Sunday, 18 October
‘Master Crispin!’
Crispin chuckled. The lad was dangerous, no doubt about it. ‘Glad you recognized me before attacking.’ He moved to the center of the alley as Jack approached him.
‘Master, what are you doing here? I thought I was to meet you later.’
‘I had to do a bit of investigating on my own. It just so happened that I saw you earlier and decided to bide my time, see what transpired. That was quite a leap from that second story window. You should be more careful.’
‘I didn’t catch him anyway.’
‘That little matters if we know who it is.’
‘And that’s even worse.’ He related to Crispin all he had learned, and Crispin scowled.
‘The sheriffs will surely never arrest their own.’
‘That’s what they told me,’ said Jack wearily. ‘And if they don’t arrest him, that puts you on very unsure footing.’
‘It puts me squarely on the gibbet.’ Crispin stuffed his arms under his cloak. The alley stank like piss and he motioned Jack to follow. They walked together down East Cheap toward Candlewick.
‘Are you truly going to appear at the trial tomorrow, master? I will sail with you anywhere you wish to go.’
‘You don’t have confidence in my lawyer’s skills? He has yet to examine witnesses.’
‘Why take the chance, master? Let’s go!’
‘And what of you and the young lady? Love blooms, does it not, Tucker?’
He watched Jack squirm, but he was still touched by the boy’s offer.
‘Women come and go,’ he said sagely. ‘But … you taught me everything. I will not abandon you.’
‘Even if I commanded you to?’
Jack raised his chin. ‘Even then.’
He smiled and slapped the lad’s back. ‘Ah, Jack. It does my heart good to hear you. But we need not abjure the realm quite yet.’
‘What have you got planned, master?’
‘A trap. And then my lawyer to call this witness and force him before the judge.’
‘What sort of trap?’
‘It’s not yet formed, Jack. I’m thinking about it.’
‘Well, while you’re thinking we should talk to Madlyn Noreys, for she knows something’s afoot as well. There’s a witness what puts her to see Elizabeth le Porter at her lodgings.’
‘Indeed. It might be worth talking to her. Perhaps she even knows this alderman as well.’
They talked and found themselves heading toward the Shambles when Crispin stopped. ‘Good Christ. Look where I’ve led us.’
Jack stared at the blackened ruin of their home. ‘Blind me. I forgot, too.’
They looked at one another. ‘Are you safe at the Boar’s Tusk, Jack?’
‘Aye. As safe as anywhere, I suppose.’
‘Come back with me to Gray’s Inn and we’ll talk about strategy.’
‘Shouldn’t we talk with Madlyn Noreys first?’
‘I will have Cobmartin send her a missive. Perhaps she will meet us there tonight.’
‘Why would she do that?’
‘If I word the missive just right, I might strike the correct note. In other words, I could make it sound like … extortion.’
‘Master Crispin!’
‘I said it would sound that way, not that it would be that way.’
They hurried to Gray’s Inn, outside London’s walls, and together went up to the lawyer’s eyrie. Nigellus was surprised to see Jack but took his hand in greeting. Crispin sat at the table – which had managed to clutter again – and made room to pen a quick note. ‘There. Nigellus, if one of the inn’s pages could take this note to the Noreys household on Lombard Street and offer to escort the lady here, we might get somewhere.’
‘Interesting that you should mention that particular household,’ said Nigellus. ‘For they have sued the sheriffs to arrest you for the murder of their son.’
‘Truly,’ said Crispin wearily, ‘this is getting old.’
‘What do you hope to gain by talking to Madlyn Noreys?’
‘She knows something. She was seen visiting Elizabeth le Porter. Either to propose she steal the relic or to beg her silence for her son’s indiscretion on the matter. Either way, she will have much to say and it can only help my cause. Well, one of them, anyway.’
Nigellus said nothing more. He called for a page, and soon a boy in livery arrived and took the note with instructions to escort Madlyn Noreys back and only Madlyn Noreys.
They waited. Tucker fussed over Crispin and served him wine. He had to admit, he had missed Jack’s care of him. Of any servant, for that matter. How quickly he had become accustomed to it in the last six years when the twelve years before he had been alone and too poor for such luxuries.
But Jack was more than a servant. Much more. Crispin rested his chin on his hand and watched under droopy lids as Jack moved about the room, trying to tidy.
