The Midwife's Tale(33)

“How can we get into that chest?” I asked.

Esther strode across her cell to the bed and stuck her hand in the mattress. She withdrew a chain with two keys on it and handed it to me. “This key”—indicating the larger of the two—“is to the door of my husband’s study. The other should unlock the chest. He never took this chain off his neck. Ellen is still in the house, and she will let you in. I told her she should look for another household, but she refused to abandon me. She is convinced I’ll be home soon. You and Ellen are the only ones in York who have shown yourselves to be true friends.”

“I don’t know what I would do without my Hannah,” I said. “But the truth is that even if we find evidence that Stephen had enemies, you are the one who has been convicted of his murder. The Lord Mayor will not reverse the verdict simply because someone else might have been happy to see your husband dead.”

“What other choice do I have?”

I had no answer to that, so I gave her the food that Hannah had prepared, bade her good-bye, and pounded on the cell door. The dwarf shuffled down the stairs, unlocked the door, and let us out. I paused to talk to him.

“You’ve seen more than a few murderers in your time,” I said. “What do you make of Mrs. Cooper? Is she guilty?” At this he stopped abruptly. I could only imagine the scorn with which the soldiers must have treated him, and he wasn’t used to being asked his opinion. He looked up at me, his eyes sharp.

“In my opinion, she’s no guiltier of murdering her husband than I am. Anyone can kill, if they get angry or drunk enough. But this ain’t that kind of murder. This one was cold and careful, very deliberate. She hasn’t got it in her.” He shrugged, as if her innocence were of mild interest but not anything he could concern himself with.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked.

“I saw the letter,” he said. Apparently he took his diminutive stature as license to speak insolently to his betters.

“Then you know I have power in the city,” I said. He nodded. “If you see to it that Mrs. Cooper is well treated, I would count it as a favor to me. And if you hear anything about the murder that I might find of interest, send me word right away. What is your name?”

“Samuel Short,” he said with a laugh. “But they call me Short Samuel, of course. Whatever the case, you have a deal.”

He opened the tower door and ushered us out. We passed through the Castle grounds, crossed the bridge, and reentered the city. By now the summer sun had begun to set, and with the shops closed, we were among the only people on the street.

“Do you believe her?” Martha asked.

“I take it that you do not?”

Martha shrugged. “If I have to choose between an assassin who slipped into Mr. Cooper’s house, poisoned his milk, and then escaped—all without being seen—or a wife who grew sick of her husband’s wandering eye, heavy hand, or inability to get her with child, I’ll look to the wife. That she stumbled on the right amount of poison is nothing more than the devil’s own luck.”

“Stephen would never mistreat Esther, nor would he take a mistress, any more than Edward would!”

“Was he not a man?” Martha asked, arching one eyebrow.

“And even if he did beat her,” I continued, “Esther was telling the truth.”

“How do you know?”

“Unmarried mothers will often lie to me about the father of their bastards, so I know a lie when I hear one.”

“It is possible that frightened girls in pain do not make the best liars,” Martha replied. “And to my eye she was not telling us the truth about something. I promise you that.”

“Perhaps,” I said. “But I believe her. And now it is my duty to discover the guilty party.”

“Your duty?” she asked, puzzled. “As a gentlewoman?”

“As Esther’s midwife. She is my friend and I am her midwife, so I cannot abandon her. I am the only chance she has to escape burning for a crime she says she did not commit.”

“And if we find evidence that she is guilty?”

“I believe she is innocent.”

“But what if you are wrong?”

“Then I will see her burn,” I said. “Justice, however tardy, will be done. That is my duty as well.” By now we had turned onto Stonegate. “But those are concerns for another day. Tomorrow you will take a letter directly to the Lord Mayor informing him that Mrs. Cooper is with child. The execution will have to wait.”





Chapter 9


The next morning I wrote a letter to the Lord Mayor informing him that Esther’s execution would have to wait for some months. I imagined that my verdict would bring an angry letter from Edward or even from the Lord Mayor himself, but there was little that they could do. Men might claim knowledge of the law, government, and the Word of God, but secrets of pregnancy and childbirth remained in women’s hands. I then wrote a more careful missive to Charles Yeoman, asking if he would meet with me that day. I left the letter as vague as I could, for I could not know if he lamented Esther’s fate or might resent my role in putting off her execution. I sent Hannah to Yeoman’s and told her to wait for his reply. Not half an hour later, Hannah returned—Charles Yeoman would see me right away.