Free [Roger the Chapman 03] - The Hanged Man by Kate Sedley

city, so we stay beside the Avon. But that day, well, we thought we'd like a change, didn't we, Dick?'
    'Like a change,' Dick assured me dutifully.
    'Did you catch anything?' I asked, diverted. 'Apart from the hat, I mean.'
    Two heads nodded in unison. 'A cod, that long.' Jack held up his hands to indicate a length of well over two feet, while his brother went one better and spread wide his arms. 'And then we found the hat. It caught on the end of my line.'
    'End of his line,' Dick said, smiling.
    'What sort of hat?' I returned Dick's smile.
    Jack shrugged, a gesture at once copied by his brother.
    I wondered how the younger boy would fare when the elder went to live with Master Adelard, the weaver.
    'Just a plain hat,' Jack said, 'with a wide brim. All soggy it was, but you could see darker patches on it. We didn't know it was dried blood then,' he admitted reluctantly.
    'But you knew who it belonged to?'
    'We guessed. We'd all heard about Master Woodward being missing.'
    'So what did you do with it?'
    'We meant to take it to Mistress Walker, but Master Herepath just happened along at that moment, so we gave it to him.'
    'Master Edward Herepath?'
    Jack opened his eyes wide at my stupidity. 'Of course.
    His brother was in the Newgate prison.'
    'Newgate prison,' came the expected echo.
    I interrogated them for a few moments longer, but it soon became apparent that they had no more to tell. They could recall nothing other than what they told the sheriff's officers at the time; and even those few details were fading from their minds. Each new day presented them with ever-expanding horizons, and the events of almost a twelve-month since held no interest for them. I thanked them both with solemn courtesy and rose to take my leave. Released from the need to be polite, the boys whooped around their mother, clamouring for a slice of bread, preferably one of the golden-baked crusts.
    Fending them off with practised hands, Jenny Hodge escorted me to the door just as someone knocked. A man stood outside, muffled in his cloak against the cold, its hood pulled well forward to conceal his face. Nevertheless, Jenny had no difficulty in identifying her visitor and gave a nervous start.
    'Oh!' she said, 'it's you.' She glanced sideways at me, then held the door wide. 'Burl's from home at present, but he'll be back soon for his dinner. You'd... You'd best come in and wait.'
    'Thank you, Mistress.' The man stepped across the threshold without sparing me a look, keeping his head lowered so that the hood fell even further forward about his face. He said nothing else before Jenny Hodge ushered me out and closed the door behind me, yet somehow I felt as though I had heard that voice before, and recently.
    I racked my brains, repeating the unknown's words over and over inside my head, but gradually I lost the intonation and gave up trying to remember. I told myself that I was probably mistaken.
    I returned to Alderman Weaver's counting-house, to find him pacing up and down. The aulnager had been gone a little while, all the alderman's cloth being of the required width, with no thin patches from the use of inferior wool. Each roll now bore the aulnager's seal, and awaited collection by the carter.
    'Ah, there you are at last,' was the impatient greeting. 'Here's the letter you wanted for Master Herepath.' The alderman held out a thin sheet of parchment, then snatched it back again. 'He has suffered greatly. You must promise me not to hound him should he refuse to see you.'
    I gave my word willingly, for if God did not mean me to solve this mystery, then I could be on the road once more. And without the assistance of the hanged man's brother, I doubted that I should learn very much. I said my farewells and thanked the alderman for his help. My stomach was telling me that it was time for dinner, a sure sign I was getting better, and I turned my feet in the direction of Margaret Walker's cottage.
    It was as I made my way along St Thomas's Street that I