‘Jack, why don’t you tell me about … Isabel.’
The boy stopped dead and whipped his head around. His face was pale. The freckles adorning it stood out particularly dark on the whiteness of his cheek. ‘Oh. Well.’ He toyed with a roll of parchment. Now the pale cheek reddened with a bloom of pink. Amused, Crispin sat back, hands folded together on his stomach. ‘She’s, er … she’s willing.’
‘That is good news.’
‘Aye. But … now what, sir?’ He pulled up a stool and scraped it across the floor as he slid it against the table. ‘I mean … other men … they … they … and you! You’re always bringing some lass home and then you … but I don’t think … at any rate, she’s young and …’
‘Jack, is there a question somewhere in there?’
‘Master, it’s just that … I don’t know what I’m to do next.’
‘Why Jack Tucker. Are you by chance telling me that you are … inexperienced?’
‘Yes, sir. I try to live by the saints and do as our Lord would wish me. Being chaste.’
Crispin felt a sudden wash of tenderness in his heart for his apprentice, as godly a thief as he had ever met. ‘Oh. Then you must think me a very sinful man.’
‘We-e-e-ll, sir … I …’
‘Never mind. And I do atone. I shrive myself often. For all the good it will do me in the end.’
‘Oh but, sir. You’re different from me. I mean, you’ve been out in the world, haven’t you? You’ve been to the Holy Land. You’ve sailed across oceans. You’ve been to France!’
Crispin dropped his chin to his chest to hide his smile. ‘Men are much the same everywhere, Jack. And our needs … are the same. I have not lived as chaste a life as I should have, but I consider it just compensation for my … circumstances.’
‘And I understand that, sir. That’s what I meant. But as for me. Well, I can wait.’
Crispin gauged him anew. ‘Then you do intend to marry this girl?’
‘Aye, sir. She … she likes me. And I favor her very much. She’s beautiful and … and … different. She likes what I do … what we do. I don’t think I will get bored with her around.’
‘Be careful, Jack. Neither do you want a woman who gets it in her head to stray. Too much freedom in a wife is intolerable. What will happen to your household, your children if she feels the need to roam?’
‘What about that widow from Bath that you fancied in Canterbury? She seemed of much the same temperament as Isabel Langton,’ he said primly.
Crispin smiled remembering her. Alyson was headstrong and independent. He had been surprised that this was appealing to him. But then again, Philippa Walcote had been cut from the same cloth …
‘Ultimately, Jack, it is up to you. Better you than me.’
‘I don’t believe that, sir. Surely there might be a woman for you …’
He frowned. ‘That time has passed.’
He was saved more platitudes from his servant by the knock on the door.
Nigellus, who had been studying his books, suddenly looked up and padded over. He opened it to a woman. Crispin and Jack stood to greet her.
She was in her middle years, with graying hair at her temples, though the rest was covered with a linen kerchief. She wore a modest cotehardie, laced in the front with an ornamented belt. Her amber eyes took in the surroundings, saw Jack and recognized him, and finally looked up at Crispin with a frown. ‘You must be Crispin Guest.’
‘Madam Noreys. I greatly appreciate your coming.’
‘You have your nerve. After you killed my boy, to come asking me for favors …’
‘Madam. These are grievous circumstances. And I … I am sorry for them.’
‘Why should I help you?’
And yet he noticed she had come alone as he had requested. Why would she have done that? He gestured for her to sit but she declined. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
‘Very well.’ Crispin took a moment to collect his thoughts. ‘You see, it has come to our attention that you were seen at the home of Elizabeth le Porter, the murdered woman.’ He let it sit there, curious as to what, if anything, she might say.
She swayed slightly, and he feared she might faint. He stepped toward her and took her arm. ‘Perhaps you should sit.’
‘You are gracious … for a murderer.’
‘I assure you, I am no such thing.’
She sank to the chair, releasing all her strength. ‘So I have heard such of you. And yet, my boy … my John …’
‘Tried to kill me. I’m sorry, but it’s true. I merely defended myself. I did not know that he would … that he would be killed.’
She pulled a kerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. ‘He was always so willful. And Walter. Walter was always spurring him on. He has too much blood in him, does Walter. John always followed Walter about like a pup. He wanted so to be like him. Now he is … he is gone.’
