Michael Jecks - The Malice of Unnatural Death

It was almost dark already when the three men were able to sit at the table at their inn and rest.

‘Not a sign of him,’ Baldwin muttered as he eased his legs out before him and leaned back against the wall.

‘He could have been swallowed by the earth,’ Coroner Richard agreed.

Simon was more positive. ‘Perhaps he has left the city to escape? After seeing what Robinet did to that landlord, I’m notsurprised.’

They had gone to speak to Michael almost as soon as Baldwin and Simon had met the coroner in the tavern. Langatre had taken them at an urgent pace to the physician’s house where he had deposited him, and he had held back as theyentered, as though fearing that Robinet might have been there before them and killed all in the house. ‘He’s a mad bastard,that one. He enjoyed cutting off Michael’s fingers. I swear it! He enjoyed it.’

The tanner was little help. ‘I don’t know where he is. I rented him a room, and then he came to ask for another. That’s all.’

‘You were renting the undercroft to this man, weren’t you?’ Simon pressed him. ‘You knew he was planning to murder the bishop,didn’t you? Why didn’t you tell the beadle? It was your duty.’

‘I didn’t dare. I thought he was a powerful wizard, and it looks as if he is, doesn’t it? I mean, where is he? If he was a man, someone wouldhave seen him by now, and yet he’s disappeared. He must be a necromancer with a lot of power.’

‘He could just be hiding in a room somewhere where the landlord is not fussy,’ the coroner commented. ‘Come, now, where couldhe have gone?’

‘I tell you, I do not know!’

Thinking back to his terrified expression, Simon reckoned that if he had even a remote inkling as to where this ‘John’ hadgot to, he would have told them. Apart from anything else, it was clear that he wanted someone else to suffer for the painhe had endured that day.

‘And he didn’t have any more idea where Robinet could have gone,’ Baldwin observed. ‘Where can he have got to?’

‘In God’s name,’ the coroner grunted, loosening his boots, ‘I confess I find these disappearances baffling. Each time someonefinds the wizard, he seems to slip away. And now that damned fool Robinet has gone too.’

‘Perhaps the pair of them have killed each other,’ Simon mused. ‘What do you reckon, Rob?’

‘Me? I don’t know anything, do I? I just get sent to walk about in the cold and stare at people, I do. No brain at all, me. Except I was able to help tell you about the sheriff, of course.’

The coroner had an amiably bovine face, but it concealed a sharp mind, and there was nothing wrong with his hearing. ‘Eh? What’s this?’

Baldwin sighed and closed his eyes. ‘If you continue to speak out of turn, Rob, you will learn that life can be unfair andmore than moderately painful. Coroner, this was some information that came to us. It would seem possible that the bishop hassome strong concerns about the sheriff, and has even gone so far as to put them to the king.’

The coroner whistled low. ‘That could cost the sheriff dearly.’

Simon yawned. ‘His ballocks would be off, wouldn’t they?’

‘I do not like to speculate about matters like this when the man himself has no opportunity to defend himself,’ Baldwin said.‘I should like to know what has led the bishop to leap to this conclusion. There must be some reason for it.’

‘I have not noticed many bishops who need good reason to jump to conclusions,’ the coroner said sourly.

Baldwin smiled, but only fleetingly. He soon reverted to his frowning contemplation, which he maintained as Simon and Coroner Richard ordered food for them all. Before long steaming plates filled with pies and boiled pigeons appeared before them, alongwith a loaf of heavy bread. The sight and smells persuaded Baldwin to turn his attention to the table, and he slapped Rob’shand away from the food quickly, making him wait until the coroner had filled his own plate. Then he motioned to Rob to continue, watching the lad while hesipped at a strong wine.

When they had eaten their fill, and even the coroner declared himself satisfied, Baldwin returned to the matter. Simon hadoften thought that his friend was rather like a dog which would return to worry at a bone until all was gone.

‘I cannot help but believe that a man so determined to attack the king and others would not have run far. But why ? If the fellow is determined to commit murder by means of a demon or some other form of wizardry, surely he could be anywhere. What would be the point of proximity? If I were an assassin, and I wished to kill a man, would I not do so from a distance?’

‘He’s mad. That’s the thing. Like this girl killed the sheriff’s servant. Same thing. Quite potty. She even returned to thesheriff’s hall for some reason.’

‘Why?’ Simon asked.

‘ I don’t know!’ the coroner declared testily. ‘You’d have to be insane to comprehend her motives. Same with this sorcerer.’

‘From what you said, the maid was in love with the sheriff.’

‘No accounting for tastes.’

Baldwin gave a faint grin. ‘True. But the fact is, she thought she would be receiving a generous welcome from her lover, fromthe sound of things. In reality, she petrified the poor fellow. There can be little similarity between her and this John from Nottingham.’

‘Unless there is something unique about the murderer, of course,’ Simon considered. ‘Perhaps it is simply that he hates the bishop and wants to be there when the bishop is struck down?’

‘Perhaps,’ Baldwin said. He stifled a yawn. ‘But after a lack of sleep last night, and all the exertions of searching forthe fellow today, I think I must to my bed. I shall see you in the morning.’

It was later, as Simon entered the room to go to his own bed, that his words returned to Baldwin. Something about the ideaof a demented assassin being in a specific place to witness the effectiveness of his murderous sorcery that stuck in Baldwin’smind. Yet even that could not prevent him from slipping into unconsciousness before Simon had even begun to snore.

Exeter Gaol

Jen woke to a thin, grey light that scarcely managed to illuminate the far wall of the cell.

It was freezing down here. She tried to hunch herself into her clothing to conserve some heat, but it did little good. Notthat it would matter. She was going to die down here, no matter what happened.

There was a part of her that wanted, oh, so desperately wanted, to think that this was all a clever scheme on the part ofher Matthew to lull his wife into a sense of false security, so that he could remove her, and then install Jen as his lover. Perhaps it was only a plan whereby he would remove her from the public’s gaze, and put her in a small cottage of her own nearthe castle, so he could visit her each morning, and his wife know nothing more of it? There were women who lived like that,and although she didn’t think it was completely honourable …

No! She had to stop that line of thought! He didn’t love her. It had been in his eyes yesterday when he had told his men tobind her. It was not love in his eyes, it was not even feigned indifference; it was hatred … disgust — terror, perhaps- but not love. The sight of her repelled him.

‘Sweet Mother, holy Mother Mary, save me!’ she whispered. It was like having two lives: one in which she and her lover plotted to remove the sole obstacle to their happiness, a second in which sheherself was the evil impediment to his joy, and the two lives constantly in dispute with each other inside her head. She didn’tknow which was telling her the truth at any moment. Just now it felt as though the story that she herself was at fault, thatthe sheriff had never desired her, let alone planned to leave his wife for her, was the more truthful, but in a moment sheknew that the other side of her would return and scornfully remind her of the look in his eyes when they had passed in thescreens corridor, or that time when he had met her at the top of the stairs and they had flirted … Which was true?