‘What do you want?’ he demanded. He had been badly shaken by the events of the morning, but was beginning to get back some of his natural aggression.
‘I was hoping you might let me ask you a question or two about Master Fairbrother’s death.’ I smiled winningly, but not winningly enough, it seemed.
‘I’ve said all I’m going to say to Sergeant Manifold. So you can sod off!’ He prepared to shut the door.
‘Who’s that, Walter?’ came a quavering voice from inside the cottage. ‘Is it neighbour Purnell? Because, if so, I want a word with him about those pigs of his. He ain’t supposed to keep swine within city limits, and well he knows it.’
Before Walter could reply, he was elbowed aside by a small, determined figure in a black homespun gown and a linen apron and cap. A little face, like a tightly furled bud that has turned brown and withered on the stalk, peered up at me.
‘And who may you be, young man?’ I was hesitating, wondering if I should claim to be a friend of her son, which he would, of course, instantly deny, when the dame caught sight of my pack and gave a squeal of delight. ‘Come inside, Chapman! I’m in urgent want of needles and thread, and it’ll save me a trip to the market, if you’re carrying some.’
Walter began to protest, but his mother waved him to silence.
‘Hold your noise, you danged great lummox. This is my house and I’ll say who comes in or stays out.’
She only reached halfway up his upper arm and was so thin that she looked as though a puff of wind might have blown her away. But Walter, who had intimidated some of the town’s biggest (in every sense of the word) men on Jasper’s behalf, was plainly terrified of her. He slunk back to his stool by the empty hearth, thrusting out his nether lip defiantly, but saying nothing.
Goody Godsmark shook my arm.
‘Let’s see what you’ve got there!’ she exclaimed. ‘You’re another great lummox, like that one over there, and you’re all as slow as snails.’ She looked me up and down. ‘I’ll wager you’re not slow between the sheets, though. I know your sort, with those sleepy eyes. Bedroom eyes, I call them. Married, are you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Pity, ’cause I’m a widow.’ She cackled with laughter, ignoring her son’s squirm of embarrassment.
I hurried to lay out the contents of my pack. As well as thread, I was able produce needles, not just stuck through a piece of old felt, but in a tiny, beautifully carved ivory holder. I saw the faded blue eyes light with desire.
She took the case from me and held it in the palm of one hand, rolling it to and fro with the tip of a finger.
‘Now, that’s what I call a pretty toy.’ She sucked her teeth. ‘How much, Chapman?’
Inspiration struck. ‘You can have it for nothing,’ I said, trying to pretend to myself that it was profit well lost in a good cause, ‘if your son will answer me some questions concerning Master Fairbrother’s death.’
‘I told you, I’m saying nothing more on that head,’ Walter grunted morosely. ‘I’ve done all my answering to Sergeant Manifold.’
Goody Godsmark seized a besom from the corner and, holding it upside down, beat him around the shoulders with the handle. I winced in sympathy as he let out a yell.
‘You’ll do as you’re asked,’ the old woman said menacingly. ‘Deny your mother a free gift, would you, you ungrateful boy? And why shouldn’t you tell the chapman what he wants to know? You’ll be opening your mouth wide enough in the alehouse tonight, I don’t doubt. Spends all his evenings in the Green Lattis,’ she grumbled to me. ‘I didn’t see him last night until well after curfew. Now, come over here to the table this instant, my son, and tell the chapman what he wants to know. Or it’ll be the worse for you.’
Walter got to his feet and slouched across with as much ill grace as he could muster. He pulled out another stool from beneath the trestle and sat down.
‘Well?’ he muttered.
‘The man who called on Jasper yesterday morning, had you ever seen him before?’
‘No.’
‘You’re certain?’
‘If you’re going to query everything I say, there’s no point in asking me anything,’ Walter sneered.
‘Fair enough,’ I agreed hastily. ‘Did you get a close look at this stranger?’
He shrugged. ‘Not really. Brown hair, stockily built. That’s all I can tell you.’
The description, such as it was, agreed with my own recollection of the man. Although, now I came to think of it, I thought I remembered a pair of hazel eyes returning my curious gaze.
‘Was he a foreigner?’
‘Reckon so. Spoke English, mind, but with an accent. Don’t know what sort. French, probably.’
Or Breton. But I let it go. ‘Did you hear what he and Master Fairbrother were talking about?’
‘No. I opened the door to him, but as soon as I fetched the master, he told me to wait outside until his visitor left.’
I nodded. ‘I saw you, propping up the wall, if you remember. And you saw me with my family, a fact you acknowledged with one of your friendly gestures.’
‘What?’ He gaped at me, nonplussed.
‘You made a rude sign,’ I translated with some asperity. ‘Not that I care for myself, but my wife’s a refined woman, and my children are too young to start learning lewd gestures yet awhile. They’ll pick them up fast enough without your help.’
Walter guffawed, only to receive another whack across the shoulders with the handle of the besom.
‘I’ve told you about your bad manners, my lad!’ Goody Godsmark berated him. ‘Try to remember your mother’s a fucking lady!’
‘But later,’ I pursued, ‘when Master Overbecks and I saw the stranger and Jasper arguing outside the bakery, you’d vanished.’
‘That’s right. Master had called me inside a minute or so earlier. Said the gentleman — well, that’s what he called him, although he didn’t look no gentleman to me — was leaving, and I could start opening up the shop.’
‘But they came back in again, didn’t they?’
Walter nodded.
‘They were arguing. Do you know what about?’
‘No.’
‘You might have heard something. A word or two. Try to think.’
My informant chewed his bottom lip while he engaged in this painful process.
‘It was before they went upstairs,’ he conceded at last. ‘The man — the stranger — he said something about money. That was it. “The cause needs money,” that was what he said. I remember now. And the master, he said something about being bled dry.’ Walter grinned triumphantly. ‘It’s coming back to me.’
I suppose, in general, he just let memories skull around in that big, empty head of his until they got waterlogged and sank without trace.
‘You should try thinking more often,’ I encouraged him. ‘It’s beneficial for the brain. Go on!’
He eyed me askance — he was suspicious of words he didn’t understand — but continued, ‘The stranger was turning a bit nasty by then. He said something about Master Fairbrother being too far in.’
‘Too far in what?’
‘He didn’t say. Then, at master’s suggestion, they went upstairs. Master told me to get on and open the shop. “Can’t let Overbecks filch all the trade,” he said. So I did. Open the shop, I mean. I didn’t see nor hear any more of the stranger after that.’
‘When did he leave?’
‘I dunno. Master must have let him out by the side door while I was busy serving.’
‘And you told Sergeant Manifold all that you’ve told me?’
He shifted uncomfortably on his stool.
‘Not all of it, no. I didn’t remember all of it. Not about what I’d overheard.’ A broad, slow grin spread across his vacuous face. ‘You’ve started me thinking now.’
Goody Godsmark rose from her stool, closing her hand tightly over the ivory needle case.
‘You’d better be off, Chapman,’ she said. ‘If you’ve started him thinking, I reckon you’ve done enough damage for one morning.’
I laughed, feeling slightly uneasy. I supposed that stirring up that underused organ, Walter’s brain, might have consequences I hadn’t foreseen, but then promptly forgot about it as I realized that I was in possession of information unknown to Richard Manifold. As I walked away from the Godsmarks’ cottage, I debated what to do next. I could either find Richard and tell him what I’d learned that he hadn’t, trying not to gloat over his discomfiture, or I could keep it to myself for the time being and trust that, in due course, Walter would inform the representatives of the law himself.