‘Madam, why did you visit Elizabeth le Porter?’
‘It doesn’t matter now.’
‘It very much matters to me.’
Jack pressed his hands to the table and canted toward her. ‘Have you ever heard of Richard Gernon?’
‘Steady there, Master Jack,’ Nigellus cautioned.
Crispin gave his apprentice a harsh look of admonishment, but Madlyn Noreys gasped. ‘Richard Gernon. Richard Gernon? What has he to do with this? Oh Lord! Oh my precious Lord!’ She pressed the kerchief to her face and wept into it. ‘It was him, wasn’t it? Oh, I should have known.’
Nigellus knelt down on one knee to her. ‘My very dear Madam Noreys. If you understand well the character of Richard Gernon, would you be willing to testify to that at the trial of Crispin Guest on the morrow?’
Her face was blotchy and red and her eyes blinked rapidly from her tears. She glanced from Nigellus to Crispin. ‘Should I spare you? Be the cause of your release from the gallows?’
‘Madam,’ said Crispin, ‘if only to soothe your soul. For you know now that I did not kill that woman.’
‘What about my son?’
‘If another trial there must be then you will hear the truth in that one as well. If you know me, if you have heard of me, then you must have heard that Crispin Guest may be many things, but certainly no murderer.’
‘I don’t want to help you …’
‘My dear lady,’ said Nigellus in soothing tones. He handed her a full cup. ‘The law must be fed. And its meat is truth. Justice – the justice of God on earth – cannot be served unless we feed it truth. I beg of you, madam, that you tell what you know in court. For our Lord despises a lie. And a sin of omission is still a sin.’
‘I hear what you say, Master Cobmartin,’ she said tearfully, ‘but how will my boy obtain his justice?’
‘Ah. Well. Some justice is reserved for God alone. For in the case of self-defense – and come now, you cannot deny that this is surely the case, for you admitted yourself how young Walter could spur on your John with little provocation – proof can sometimes be difficult, especially in such a dire situation. And in this case, it can be the word of one against the other. And if one is lying for a means to an end, then an innocent man goes to the gallows. What will you say when you are brought before the Almighty on that Judgment Day we must all face?’
She wept into her kerchief, finally wiped her eyes and nose, and lifted her face. ‘I know in my heart that you were not at fault, Master Guest, but I suffer, and I wish for … someone to suffer as I have. And yet, I cannot let you die if you are innocent. I will speak at your trial. And I will ask my husband to remove the claim in the death of my son.’
Crispin breathed with relief. ‘I thank you, madam.’
‘And so do I,’ said Cobmartin, ‘in the name of the king’s justice and that of the Almighty’s. Now, perhaps we should hear what you have to say.’
‘No.’ She rose, gathering herself again. ‘No. When I see you at the Guildhall tomorrow. I don’t wish to talk about it now.’
Cobmartin followed her to the door. ‘But, madam …’
She didn’t look back but stopped on the threshold. ‘I will be at your trial, Master Guest. And when all this is over, I hope to never see you again.’
Though she never turned around, Crispin bowed to her anyway.
On Monday morning, when the recorder and both sheriffs gathered at the guildhall with the nine jurymen, Crispin enjoyed the look of utter amazement on Loveney and Walcote’s faces when he walked in. It almost looked like disappointment. Perhaps they had hoped he would leave England, never to return.
He strode forward and took his place before the bar, hands before him, gently crossed. Jack took his place by Nigellus and the clerk. The other witnesses were there: Hugh Buckton, Alison Keylmarsh. Even Helewise Peverel was there, biting her lip and looking worried. Jack had told him what the widow had related to him about the relic. And though unanticipated, Crispin was not particularly surprised by the turn of events.
The recorder was reading a parchment and when he noticed Crispin he lowered it to his lap. ‘Very well. Guest is here. Your lawyer wishes to examine some of the witnesses and I have no objections to his doing so. I see we have a new witness … a Madlyn Noreys. Is she present?’
‘I am here, my lord.’
Everyone in the room turned to look at the nervous woman at the edge of the crowd. Her silken kerchief softened her lined features. She was accompanied by an older man. Crispin assumed by the sneer he directed toward Crispin that he was William Noreys, the patriarch.
‘I do not see why my wife must be subjected to this,’ he said.
