The King of Thieves: by Michael Jecks Page A

its share of thieves, I suppose, but to think that a man would dare take a purse within the walls of the Louvre … you
     must admit, that is alarming.’
    ‘I fear I have not been made aware of this crime, Cardinal. If you are concerned about it, you should report it to the castellan,
     not me. Now, I know you told me all you couldabout the man whom you discovered dead, but I hoped that you might have a little more information for me.’
    ‘Such as?’
    ‘Perhaps you can remember something about this man. Were you expecting to hear from somebody about treasure?’
    ‘Did I mention treasure?’
    ‘No, but the servant who came to seek you and brought you to the dead man, told me that the fellow had asked to see you on
     a matter of extreme urgency – about some treasure. Perhaps you had forgotten this?’
    ‘I do not recall it. Perhaps he did say something, but the sight of the dead man drove all other thoughts from my mind.’
    ‘I see.’
    ‘You seem to believe I know something about this man,’ the Cardinal said with a trace of testiness.
    ‘I would expect you to, yes. The man came here from some distance away. He was not from the local garrison, nor, so far as
     we can discover, was he from any of the households nearby. A foreigner, and yet he could ask for you by name. He plainly knew
of
you, if nothing more.’
    ‘Mon Sieur, many, many people know me. They know me by sight, they know of me by name. I am a man of God, and high in the
     Church’s establishment. All know me, and yet you surely do not think I know them in return?’
    ‘You are of course quite right. Now, this treasure. What could he refer to?’
    ‘I have no idea. As I said, I do not know the man, I do not know where he came from, nor why he asked to see me. Plainly,
     I also do not know what he spoke about.’
    ‘Naturally. So you cannot help me in any way about this fellow.’ Jean nodded to himself. ‘Tell me, do you often have men come
     here to speak with you like this?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Very strange that he should have come, then,’ Jean noted. He glanced about him at the tapestries. ‘Very pleasant chamber
     you have, Cardinal.’
    ‘Thank you. I find it pleasant.’
    ‘Fortunate the man didn’t come straight here, isn’t it? If he’d been killed here, there’d be blood all over the place.’
    ‘Yes? Well, perhaps it is a good thing, as you say. There was much blood?’
    Jean nodded. ‘Enough.’
    ‘Oh. I truly did not notice.’
    Outside, Jean stopped and looked up at the walls behind him. On the second storey, where he had just been talking to the Cardinal,
     he was sure that there was a shadow in the window, a shadow that swiftly moved out of sight.
    The servant who had escorted him here from the chapel was lounging at a wall, and Jean beckoned him.
    ‘Boy? You look like the sort of fellow who’d be happy to earn a few sous.’
    ‘Perhaps.’
    ‘It involves nothing too strenuous. What is your name?’
    ‘Philippe.’
    ‘Very well, Philippe. I require your help. You will be aiding me in learning all we may about this dead man.’
    ‘No one knows anything about him, though.’
    ‘No. So anything we learn will be an improvement, will it not?’
    ‘But I have my duties!’
    ‘And so do I. Mine have just been altered, as have yours. In God’s name, boy, I am seeking a murderer. And now, so are
you
.’
    ‘They won’t like it in the kitchen. They’re short-staffed as it is.’
    ‘Less sulking, boy. The staffing levels in the Louvre are not our concern. The fact that a man has been killed in the King’s
     castle is more important to us. Especially since we have no idea who he was. That is the first question: who may know him?’
    Furnshill, Devon
    There were more men passing that day, but nothing on the same scale as the men-at-arms, and Baldwin breathed a sigh of relief
     as he walked out later in the afternoon and lifted his tunic to relieve himself into the small barrel that sat over to the
     western wall of