A Conspiracy of Wolves

‘No, I am grateful, Eva. You have helped me see.’ Lucie might have gone on, but hearing once more the unfamiliar voice in the garden she remembered her mission. ‘The priest is here. Do you think Dame Euphemia would like him to bless her after he’s given the man the last rites?’

‘I meant to say – I have seen the dead man before, watching the house, sometimes from the back garden, at night, sometimes staying in the shadow of the church. I told the captain that. And I’ve seen his companion as well, the one who ran.’

‘Recently?’

‘This very day.’

Never underestimate the importance of household servants as witnesses. ‘How long has he watched?’

‘Since we moved here. More often of late. Both of them.’

‘You saw both men before you hid?’

An embarrassed nod and shrug. ‘And I believe I saw them talking to Wren, the Tirwhits’ maidservant, early this morning.’

‘Thank you. Again, you have been most helpful.’

‘I shamed myself, hiding from the wolf that attacked my mistress.’ Eva wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

‘The priest is here,’ Geoffrey announced from the doorway, startling them both.

‘You asked whether Dame Euphemia might wish the priest’s blessing, Mistress Wilton,’ said Eva. ‘I believe she would.’

‘I will tell him,’ said Lucie.

Just before he stepped out into the yard, Geoffrey turned to Lucie. ‘The Tirwhit maid, Wren. She has a great curiosity about what the Pooles are about when home. I notice her peering toward the house often. And I’ve just recalled seeing her earlier today with Alisoun near the chandler’s shop on Finkle Street. They were talking, but Alisoun was only half-listening, glancing about as if alert to danger. I cannot help but wonder whether something Wren said to Alisoun drew her here, ready for trouble.’

‘That would explain Alisoun’s presence.’ Lucie told Geoffrey what Eva had said about the two men watching the house, and speaking to Wren.

He looked chagrined. ‘I am a poor spy if I did not catch that. Both of them. So they chose a time when Crispin was called away. By the plotters?’

‘I wondered as well.’ Lucie had much to discuss with Owen. ‘I will talk to this Wren after we’ve spoken to the priest,’ she said.

‘If she returned to the Tirwhit home. Which, I am sure you’ve not forgotten, is Olyf Swann’s home.’ He raised a brow.

A complex web indeed. ‘I pray you, find Owen, tell him all this. And that Magda is here.’ She was quite certain he would wish to ask Magda what she had known, foreseen.

Geoffrey did not argue. ‘I will find him.’

A discreet brothel stood to one side of the alleyway to which the woman had pointed. Owen stepped inside, doffing his hat.

‘Now this is a day for celebration. Captain Archer himself gracing my house.’ The voice came from a settle piled high with bright cushions, but in the dim light Owen could not at once see the speaker. When she moved he found his bearings – the woman was stretched out on the settle, her gown the same fabric as the cushions.

‘My apologies for the intrusion,’ Owen said. ‘You are doubtless closed for business at this hour.’

‘There is no particular hour for pleasure, Captain. This is as good as any.’ Her voice was low, melodic, her tone teasing.

He counted on the women of this house being regular clients of Magda and Alisoun, and therefore motivated to assist him. ‘I am searching for a man and a dog who attacked the widow Poole at her home on Colliergate. The Riverwoman’s apprentice, Alisoun, was injured protecting the widow.’

‘Young Alisoun? How might I help?’

‘Word is the man fled into the Bedern. Have you seen him?’

As he spoke, the woman sat up, moving with a fluid, studied grace. She was not young, but no less beautiful for the years. Though no stranger to the delights of brothels, he’d never been one to patronize those in York, for he’d lost his heart to Lucie Wilton on his first day in the city. Yet something about the woman was familiar.

‘Alas, Captain, I cannot help you. But there were whispers about a wolf entering a house nearby a few nights past. A search the next morning came up with nothing. A man and his dog are nothing of note in ordinary times, but at present – no one is at ease with such apparitions since dear Bartolf was taken from us.’

The affection with which she spoke the coroner’s name interested Owen. ‘Was Bartolf a client?’

‘Oh, we all knew the dear old man and competed for his coin – he spent freely here. He’d quite an appetite for a man his age.’ A dimple appeared as the smile brightened her lovely face. ‘Now for you, Captain … I know several of my compeers would forgo payment to lie with you.’

He felt his face redden. Her sinuous movements, the scent, her voice …

‘I did not know that about Bartolf.’

A chuckle. ‘Then you did not know him well. I can see that your mind is on your work – but the offer stands, Captain. Here, let me point out the house to you.’ As she passed she caught his hand, drew him to the doorway, leaning her head against his shoulder as she pointed to a modest structure a few doors down and across the alleyway.