‘This is a court of the Common Pleas, Master Noreys,’ said Tremayne impatiently. ‘Unless you are called as a witness, kindly keep your comments to yourself. Madam, please step forward.’
Crispin moved aside so that he wouldn’t crowd her.
‘Master Guest, your lawyer has requested to question the witness. Are you agreed?’
‘I am, my lord.’
‘Well then, proceed, Master Cobmartin.’
Nigellus stood and preened like a barnyard cockerel. Crispin supposed that this is what the man lived for, this display of his lawyerly prowess.
‘Now, Madam Noreys, why have you come today of your own volition to testify for Crispin Guest?’
‘Because I know who the true culprit is, and my conscience and my soul will not allow me to be silent.’
The sheriffs leaned forward. Crispin watched them but also kept an eye on the rest of the crowd. He wondered why Walter Noreys wasn’t present. Cobmartin had requested questioning him as well.
‘Who, then, madam? The court is anxious to hear and leave Crispin Guest blameless.’
‘This man is known in London for his vile treatment of women. For nearly strangling them. He has done it. He has killed. And the sheriffs turn a blind eye!’
Both sheriffs jerked to their feet. Walcote spoke first. ‘This woman is a liar. She knows not whereof she speaks.’
‘My Lord Recorder,’ said Loveney. ‘We cannot allow the perversion of justice to continue. She cannot be allowed to speak.’
The crowd burst into chatter and shouts of, ‘Let her speak!’
Sheriff Walcote leapt off the dais toward her and William Noreys flung himself from the crowd to protect his wife. The serjeants didn’t seem to know whom to guard. Crispin moved instinctively in front of her to protect her, but the sheriff merely shoved him aside.
‘Confound it, give me order!’ cried Tremayne. He gestured toward the guards, but again, they were confused as to who their commands were directed to. ‘Protect that woman!’ snarled the recorder. ‘Sheriff Walcote, Sheriff Loveney, sit down and be still. This is the king’s court and I will have order!’ He waved to the crowd of men shouting. ‘You there. If I have to clear this room I will begin with all of you.’ The guards pushed the crowd back and threatened with their cudgels and swords. The sheriffs reluctantly returned to the dais and sat, looking at one another with grim expressions.
Crispin resisted the urge to grin.
John Tremayne resettled on his seat. ‘Now then. Madam Noreys, you were about to say …?’
‘Madlyn!’ hissed her husband.
‘I will not be silent, William! Too much. Too much has happened. I must speak.’
‘Let her speak,’ said Tremayne in a dull voice.
She pressed a hand to her mouth before raising her face again. ‘It is not unknown that this man has a … proclivity of nearly strangling the women he … he comports with. All of London knows it. At least all in the Bread Street Ward do. He likes to pretend to strangle them. And he knew Elizabeth le Porter. It is Richard Gernon, alderman for the city of London.’
The crowd erupted again. Tremayne stood and turned a glare on the sheriffs, but they were busy either hiding their faces or staring heavenward.
Crispin found the antics more than amusing. The cat is now out of the bag. You should have known it would scratch you once released.
There was no getting order. Tremayne motioned to the guards, and they moved toward the crowd, bashing heads and shoving the men back against one another.
It took a while, but the rabble finally settled down. The recorder scanned the crowd when his gaze settled on Crispin who tried to keep his face as passive as possible. It was no use. The recorder blamed him. He stepped off the dais and approached. Once he stood right before Crispin with only the bar between them, he spoke in low tones so that his words would not be heard above the continued noise of the hall. ‘Did you know?’
‘I discovered it yesterday.’
‘We will not bring the alderman into court,’ he hissed.
‘Then you would hang an innocent man.’
He paused to suck in a breath between his teeth. ‘Damn you, Guest. I would be pleased to see you hang. To see you endure the punishment denied you all those years ago. I do not suffer traitors. It would only be your just deserts.’
‘And then a murderer would continue his foul practices on London’s citizens. How else can he be stopped?’
They were nearly nose to nose when the recorder suddenly pulled away and stomped back to his dais.
‘Quiet!’ he cried. ‘I will have order!’
The crowd quieted again, grumbling their protests. Some nursed bloody noses and bruised heads. But they stayed, thirsty for the entertainment.
