King's Gold

‘As to me, why would I bother? I told you of my suspicions. If I was going to act anyway, why should I tell you first? No, it would not make sense for me to kill him.’ Alured took another mouthful of soup.

‘Your master?’

‘Signor Matteo could have wished vengeance on the man who might have stabbed him, but I was asleep before his door all night. He wouldn’t have been able to pass by me without my knowing.’

‘You sleep lightly?’

‘Always.’

‘And you remained there on your bench until your master opened his door, you said?’

Alured began to nod; it hurt and he winced. ‘Yes. I was there until he came and asked what the noise was all about.’

‘So you were asleep until he opened the door?’

‘I . . .’ Alured was still for a moment as he considered. ‘Perhaps. I must have heard the screams and then, when I turned he was there.’

‘So he was there in the doorway.’

‘Well, I suppose so.’ Alured’s brow was creased with the effort of recall.

‘Was the door actually open?’

Alured’s eyes gazed at him blankly.

‘You realise what this could mean,’ Baldwin said gently.

Alured did not need to nod.

‘What was he wearing?’ Baldwin asked.

‘A loose cloak. It’s quite old and tatty.’

‘I see. What happened to it?’

‘He opened the door and threw it inside.’

Baldwin sighed. ‘And that is that,’ he said. ‘Let us find this man.’

Matteo saw them leaving Benedetto’s chamber. Had they accused him? It was as clear as day that he had been the one responsible for all the mayhem and murder. They must remove him.

Matteo decided he would go and check on his brother. The corridor outside Benedetto’s room was quiet. There was not even a guard. Matteo tapped lightly upon the door and listened. Hearing his brother invite him in, he froze. Just for an instant, he had thought that the men with the grim faces might have killed Benedetto.

He opened the door and walked in. And Benedetto immediately backed away as though he feared him.

‘What is it, brother?’ Matteo asked.

‘I will not lie, Matteo. I am scared of you. How could you kill so many?’

‘Well, how could you try to have me murdered in a London street?’

‘I swear that was not me. I am innocent. We are brothers!’

‘Yes, I believe you,’ Matteo lied. It was clear that Benedetto had convinced the others, but Matteo was trained in intelligence. He could see through the falsehoods put forward by others – and today he knew that his brother was desperate to see him killed.

‘You always feared me, Benedetto, didn’t you? You must have thought I was just a bit too clever for my own good. I was always the bright one in our family. That’s why I ended up with the job of intelligencer – sifting all the lies and deceptions to reach the truth. I did it so well, day in, day out, that Manuele was scared of me. And when he died, you realised the only way to keep the power to yourself was to kill me.’

‘No. I took over because poor Manuele died. That was all.’

‘So you should thank me for that, at least.’

Benedetto’s jaw fell open. ‘You couldn’t have! Not Manuele! Why? All he ever did was try to help you, Matteo!’

‘He would have ruined the bank – I couldn’t allow that. And you were little better. The pair of you, niggling at each other, while the bank was collapsing! You two could not see further than your own ridiculous ambitions. The House of Bardi needs a stronger man in control of it. Someone who can demonstrate good leadership.’

‘Why did you kill Sir Jevan?’

‘You used him to assassinate me. He tried to kill me.’

‘No! Look, Matteo, that day in London there were rifflers all over the city. It was one of them who caught you and stabbed you.’

‘No, brother,’ Matteo said, and in his face there was a sad understanding.

For a split second Benedetto saw his childhood in that face – those happier times when they were all young – and he saw the tear that formed in Matteo’s eye as he held out a hand to him. Benedetto felt a surge of relief to see his brother returned to him. He moved forward, and too late saw the blade that flashed to his chest.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Berkeley Castle

Matteo was out at the bench by the buttery wall when Baldwin, Simon and Sir Richard left Alured’s chamber. His pale features were warmed a little by a flush when he saw the men cross the yard towards him. ‘Sir Baldwin, Sir Richard. Have you any news?’

‘We have news, aye,’ said Sir Richard heavily. ‘We have discovered how Sir Jevan was murdered.’

‘I am glad to hear it. Have you arrested him yet?’

‘We are about to,’ Baldwin said. ‘Matteo Bardi, I accuse you of murdering Sir Jevan. Do you have anything you wish to say?’

‘Me?’ Matteo’s colour drained from his face. ‘But you know I couldn’t have. Alured was outside my door all the while.’

‘He was, yes. But he thinks that you were in the doorway when he woke, and you opened the door to throw your cloak inside. I suppose it was besmottered with blood after you hacked at Sir Jevan.’

‘I didn’t . . . No, it was Benedetto.’