Hugh Corbett 17 - The Mysterium by Paul Doherty Read Free Book Online

befall your enemy.’
    ‘Precisely!’ Edward tapped the table.
    ‘But there is something missing, isn’t there?’ Corbett continued. ‘How could the recipient respond?’
    ‘At the end of the message,’ the King smiled, ‘was a reference; for example, St Paul VI, 2. At first glance the murderer seemed to be referring to one of the Apostle’s letters.’
    ‘But he wasn’t,’ Ranulf exclaimed. ‘It’s St Paul’s Cathedral and the great hanging board or hoarding in the nave. It’s divided into a hundred and forty-four squares, a reference to the Apocalypse; a wall painting on either side of it depicts how many people will be saved at the Last Judgement.’ He paused. Staunton and Blandeford were smiling at him as if he were a child who’d solved a riddle to which they already knew the answer.
    ‘Let us hear it, Ranulf,’ Corbett intervened. ‘It’s a long time since I used the great hoarding.’
    ‘It’s a hundred and forty-four squares,’ Ranulf repeated, wishing the flush in his face would fade, ‘twelve across and twelve down. The horizontal squares are numbered in the Arabic fashion, the vertical in the Roman. VI, 2 would be the square where these two numbers meet. You place your money in an alms box and take a scrap of parchment from a nearby dish. You then write your notice and put it in whatever square you’ve chosen. Everything is advertised there, be it a servant looking for employment, or someone arranging a meeting.’
    ‘Or a murderer,’ Corbett continued, ‘offering up the name of their intended victim. The Mysterium would come to the cathedral and read what was placed there.’ He pulled a face. ‘Cunning and devious is the human heart. The great hoarding is covered in notices, whilst visitors crowd through St Paul’s many entrances.’
    ‘And there’s the disguise, the cowl, the visor,’ Staunton declared. ‘People push and shove; who would guess murder was being planned?’
    ‘So tempting.’ Blandeford’s high-pitched voice held a wistful note. ‘But payment?’
    ‘The Mysterium always demanded the same: two hundred pounds in pure gold,’ replied the King. ‘Again a short message pushed into the hand once the deed was done. It would list the amount as well as the time and place for payment, usually a tavern or a busy church. Another note would stipulate where the money was to be left: in an empty tankard, under a platter or in some wall niche. Who could object? The Mysterium was the assassin, but so was the person who supplied the name.’
    ‘But the hirer could refuse payment.’ Ranulf spoke up, then pulled a face. ‘Though of course,’ he added, ‘he could be blackmailed. He’d already provided the name of his victim. The Mysterium would hold on to that and could denounce him anonymously. Suspicion would already be sharp about a rival’s involvement in his enemy’s murder. Such a denunciation supported by evidence, meagre though it might be, would be highly dangerous.’
    ‘And who would refuse to pay?’ Corbett declared. ‘Many of the rich and powerful would see even two hundred pounds in pure gold as well worth the price. The letter “M” carved on the victim’s brow would proclaim the deed to enhance the assassin’s reputation. I can follow Evesham’s logic. The Mysterium would have to be someone who could plumb the depths of the loathing of one person for another. He’d choose his victim very carefully. Yes, London seethes with hatred and rivalry. We clerks learn about such things. The Great Ones, as we know, hire gangs, rifflers and ribauds to confront their rivals with sword and dagger play in Cheapside. The Mysterium’s method is a better, more silent way. Of course, the person who has hired the Mysterium must ensure that he is nowhere near the scene of his victim’s death. Very, very clever. People might suspect, but there’d be no proof. So how did Evesham eventually trap the killer?’
    ‘Think, Corbett,’ Edward teased. ‘How would