Read Online Hugh Corbett 15 - The Waxman Murders by Paul Doherty - Free Book Online

hands and he had copied it. You know what it’s like, Sir Hugh: precious manuscripts are jealously guarded by the scriptoria, libraries and chanceries of monastic houses. Paulents thought he would never find it again, but even so he searched furiously for it. The problem was that he could never tell people why he needed it. Eventually he found a copy of the manuscript in the library of the Shrine of the Three Kings at Cologne. He transcribed the map again, then wrote to me suggesting that he come to England and, with my help and that of the King, search for the treasure.’
    ‘Were Paulents and his entourage ill when they landed at Dover?’ Corbett asked. ‘Wendover claimed they were suffering from some sickness.’
    Castledene shrugged. ‘They were certainly ill, though of what I am not sure. I sought the advice of the city physician, Desroches. Paulents’ family said they felt clammy and tired. I certainly wished to keep them safe.’
    Corbett studied this cunning merchant carefully. ‘That’s not entirely true,’ he declared. ‘There was something else, wasn’t there?’
    Castledene looked as if he was about to deny it, but then he opened the wallet on his belt, took out two pieces of parchment and slid them across the table to Corbett.
    ‘Read them.’
    Corbett picked up the scraps of manuscript; the words on them were carefully written in a clerkly hand.
    Thus says Hubert, son of Fitzurse, the Man with the Far-Seeing Gaze. You have been weighed in the balance. Your days have been numbered. You have been found wanting.
    The other piece of parchment bore the same message. Corbett glanced up. ‘When were these delivered?’
    ‘One to Paulents at his tavern in Dover; the other was handed to me in Canterbury. Hubert Fitzurse, Blackstock’s half-brother, must be responsible.’
    ‘I thought you said he’d vanished?’
    ‘He had, but apparently he has now reappeared. True, Paulents and his family felt ill, but the guards at Maubisson were not posted against sickness . . .’ Castledene gestured at the parchment, ‘rather against those threats, as well as to protect the precious manuscript Paulents had brought.’
    Castledene excused himself, got to his feet, scraping back the chair, and left the chamber. He returned with an exquisitely carved whalebone coffer set in wood with moulded clasps on the front. He fished a bunch of keys from his robe, opened the lock and undid the clasps.
    ‘Those are Paulents’ keys?’ Corbett asked.
    ‘Yes,’ Castledene confessed. ‘I found them in the pocket of his robe.’
    ‘You should have told me!’ Corbett warned. ‘I never saw you do that.’
    ‘Sir Hugh, I cannot trust everybody. When we examined those corpses, others were milling about. I had to make sure. I took the keys and searched Paulents’ chamber. You can see that for yourself. Nothing has been disturbed and neither has this coffer.’ He pulled back the lid and drew out two rolls of parchment. The first was a list of monies Paulents had in England. Corbett could make no sense of the second document; various letters and symbols were strewn across a drawing closely resembling the cloisters of a monastery.
    ‘The Cloister Map,’ Castledene murmured.
    ‘I’ll keep this,’ Corbett retorted. ‘Ranulf will make a fair copy and return it to you, but I must keep the original.’
    Castledene reluctantly agreed. Corbett slipped the manuscript into his own wallet.
    ‘These warnings,’ Corbett leaned across the table, ‘were delivered both to Paulents and to you?’
    Castledene nodded.
    ‘So . . .’ Corbett picked at a wax stain on the tabletop, ‘Paulents arrives in England, he feels unwell. In Dover he receives a threatening message; in Canterbury you receive the same, which means that Hubert, Blackstock’s half-brother, must be hunting both of you.’
    ‘Which is why I had to keep my guests safe. Paulents and I discussed the warnings. We concluded that the safest place was Maubisson, with a strong