arrested him yet?’
‘We are about to,’ Baldwin said. ‘Matteo Bardi, I accuse you of murdering Sir Jevan. Do you have anything you wish to say?’
‘Me?’ Matteo’s colour drained from his face. ‘But you know I couldn’t have. Alured was outside my door all the while.’
‘He was, yes. But he thinks that you were in the doorway when he woke, and you opened the door to throw your cloak inside. I suppose it was besmottered with blood after you hacked at Sir Jevan.’
‘I didn’t. . No, it was Benedetto.’
‘Matteo, you killed him because you thought he had tried to kill you — and because you thought he had murdered Manuele, didn’t you?’ Baldwin challenged him.
‘No — it was Benedetto. It must have been him! He slipped out from his room and killed Sir Jevan. You should arrest him, have him put to the peine forte et dure and see how he squeals!’
‘You thought it was intolerable that Sir Jevan should live on after killing your brother and stabbing you.’
‘He didn’t kill Manuele!’
Baldwin leaned closer. ‘What was that?’
‘Nothing. No, it was the mob killed Manuele, I meant. Not Sir Jevan.’
‘What were you about to say about your brother’s death, Matteo?’ Baldwin demanded. ‘Did you kill him?’
‘I was nowhere near him,’ Matteo said with a sly look. ‘And then I was attacked. You cannot accuse me of any of those murders.’
‘I think you had him attacked too. In fact, I think you had your brother killed. . that was what you were about to say,’ Baldwin said. He was a good manager of the bank, wasn’t he? ‘Why kill him?’
His words stung Matteo to a response. ‘He was pathetic, that’s why! You didn’t know him. He was a fool, with the brain of a servant. He couldn’t see the truth when it was sat on his lap! He wanted to carry on funding that buffoon up there in the chamber,’ he said, throwing an arm extravagantly towards Sir Edward of Caernarfon’s room in the keep behind them. ‘It was obvious to all that the old King must fail, but no, Manuele wanted to keep on paying him more and more, bleeding us dry. He refused to let us support the Queen when she was in France, and when she invaded, he was still determined to back King Edward against her. Well, I couldn’t allow that. I could not let him ruin us all. I would have been far better as the controller of the bank. I know how it works, how people look on us. I have all the information at my fingertips! I will be a better master of the business than Manuele or Benedetto could ever be.’
‘You will manage nothing. As a murderer, you will be hanged,’ Sir Richard said.
‘You think so?’ Matteo gave a hoarse chuckle. ‘You will hold me, perhaps, until Lord Berkeley returns to his castle. Perhaps you will even hold me until the Queen demands to speak with me. And then I will buy a pardon. I can, because I have the intelligence and the money to do what I need to. There is nothing you can do to stop me.’
Baldwin glanced at Simon. ‘Master Matteo Bardi, you will-’
‘Hold him — he has killed me too!’
Baldwin turned to see Benedetto, pale and stumbling, a hand to his chest through which the blood seeped, standing at the top of the steps to the hall. ‘Hold him before he can kill another,’ Benedetto choked out, and sank to his knees.
Matteo had reached for his dagger as soon as Benedetto began to speak, but Sir Richard’s hand flashed out and caught his wrist. When Benedetto was finished, Sir Richard reached down and gently removed Matteo’s dagger.
‘You won’t be needing this for a while, Signor Bardi.’
Benedetto was utterly crushed by his brother’s crimes. Baldwin and Sir Richard went to visit him in his room when his wound had been tended by a physician, an old nervous fellow with cold, shaking hands.
‘He said he had Manuele killed? How?’ he asked now, taking a sip of spiced wine.
‘I think the important thing is, he was trying to have you hanged for Sir Jevan’s death,’ Baldwin said. ‘He wanted you suspected, and then he was going to take over the bank and become the head of the House of Bardi. It is clear that in his mind, he thought he could run it more effectively.’
‘I see.’
‘You do not seem surprised,’ Sir Richard remarked.
‘I am not. It seems obvious that Matteo must be responsible for Sir Jevan’s death, but to think that he could arrange the killing of Manuele. . Dear God, that is shocking.’
Baldwin said quietly, ‘I am sad to bring such news to you.’
‘What will you do?’
‘He will remain here as a prisoner until the Lord of the Manor returns and hears his case. And then, perhaps, a fine and a Royal Pardon may save him, if you deem it worthwhile. But if you do decide to have him released, bear in mind that your life will always be in danger. Matteo considers your job to be his by right.’
‘If I had guessed this, I would have given it to him and returned to Florence,’ Benedetto said. ‘I have no need of this job. There are many others things I can do. To think that he worked so unceasingly to destroy us all. His own blood. .’
They left him dozing in his bed, and made their way down to the buttery.
‘I wonder how Matteo thought he had arranged for Manuele’s death,’ Baldwin said.
‘He must have paid someone,’ Simon considered. ‘Oh well, he may be released when the Regent or Queen hear of his imprisonment, but for now he can remain locked. up. In the meantime, I need a drink.’
‘Excellent idea!’ Sir Richard agreed before bellowing for a servant to fetch wine.
Tuesday after Whit Sunday
Chester
The group rode into the city over the great bridge, the mass of the old castle rising up on their left as they passed under the sandstone gatehouse at the northern bank.
Stephen Dunheved whistled as he took in the city. ‘This is richer than London.’
‘Perhaps so,’ Thomas said. He was casting about him as he jogged along on his horse. ‘They say it’s the richest port in the west after Bristol. But their money comes from their access to Wales, I think.’
‘What of the castle?’
‘The main forces have already marched to York,’ the Dominican said smugly. ‘The few that are left won’t dare come to trade blows with us. They’ll stay put and hope we soon go away.’
‘And so we shall.’ Stephen grinned at his brother. ‘Are you ready?’
In answer Thomas glanced over his shoulder and waved to the men on the bridge and at the bridge gates, before laughing aloud for the joy of action, and clapping spurs to his horse.
They rode up the bridge street, all the way to St Olave’s, and then on, past St Bridget’s and St Michael’s, and up to the old market. There, by the pillories, Stephen stopped and gazed about him. ‘This will do,’ he said.