Free Liars and Thieves (A Company of Liars short story) by Karen Maitland Page B

have given up. Not I. I’d already discovered that Robert of Bassingham had a warehouse on the Braytheforde harbour so I made my way there, hoping he might return.
    The banks of the Braytheforde were crowded with warehouses and taverns, chandlers and boatyards. The screams of the gulls mingled with the shouts of the workers, the hammering and sawing of the boat builders. Men strode past, carrying long planks on their shoulders, and women hurried by, with panniers of fish on their backs. Everyone was scurrying about, so it was hard to find anyone who would stop long enough to point out Robert’s warehouse. Finally a boatman gestured towards the largest and busiest building on the quayside, a great wooden structure facing the jetty where little boats were moored.
    A man with red-gold hair was standing with his back to me in the doorway, directing the men who were offloading bales from a nearby boat and hefting them into the warehouse. He turned as I approached and his mouth stretched into an easy smile, as if he was always ready to call any stranger ‘friend’. I realised he was far too young to be the man I sought.
    ‘Forgive me for disturbing your work,’ I said. ‘I’m looking for Master Robert of Bassingham. Is he within?’
    ‘My father? No, mistress. He’s one of the Common Council and they’re sitting this afternoon, but he’ll probably call here before returning home. He usually does, to be sure I haven’t burned the place down or struck some ruinous deal.’ The young man grimaced. ‘I may be his son and his steward, but he watches me closely.’
    I couldn’t help smiling. ‘I’m sure he trusts you, but a good merchant keeps his eye on every detail. No doubt that was how he became successful.’
    The young man laughed, showing fine white teeth. ‘You know my father well, mistress. That is exactly what he says.’
    ‘I know him not at all, but that was what my own late husband used to tell me.’ I hesitated. ‘Do you think your father would spare me a few words on his return? I seek his advice in matter of some investments. I’m told there is none better, unless, of course, you can assist me.’ I touched his sleeve. ‘I’m sure you must know as much as your father. ’
    He flushed with pleasure. I had no intention of taking counsel from such a callow youth, but men are always flattered to be trusted. Compliment them on their handsome appearance – as I might have done now without a word of a lie – and they grow suspicious. Ask a man for his advice and he purrs and preens like a tom-cat.
    Robert’s son gave a modest shrug. ‘I’ve worked with him since I was a boy and have run his business for some time now. And I do know—’
    ‘And what is it you know, Jan?’ a voice boomed.
    Jan’s chin jerked up and a flicker of annoyance crossed his face.
    I turned to look at the man standing behind me and saw the expression of surprise on his face that was undoubtedly on my own, for he was the man who had stared down at me from the guildhall window.
    There was no mistaking that he was Jan’s father. Master Robert’s hair, though greying, showed the same red-gold threads as his son’s. Both were tall and broad-shouldered, but while Jan had the trimness of youth, his father’s waist had thickened. Maturity enhances the features of some men’s faces, though, and it had done so for Master Robert. He carried himself with the confidence of a man who knows he has achieved more than most in his life.
    He inspected me as if I were a bale of cloth or a fleece to be graded and priced. ‘Mistress, I believe you came earlier to the Common Council and were refused admission.’
    ‘Please forgive me,’ I said, ‘I’d no wish to interrupt. I merely hoped to speak to you once your discussions were ended, but your loyal watchman—’
    ‘An idle cod-wit and an oaf. He’ll not be watchman by tomorrow. That I can promise you.’
    Several of the men carrying loads quickened their pace as if they feared the