Fixing his demeanor into something as neutral as he could, the recorder leaned toward Madlyn Noreys. ‘Surely this is only hearsay, madam. You must have proof. Witnesses.’
‘And so I do. For Elizabeth le Porter told me herself that she had had trysts with the gentleman in question. He gave her coins and trinkets. She behaved as his mistress, and she was jealous of his other exploits. She sought to stop them and resorted to extortion.’
‘Wait. Madam, you say Mistress le Porter told you this?’
Cobmartin raised his hand. ‘My lord, before I proceed to that question, may I ask a question of one other witness?’
‘Go on,’ drawled Tremayne.
‘Master Buckton!’ Nigellus turned toward the eel monger.
The nervous man jerked his head. Plainly he had not expected to be called upon.
‘Do you testify that you saw Madam Noreys here going into the lodgings of Elizabeth le Porter not once but several times?’
Buckton nodded his head. ‘Aye, my lord.’
‘Thank you, Master Buckton. So you see, my lord, she was acquainted with Elizabeth le Porter, as this witness says.’
‘But how is this so?’ insisted Tremayne. ‘She was the maid of Helewise Peverel, was she not? How do you know her?’
‘My lord,’ said Cobmartin. ‘I have another witness to call forth. Walter Noreys, the son of our lady witness here.’
‘Good Christ, Cobmartin. Have we not made a circus of this already?’
‘Justice must be served, my lord. Would you not extend every path to make certain an innocent man were not destroyed due to our negligence?’
Tremayne clasped his chin, mouth open in astonishment. He said nothing. Cobmartin must have taken that for assent, for he turned to the crowd. ‘Will Walter Noreys be brought forth!’
There was a commotion at the door. Crispin craned his neck and saw Walter Noreys being dragged in with a serjeant on each arm. They pushed through the crowd and shoved him forward. He stumbled before righting himself and stood meekly next to his mother.
‘Yes,’ said Cobmartin. ‘Master Noreys, did you know Elizabeth le Porter?’
‘No!’ he said sourly.
‘Come, come, man. I have a witness that saw you at her lodgings many a time. Do I bring back my witness to counter your testimony?’
‘All right! Yes, I knew her! This is ridiculous.’
‘And how did you know her, Master Noreys?’
Walter made a scowling grimace and nearly charged the lawyer. ‘That’s none of your business.’
Tremayne stomped his foot. ‘It is the court’s business. You will answer.’
Tremayne’s words seemed to frighten him at last. And though he gritted his teeth, he replied, ‘Because I … I wanted to pay her.’
There were oohs and aahs from the crowd before the lawyer raised his hand to them. ‘Pay her for what, Master Noreys?’
He kept shaking his head, looking at the floor. Madam Noreys touched his shoulder. ‘Walter,’ she said softly, though her face showed her anguish. ‘Pay her for what?’ Plainly she had not heard this before. Crispin glanced toward Noreys’s father and the man covered his face with his hand.
‘Master Noreys,’ urged Nigellus.
‘Very well,’ he said tightly. ‘I wanted to pay her to steal a relic … from that woman!’ He pointed straight-armed at the Widow Peverel. The woman looked on unsurprised, chin raised proudly. ‘To steal it back. It belonged to us. To my family. And now my brother is dead because of that man’ – and he swiveled his arm toward Crispin – ‘and you bring my mother into this sorry mess. I wish to God I had never heard of the Tears of the Virgin!’
Madam Noreys hugged her child, dropping her head to his shoulder and weeping.
Tremayne shook his head. ‘What does this have to do with anything?’
Nigellus pressed his hands together and faced the recorder. ‘My lord, these circumstances seem to surround this relic, the Tears of the Virgin that was in the care of Helewise Peverel, which is why I exhorted the sheriffs to take it into their possession for safekeeping.’
‘And where is that damned relic?’ said the exasperated recorder. ‘Wasn’t it supposed to be brought to court?’
The sheriffs sat uneasily. Walcote spoke. ‘My lord … there was a problem. The, er, relic … was stolen.’
‘What? God in Heaven! When? When had this trial gotten away from me? It’s stolen. Do you know its whereabouts?’
Loveney shook his head. ‘No, my lord.’
‘God forgive me for what I am thinking,’ Tremayne muttered.
‘May I go on, my lord?’ asked Nigellus.
Tremayne looked up. ‘Truly? You wish to go on? You mean there is more?’
