‘Gideon was not a native of this city,’ he said. ‘He had lived, until such time as he came to work for me, in Southampton. But the unexpected death of his young wife, some months earlier, had given him a distaste for the place. So he left, and set out for London, in an effort, I imagine, to put the tragedy behind him.’
I stared in surprise at my informant. ‘Master Bonifant had been married before? Neither Mistress Shore nor Master Babcary told me that he was a widower.’
The apothecary looked somewhat nonplussed by this remark, then shrugged.
‘Perhaps,’ he suggested, ‘they saw no need to mention it. After all, it’s hardly relevant to his death. Nevertheless, I feel sure they must have known. I can’t believe that Gideon would have kept the fact a secret.’
‘No, indeed,’ I answered thoughtfully.
Adela glanced up from her plate and laughed. ‘My husband likes to know every little detail, Master Ford, whether it has any bearing on his enquiries or no.’
‘He’s just plain nosy,’ Philip said, ‘and it can land him in a lot of trouble.’ He added feelingly, ‘It can land other people in a lot of trouble, as well.’
‘Each fact, however irrelevant it appears, may be of importance,’ I retorted sententiously. ‘But pray continue, Master Ford. How did Master Bonifant come to be in your employ? Had he been an apothecary’s assistant in Southampton?’
‘So he told me, and I saw no need to doubt his word. He seemed to know the business, and quickly proved to my satisfaction that he could mix lotions and make up unguents as well as I could myself. He knew the properties of all the different herbs, and was good at discussing the ailments, as well as the necessary remedies, with my customers, particularly the older ones. He had, in fact, become invaluable to me during that short twelvemonth, and I was extremely sorry to part with him when the time came for him to marry.’
‘How did you meet him, and what happened to your previous assistant?’ I asked.
Master Ford managed a thin-lipped smile. ‘I see what your friend means about your nosiness. Are such facts really important in attempting to solve the mystery — if indeed there is a mystery — of Gideon’s murder?’
‘Probably not,’ I admitted. ‘But as I have already pointed out, I cannot tell what might be of value and what might not. And it’s true, I’m curious by nature.’
‘“Nosy” was what we said,’ Philip grinned.
With an effort of will, I ignored him, but I was beginning to tire of his pleasantries. Leaving my curd tart untouched on my plate, I twisted my head even further in Master Ford’s direction, in spite of the fact that such a posture was giving me a severe pain in my neck. ‘I’d be grateful for an answer to my question.’
The apothecary sampled the sweet cheese tart and it seemed to have a mellowing effect upon him.
‘My previous assistant was my wife,’ he explained. ‘She had inherited her considerable knowledge of ailments and their treatments from her father, who was also an apothecary, and so I had never had need of any other help in the shop. She had been dead only three or four months when Gideon came asking me if I was in want of an assistant.’ Master Ford heaved a sigh. ‘The similarity of our situations, both of us so recently bereaved, may, originally, have inclined me to employ him, but I never had any cause to regret my decision.’
‘Of all the apothecaries in London,’ I asked, ‘how did he come to pick on you? There must be a dozen in Bucklersbury alone.’
Master Ford shook his head sadly, as though he were dealing with an idiot child. ‘I was not the first shop at which he had offered his services. Gideon told me later that he had, in fact, been trudging around the city for several days. It was, oddly enough, the apothecary in West Cheap, in Gudrun Lane, who advised him that I might be glad of his assistance.’
‘Why do you say “oddly enough”? What was strange about the apothecary in Gudrun Lane?’
‘Jeremiah Page was summoned to the goldsmith’s house the night that Gideon died.’
‘Ah, yes!’ I refilled my beaker with ale and finally managed to consume a mouthful or two of curd tart. ‘I remember Master Babcary mentioning that fact.’ I frowned. ‘Why was an apothecary sent for and not a physician?’
Master Ford shrugged. ‘That I cannot tell you. I wasn’t there. You must ask members of the household for an answer. Maybe there’s no physician who lives close enough at hand. Maybe those present weren’t sure that Gideon was really dead, and hoped that an apothecary might have an antidote to revive him. Maybe. . But I repeat, I wasn’t there. I don’t know what anybody said or thought. I only heard the rumours and the stories that circulated afterwards.’
‘You were shocked by the news of Gideon Bonifant’s murder?’
‘Of course I was shocked.’ Master Ford hesitated a moment or two before continuing, ‘Shocked, but not altogether surprised.’
‘And why was that?’ I queried, although I could guess the answer.
The other three had by now finished their meal and, with nothing else to distract them, were listening intently to the conversation.
Master Ford, who had also eaten his fill, eased his thin buttocks into a more comfortable position on the bench and pressed a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose as though considering his reply. At last he said, ‘A few weeks before his death, Gideon confided in me his suspicion that his wife was being unfaithful to him with her cousin, Christopher Babcary.’
‘And you believed him?’
Once again, the apothecary hesitated over his answer. ‘At the time, I thought him completely sincere in his belief, but mistaken.’
‘Why did you think him mistaken?’ Jeanne Lamprey wanted to know.
Master Ford spread his long, thin hands, with their elegant, tapering fingers.
‘I don’t know Christopher Babcary all that well, you understand. I’ve only spoken once to him at any length, and that was at Gideon’s wedding to Isolda. He was some fourteen years of age then, all spots and pimples as such callow youths generally are. But I’ve caught sight of him many times since, when I’ve been in West Cheap, and over the past five and a half years, he’s grown into a good-looking young fellow.
‘Now, it seemed to me, when Gideon first told me of his suspicions concerning him and Isolda, highly improbable that such a man, who cannot lack for female companionship, would fall in love with a woman older than himself by some ten years, and one, moreover, who is so plain that she found it difficult to get herself a husband in the first place.’ Master Ford bit his lip. ‘But I should have had more faith in Gideon’s knowledge of the pair. I repeat, he was a God-fearing man and would never have made such an accusation lightly.’
‘You think then that Mistress Bonifant is guilty of her husband’s death?’
‘Either she alone or she and her cousin together.’ Master Ford turned to stare defiantly at me. ‘Don’t think me ignorant of the details of the murder. I made it my business to find them out. I was fond of Gideon — or as fond as I could be after only a year’s close acquaintance. He was not a man anyone could get to know easily, for he was reluctant to talk freely about himself. His grief at the death of his first wife went too deep for idle prattle, and I honoured him for that. I understood his reticence. I’m just sorry that chance put Isolda Babcary in his way.’
‘How did that happen?’ I asked.
The apothecary shook his head. ‘I don’t know. All I do know is that one day she came into the shop asking for Gideon. I called him from the back room where he was mixing up some lotions for me, and I could see at once that they were no strangers to one another. The only thing that surprised me, as it appeared to surprise Gideon, was that she had come seeking him out. I thought it unmaidenly and forward.’