The Pardoner's Crime Read Online Free Page A

listening. He pushed open the door of the inn, bent his head under the lintel and entered the smoky interior.
    It was a large noisy room, one end of which was taken up with barrels from which a couple of maids were pouring mugs of ale, while two more girls and a surly looking potman were dispensing them and platters of steaming food among the various heavy wooden trestle tables. A roaring fire, despite the heat of the day, kept a large iron pot above the flames steaming away, filling the inn with a pleasing aroma. This was enhanced by the smell of beef and roast chicken coming out of the open door of a kitchen.
    â€˜A popular place, right enough,’ Sir Richard said over his shoulder to Hubert, as the latter closed the door behind them. ‘I think refreshment would be a good idea before we begin work.’
    The potman passed them and grunted at an empty table by the fire. They sat and removed their gauntlets. Richard was looking round the inn at the assorted clientele when a pleasant female voice demanded his attention.
    â€˜Good day, gentlemen, welcome to my inn. And what can I get you today?’
    Richard had barely looked at a woman since his Eleanorhad died, but this woman immediately struck his attention. She was a large-breasted woman of about twenty-five with a narrow waist, hazel-eyed with wisps of brunette hair escaping from her simple cap. Her skin was too tanned for a lady, yet it suited her pretty and healthy looking face. Her smile revealed strong white teeth with a slight gap between her two front ones.
    He noted that although she talked directly to him, yet her glance had by-passed him and fallen upon Hubert, whom she graced with a smile that lit up her face. Richard smiled inwardly, for he had long been aware of Hubert’s attraction to women.
    â€˜You are I take it Mistress Quigley, the owner of this inn?’
    â€˜That is me, Beatrice Quigley. You have heard of my inn, sir?’
    â€˜The old woman, Alice-at-the-Bar told us when we came through the Northgate. She said that you would be able to point out a local apothecary by the name of Oldthorpe.’
    Beatrice smiled and pointed to a far corner where a portly, middle-aged man wearing a battered liripipe hat was staring into a large pot of beer. Before him were the remains of a meal. ‘Master Wilfred enjoys a hearty lunch,’ she replied. ‘But if you need his medical skills I would suggest waiting a couple of hours, until he gets over his – refreshments!’
    Both Hubert and Richard smiled. ‘I may do that,’ said Richard. ‘But I would also like you to tell me where I might talk with a girl called Lillian.’
    â€˜Who told you that I would know that, my lord?’
    â€˜I heard of it from a man who called himself the Hood.’
    He watched and saw the slight widening of her eyes, as if in alarm. Then her face registered suspicion. ‘And why should you want to talk to this girl Lillian, my lord?’
    â€˜I am Sir Richard Lee and I—’
    A scream suddenly rang out from somewhere upstairs and a moment later a handsome, bare-headed blonde woman appeared at the top of a flight of stairs. She looked shocked,her head turning right and left as if searching for someone. Then they fell upon the mistress of the inn. ‘Beatrice!’ she cried. ‘Come up. You are needed.’ She held up her hands which were covered with blood. ‘And bring that apothecary!’
    The inn customers mostly fell silent at this entry, but no-one seemed particularly interested. Or rather, no one seemed eager to get involved when blood was apparent.
    Richard and Hubert watched Beatrice hitch up her dress and rush through the crowded inn to grab the sleeve of Wilfred Oldthorpe the apothecary and half drag him towards the stairs.
    â€˜Come, Hubert!’ Richard said, as they disappeared upstairs. ‘I am always nervous when I meet someone for the first time with blood on their hands.’
    Hubert