‘Oh yes, my lord.’ He swiveled back toward Walter. ‘You tried to pay her to steal the relic. What did she do?’
Walter gently pushed his mother back and pulled his cloak taut. ‘She refused.’
Madam Peverel made a loud noise, and Crispin saw her bury her face in a kerchief.
‘How many times did she refuse?’
‘What difference does it make, you tiresome man? She refused. But I think she was lying. I think she gave it to Guest for safekeeping.’
Crispin couldn’t help himself. ‘And so you burned down my house in retribution!’
‘Burned down your house? I never!’
Crispin reached for his dagger but Nigellus lurched toward him and stayed his hand. ‘Pray silence, Master Crispin,’ he whispered. ‘Now is not the time.’ Running his hand down his dark gown, Nigellus returned to the center of the floor. ‘Let us put that aside for now. As you’ve heard, the sheriffs confiscated the relic while Master Guest was incarcerated. And in the same instance, the relic was stolen. Obviously, Master Guest has naught to do with it. Did you take it, Master Noreys?’
His eyes widened. ‘I did not!’
‘Are you certain? Perjury is a very serious charge.’
‘I … did … not!’
But Crispin was studying Walter hard, seemingly for the first time. He stalked toward him, and the man took a startled step back, shielding himself behind Cobmartin.
‘I have a question for the witness,’ said Crispin tightly.
Cobmartin pondered him with raised brows.
‘I promise to behave myself,’ Crispin said softly.
Nigellus nodded and stepped aside.
Crispin faced Walter. Though he cowered at first, Walter raised himself and stared down his nose. ‘Well?’
‘Do you know who I am?’
He chuffed a laugh and looked around the hall as if to say, This man is an idiot. ‘Of course I know who you are,’ he said witheringly.
‘When did you know?’
‘What sort of question is that?’
‘A pointed one. When had you heard of me? Last week?’
He shook his head and frowned. ‘No. Earlier than that. I cannot tell when. Everyone knows who you are.’
‘And so, presumably, you also knew my character, for one follows the other.’
‘Yes, yes. What of it?’
‘So you knew that, among other things, I find lost objects, that I am trustworthy, that I would never kill without a good reason.’
Walter rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. ‘I suppose.’
‘And you knew all that on Wednesday, fourteenth October.’
He wiped at his mouth. ‘Yes. For God’s sake.’
‘Why then did you go to the Boar’s Tusk with the express intention of hiring me to kill Elizabeth le Porter?’
‘I … I …’
‘There’s no more reason to deny it. You gave me a pouch of coins with instructions to kill her. But you knew who I was all along. You knew I would not in fact kill her but warn her. You wanted only to frighten her, didn’t you?’
‘I … I did no such thing. My Lord Recorder, must I—’
‘Yes,’ growled Tremayne. ‘You must. Now answer the question. Did you go to Master Guest with a pouch of coins and hire him to kill Elizabeth le Porter?’
‘But he wasn’t going to kill her …’
‘By Christ’s toes, man! Did you hire Master Guest?’
‘Oh for … yes. It was a stupid, foolish thing to do. But I knew no harm would come to her.’
‘Although,’ put in Walcote, ‘everyone also knows that Crispin Guest is in sore need of funds. A little murder for so many coins. And who would know?’
Crispin turned his glare on him. Damn the man and his perversity.
Cobmartin took the opening. ‘But we have proved, even with this contrary witness, that he knew that Master Guest would cause no harm. Walter Noreys was in fact the catalyst for all these events to transpire.’
Tremayne leaned forward, his arm on his thigh. ‘I don’t understand. You accuse the alderman Richard Gernon of the murder and yet you bring in all these other facts and witnesses that have little to do with it. Madam,’ – he turned to Madlyn Noreys – ‘I ask again, how did you know this maid of Madam Peverel’s? What had you to do with all this?’
Madlyn Noreys leaned away from the recorder so far she looked likely to fall. But instead of her son helping, Crispin moved in and took her elbow. Walter finally noticed and pushed Crispin back, taking her arm for himself.
‘Madam?’ asked the recorder. ‘I am waiting for an answer.’
She cleared her throat. ‘Because … because she is … was … my cousin, and I sent her to the Peverel household to spy upon them in order to … to … steal the relic.’