Read Online [Roger the Chapman 03] - The Hanged Man by Kate Sedley - Free Book Online Page B

to where Burl Hodge was taking a well-earned rest from the rigours of hanging wet cloth on a cold, dank January day. He regarded my approach with some suspicion until sudden recognition dawned. He stopped blowing on his chilblained fingers and grinned.
    'It's you, chapman. Hob and I've wondered how you were doing, if you were up and about yet. A nasty turn you had there. But Mistress Walker will've looked after you. A good woman, that, whatever some people might whisper behind her back. But then, some'd whisper about their own grandmothers. You're still seemingly a bit pale, though. Get plenty of her good victuals inside you. Now what can I do for you?'
    I explained as best I could without taking up too much of his time, for I could see his partner was waiting to hang a new length of cloth which had just been brought from the fulling yard. 'I understand it was your two lads,' I ended, 'who fished William Woodward's hat from the River Frome. Alderman Weaver suggested I speak to them if I could find them.'
    Burl scratched his head thoughtfully. 'They might be at home with their mother this time o' day, but mostly they're out getting into mischief. A pair o' rascals, and always have been. But the elder, Jack, 'll soon be starting his apprenticeship, praise be to St Katherine, for he's to be a weaver, unlike me. This job's not fit for a dog in winter. He's to go to Master Adelard in Redcliffe Hill.
    As to this other business of William Woodward, speak to them by all means, though I doubt either Jack or Dick'll be able to tell you more'n they've told already. All the same, I'd be glad to have the mystery cleared if it were possible. It's been hard on those two women.' 'Where do you live?' I asked, as he turned away to grasp his end of the wet cloth which the second man was pulling from the basket.
    'Hard by Temple Church, near the rope-walk. Knock on any door. Anyone'll tell you where me and my Jenny live.' I left him and his partner struggling with the weight of the red-dyed cloth, fixing it between the two sets of tenterhooks, and retraced my footsteps back through the Redcliffe Gate. I followed the line of the city walls to my right and came eventually to the rope-walk, where two men, one at either end of the stretch of gravel, were twisting strands of hempen fibre into an inch-thick rope.
    Temple Church stood on the corner of Temple Street and Water Lane, and I was quickly directed to Burl Hodge's cottage, where the door was answered by a young, fresh-faced woman in a brown homespun woollen gown. In spite of being flushed from the exertions of cooking, for she was obviously preparing the midday meal, she gave me a smile as wide as her husband's and invited me inside.
    For the second time that morning I repeated my story, while Jenny Hodge brought me a cup of small ale and two of her oatcakes to sample. When I had finished, she said: 'You're in luck. The boys have gone to fetch my bread from the baker's oven, and they should be back any minute. Thursday,' she added, 'is Water Lane's day for baking.'
    Even as she spoke, the door opened and two young lads came in, carrying a large, covered basket. The scent of newly baked bread filled the room, and it was hardly surprising that, ignoring my presence, Jack and Dick Hodge immediately clamoured for a slice off one of the loaves.
    'In a minute,' their mother replied sternly, 'when you've spoken to this gentleman. Listen to what he has to say and answer him nicely.'
    Two round, freckled faces, small counterparts of their father's, were turned towards me with an inquiring air, and the boys flopped down on the bench beside me. I repeated my request for a third time.
    Jack explored his nose with a probing finger while considering his answer. 'It was just a hat,' he said at last, 'wasn't it, Dick? Except there were bloodstains on it.' 'Bloodstains,' his brother echoed with ghoulish satisfaction.
    Jack continued, 'We don't usually fish the Frome.
    Mother doesn't like us going across the