Michael Jecks - The Prophecy of Death

‘I would be most grateful for anything you can tell me,’ Baldwin said firmly.

‘Then first, you must know this: I am a very enthusiastic supporter of our Lady Queen Isabella. I make no bones about my affection for her. You understand? Good. Then I can tell you some things: first, the man Thomas was the brother of the poor fellow who was killed in the abbey church on the day of the King’s crowning. Remember that?’

Baldwin tipped his head back as realisation hit. ‘Sir John de Bakewell! Of course. I knew that the name of the town was familiar for some reason.’

‘He died when the wall behind him collapsed. Poor old Westminster. It’s not that long ago that the fire took much of the outbuildings, and then there was the jewels robbery in the early years of this century, which was a great embarrassment, and finally this fresh disaster. Just as they hoped to leave so much shame behind them and have a great coronation ceremony, the damned wall fell over and flattened poor John.’

‘It was not an auspicious beginning to the King’s reign,’ Baldwin noted.

‘Hardly. And that man was Thomas’s brother. I understand he was found at his brother’s side by the Queen. And it was she who went to Thomas and helped him up. She was only a little older than he at the time, I suppose, but she had Thomas taken into her household and gradually she elevated him until he became one of her most trusted messengers. Now, of course, he is back here with the King’s men, since the Queen has seen her household taken from her.’

‘So he would be entirely loyal to the Queen, then,’ Simon noted.

‘Yes. As are so many. Many of us have much to thank her for,’ Ayrminne said coolly.

Baldwin and Simon walked hurriedly away from the canon’s lodgings, up past the great Belfry, and back into the New Palace Yard.

There was a small chamber near to the main room where they found the messenger called Thomas sitting with the other, Jack, the guard from the Bishop of Orange’s party.

‘Masters! You want to speak with my friend here?’ Jack said.

‘This is Thomas? Brother of Sir John de Bakewell?’

‘That I am.’

Baldwin stood leaning nearby. ‘We have heard that you were the loyal servant of the Queen until only a short while ago.’

‘That is right. I am still her man,’ Thomas said. ‘I don’t change allegiance just because others seek to forget their own.’

Jack put a hand out to him as though to calm him, but Thomas looked at him in some surprise, as though he was only stating simple facts and not the clearest treason.

‘You were with the Queen in France, but returned with William Ayrminne?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Yes. Why?’

‘Why do you think, man?’ Simon burst out. ‘We’re seeking the murderer of the man who was slain while in the King’s service, and the oil which has been stolen from the King, and you were returning from that place just at the right time.’

‘Me? You think I was responsible for that man’s death? Are you mad?’

‘I shall reserve my judgement on that,’ Baldwin said.

‘I returned with William Ayrminne and the others. All the way to Beaulieu. How could I have left them and hurried to Canterbury? It must have been someone else.’

‘Somebody managed it,’ Simon grated.

‘Perhaps they did. Not I, though.’

Baldwin peered at him closely, but although he and Simon asked more questions with the hope of dislodging the man, there was nothing they could do to shake his apparent conviction of innocence.

Thomas was disturbed by the line that the questioning had taken.

‘You shouldn’t concern yourself. They ask the same questions of all of us,’ Jack said soothingly.

‘I know that!’ All the heralds and messengers were being questioned, of course, but he was alarmed by the way that Sir Baldwin had asked about his own journeys in the weeks before Richard de Yatton’s death. He had been in France, he told them. And yes, he’d come back with the entourage of the Bishop of Winchester.

‘You weren’t the only man coming back in the Bishop’s party,’ Jack said, as though he could read Thomas’s mind. ‘They know that well enough. They can’t state that you left to return to Canterbury. It could have been anyone.’

‘It was a very large party,’ Thomas said uncertainly.

‘So they cannot say it was definitely you, any more than they can say it was someone else.’

‘You mean a man might have been able to leave it without being noticed? Not for long, though. An afternoon and early evening? Perhaps.’

Yes, Jack thought. And then, while riding back through the forest, perhaps a man would have been able to slip away for a moment or two — long enough to defecate, certainly — without causing comment. He had been with large parties like that one. And that same man might have been able to shove a herald’s tabard over a corpse, say.

It was clear that Thomas did not like it. He felt that this questioning was beginning to point in a very unpleasant manner towards himself.

Jack was less sure. He reckoned that it was giving him a clue about others. About a conspiracy. He had heard enough. Someone had waited until Ayrminne’s men had gone from Canterbury, and then wandered in and stolen the oil. It was easy. Then he had lain low in the city until the Bishop of Orange’s men arrived, and perhaps passed the oil on to one of them. Pons and André ran off with the oil, and brought it with them to the Bishop again in Beaulieu. The matter of the herald murdered in the woods was a different affair entirely. Sad, but it had nothing to do with the main issue: the oil. Yes. He felt he had the strings of the story in his hand now, and he was tying them together neatly.

And information about something like this could be valuable.

‘That was a waste of time,’ Simon said as they left the chamber. ‘I need answers, but we’re getting nowhere!’

‘Yes,’ Baldwin agreed. ‘And I begin to see that we have a problem — if we consider men like Joseph or Thomas, they can declare that they are innocent, perfectly happy in the certainty that we will never be able to prove them liars.’

‘What does that mean?’ Simon demanded. ‘All we need do is learn that one man or another was missing, and we have our killer.’

‘And how do we prove a man wasn’t there in the party from one day to the next? It is easy to prove a man was a part of a travelling group, but how do you prove he wasn’t ? If that fellow Thomas was with Ayrminne, and Ayrminne tells us he was with him almost all the way, we have a certainty. If he says he was there, but Ayrminne tells us Thomas was nowhere near him, does that mean he wasn’t with Ayrminne’s men, or simply that Ayrminne didn’t notice him? There is no certainty, Simon. None. How can we make cob without straw or mud?’

‘Well, we have to look for some rock on which to base our conclusions,’ Simon said.

‘How far do we dig for it?’ Baldwin demanded sarcastically.

Simon looked at him coolly. ‘I do not care how far I have to dig! I want Despenser satisfied so that I can know some peace in my home again.’

Jack was thoughtful after the questioning by Baldwin and Simon. Thomas was in no mind to discuss what he had said, but instead sat scowling at a far wall and made a bitter comment or two about the quality of modern knights. It was enough to make Jack think that he either knew, or had guessed, who was guilty of the killing.

This was the sort of affair which could easily lead to a man losing his head, Jack thought to himself, but he had no desire to do so. Still, there were problems for a man who wished for a quiet life. Sometimes he must risk a little in order to get it.

He was unpleasantly certain that he had not cut a dashing figure in the eyes of the knight and his friend the bailiff, but that was little concern to him. There were many others who regarded him in a more respectful light.