The Alehouse Murders by Maureen Ash

the sister if he could see the girl’s clothing and she brought it. Like the garments that he had examined in the priory, these also stank of ale.
    Sister Bridget promised, after cleansing, to despatch the clothing to the castle, along with that of the young man. Bascot gave her his thanks and half of a silver penny for the poor box, then left the way he had come, going through a door in the wall to find himself back in the yard where Gianni was waiting. When both were once more mounted, Bascot left the priory and turned his horse in the direction of the alehouse. If his suspicions were correct, he now knew where the bodies had been before they had been found on the taproom floor—in empty ale casks, pushed in so that the staves of the barrels had carved welts on the flesh of their backs and knees and their clothing had become contaminated by the ale-soaked wood.

Five
    I N A FINE STONE HOUSE FRONTING THE MAIN THOROUGHFARE of Mikelgate two men sat in a small private room. One of them was Isaac, dead Samuel’s cousin, and the other, also a cousin, was Isaac’s younger brother, Nathan. The chamber in which the two men were ensconced was richly furnished with tables and chairs of oak. On the walls hung brightly coloured tapestries and the gleam of gold could be seen in the cups from which they were drinking and in the seven-branched candlestick that stood on a chest at the far side of the room. Both men were seated, their faces drawn in concern as they listened to the voices of women from a nearby chamber raised in soft tones of lament. Their clothes were of fine wool, worked at hem and cuff with strands of silk. Isaac was some years older than his brother, his long dark hair sprinkled with grey amongst the curls that hung down from his head and beard. He had an astute look, tempered by the slow easy movements with which he smoothed and straightened the parchment lying on the table in front of him. Nathan was fairer and more aggressive in the carriage of his body.
    “You will take Samuel’s wife into your own household, Isaac?” Nathan questioned.
    Isaac nodded. “She cannot be left to fend for herself. Samuel was a poor provider, but he was all she had since her own family was slain at Stamford ten years ago.”
    Both men sat in silence for a moment, remembering the relatives and friends they had lost when, on the occasion of King Richard’s coronation, anti-Jewish riots had broken out all over the kingdom of England and resulted in the loss of many Jewish lives, most notably at York.
    “Even though one of our own was killed, I have no doubt that it will be determined that a Jew was responsible for the deaths of the three Christians found with Samuel.” Nathan spoke with great heat, his light brown eyes showing in the intensity of their gaze the depth of his anger.
    “Be easy, Brother,” Isaac soothed him. “The castle is nearby, and Lady Nicolaa is our friend. She will give us shelter should there be an outcry against us.”
    “That is only because the king values us for our gold, like a herd of cows to be milked. We are only allowed to trade in usury, yet it is because of that very trade that we have silver and gold that can be stolen, and that we are resented for our riches. Nicolaa de la Haye merely protects that which is precious to her king, no more. It is even rumoured that it was her own husband who led the raid on Stamford all those years ago. Camville will do little to protect us.”
    “There will be no need, if we are circumspect.” Isaac leaned forward towards his brother. “Tell me again of the errand that Samuel was on when he was killed.”
    Nathan shrugged. “As you know, I did not trust Samuel with any matter of importance. He was not of the greatest intelligence. Small tasks he could carry out, and did so for me. But in anything involving greater sums, he became uneasy and invariably offended the client, or miscalculated the figures. Yesterday, I sent him to the manor of Alan de Kyme. . .