Liars and Thieves (A Company of Liars short story) Page 7

  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 same fate.

  I clutched at his arm. ‘I would not have any man lose his post because of me. It’s his duty to see the council is not interrupted. You’ve many important matters to discuss. ’

  Robert gazed down at my hand. I withdrew it at once, but not before I saw a movement of his own hand towards mine as if he had meant to touch it.

  Jan must have noticed it, too, and frowned. ‘Mistress . . . I don’t believe I know your name.’

  ‘Catlin. Widow Catlin.’

  Jan nodded. ‘You mentioned your late husband.’ He turned back to his father. ‘Widow Catlin came seeking advice on investments. I was telling her I can certainly advise—’

  ‘Mistress Catlin was seeking me,’ Robert said firmly. ‘Where investments are concerned, it’s the mature, sober mind that’s needed, not the hot head of youth. You’ve a lot to learn yet, my boy, before you may advise others, except on where to buy the best ale or find the prettiest girls. That’s what you’re expert in, lad.’ He gave his son a playful thump on the back and winked at me.

  Jan clearly didn’t appreciate the joke and seemed on the verge of snapping at his father, when his gaze was arrested by something behind me. ‘Fulk!’ he called.

  A short, stocky man scuttled across, his legs as bowed as if they were straddling a barrel. He pulled his cap from his greasy hair and bobbed obsequiously several times to me and to Robert.

  Jan clapped a hand on his shoulder and turned him to face the side of the warehouse. A man in a long robe was waiting, motionless, in the shadows. ‘How long has that friar been standing there? We don’t want him preaching and distracting the men, or begging alms from them. Tell him to try his luck with the rest of the beggars in the markets.’

  ‘He’s not been begging, Master Jan, leastways not since I noticed him. I’d have sent him off with a boot up his backside if he had. He’s staring at you, Master Robert. I thought you must know him.’

  ‘What business would I have with a friar?’ Robert said indignantly. ‘If you saw him loitering here, why didn’t you send him packing straight away? He might be a spy for one of the robber gangs on the river, watching for likely cargoes to steal. God’s blood, must I do your job, man, as well as my own? Here, you!’ he shouted, taking a pace towards the friar.

  Then he stopped, confused: the place where the friar had been standing was empty, leaving only the long, dark shadows cast by the sinking sun. We all scanned the bustling crowd, but there was no sign of the man anywhere.

  Robert drew a deep breath. ‘Too late. We’ll not get hold of him now. If either of you see him here again, tell the men to seize him and ask him what he’s doing. Shake it out of him, if you must. And the watch is to be doubled on the warehouse tonight. See to it, Jan, a man within and two to patrol outside. ’

  Jan nodded, but I could see he was irritated. Clearly, he had not exaggerated when he said his father didn’t trust him.

  Robert, seeming oblivious to his son’s scowls, looked down at me, his expression softening. ‘Now, Mistress Catlin, these matters you wish to discuss with me. Shall we go somewhere we can speak in private?’

  ‘It’s growing late, Father,’ Jan protested. ‘I can help Widow Catlin. Mother’s expecting you early tonight. Sheriff Thomas is coming to dine.’

  ‘I’m not in my dotage yet, Jan!’ Robert snapped. ‘Instead of telling me things I know perfectly well, you’d be better occupied making sure that thieves don’t empty the warehouse while you stand around picking your nose.’

  So saying, he offered me his arm and led me past the warehouse, but as I glanced round, I was certain I saw someone moving in the shadows and had the uneasy feeling that Master Robert was still being watched.

  Footnote

  1 The distinctive pits created by early ironstone mining in Rockingham Forest are known as ‘gullets’.