Michael Jecks - The Butcher of St Peter's

‘Jordan hated Daniel,’ Baldwin said. ‘He was seeking to destroy Daniel because the sergeant had it as his prime goal to ruin Jordan. Daniel suspected that Jordan was responsible for the thefts from the ships and the reselling of the cargoes to the cathedral, and being a religious man he thought it a disgrace. So he set about finding a means of proving Jordan guilty.’

‘He never struck me as religious,’ the Dean said. ‘A more secular fellow I’d find it hard to imagine.’

‘And yet he almost killed Henry when he found two men burying a suicide in what he thought was holy ground,’ Baldwin pointed out.

‘True enough.’

‘Jordan had no feeling for the Church, though. He set about ensuring that the cathedral had other matters to distract them by arranging for Guibert and Peter to cause discord. And by using Gervase, that was easy. He persuaded Guibert that the people here were less than honourable, giving the Prior a means of embarrassing the chapter, and then arranged that the theft of the body could be acted out. In that way he distracted you, Dean, and sowed more disharmony. He calculated that all would be so bound up in sorting out that dispute that no one would care about a few stolen goods. But Daniel was a thorough man, and determined. Even when Jordan threatened to kill Daniel and his whole family, Daniel continued to the best of his ability.’

‘After he died, Jordan killed the whore’s pander, too?’

‘No, Dean. I think that Mick died before Daniel, probably. That was unrelated, from the sound of things. Mick and Anne were going to leave the city, and Jordan had no desire to see them do that. If they could escape him, other girls in his brothel could try the same thing, leaving him for a new life. He left them as a clear signal to any others that he would not tolerate disloyalty.’

‘Why go back to Daniel’s house last night?’ the Dean asked, frowning.

‘Because he realized that he couldn’t survive any longer in the city.’ Baldwin sighed. ‘Perhaps he sought still to avenge himself on Daniel’s family for the harm wrought upon him. He saw Daniel as the source of his downfall. Perhaps he was right, too. And, terribly, he managed to kill another while he was there.’

‘So it was him killed Daniel?’

Simon shook his head. ‘Reginald told us that he was outside the house when he was almost knocked down by Estmund running out. I think that it’s clear enough no one else was there. Juliana only mentioned one man struggling with her husband. So I think Estmund killed Daniel in fear, thinking he’d be hurt, and fled the place. That was why he ran from the city and hid for so long, poor devil.’

Sir Peregrine slowly let his head fall forward. He only wished all this would stop. There was a wrenching chasm in his heart, and he had no cure for it. All he had wanted was a wife and the chance to have children, but every woman he loved died. Juliana was gone, just as his woman in Tiverton had died, just as his first love had died in Barnstaple. There was no hope. He was marked.

But he had responsibilities. He had no wife, but he had two children to look after and protect.

Mazeline watched as her daughter walked into the hall with her cousin. Jane looked up at her mother’s face when she realized that her father wasn’t in the room too. ‘Where’s Daddy?’

‘He’s not coming back,’ Mazeline said. She eyed her daughter with mingled trepidation and uncertainty. She didn’t know how to deal with Jane any more. It was so long since they had been truly close: Jordan had stolen her away when she was so young that Mazeline had no idea how to win back her affection.

‘He wouldn’t leave me.’

‘He cannot come back, Jane. You and I are all that are left now,’ Mazeline said, thinking of Reg’s face. He had looked despairing when she took her leave this morning. His once cheerful face was twisted with loneliness and loss. Mazeline too felt sad to think that they must part, but there was no other way. Reg had to try to win back his wife, and Mazeline had to bring up her daughter safely, with the help and support of her cousins.

‘He wouldn’t leave me … you forced him away, didn’t you? You’ve got rid of him! I hate you! I hate you!’

Mazeline felt the tears stinging her eyes again, and looked at her cousin with despair, begging for guidance.

Her cousin returned her look with a soft sympathy, and then faced Jane. She slapped the child hard on the cheek. ‘Maid! This is your mother, and you will learn respect for her. Your father’s dead, rot his black soul, and your mother’s the only person to look after you now. So be grateful. And never shout at her again, or you’ll feel my hand again.’

Jane wept while Mazeline waited, wondering what she should do, and then Jane hurtled across the floor to her, hiding her face in her breast, and Mazeline felt as though the sun had suddenly burst through the clouds.

Baldwin stood at Carfoix with an expression of intent concentration darkening his face, and then turned west.

‘Baldwin, our inn is that way,’ Simon pointed out.

‘I am glad,’ Baldwin said, ignoring his words, ‘that Sir Peregrine is praying there.’

They had left him sitting in his chair. He had said that he needed to go and speak to the children, but Baldwin shook his head and beckoned the Dean, saying that first Sir Peregrine should pray for the soul of the woman who had died. At last the Dean appeared to realize how distraught the Coroner truly was, and went to his side to pray with him as Baldwin and Simon left the room.

‘You know, I still find it hard to believe that Estmund could have killed anyone,’ Simon said after a few moments.

‘So do I,’ Baldwin said. They were walking down the road past the fleshfold, and when they reached the alleyway, he stood there a long time staring in towards Daniel’s house.

‘Agnes is there with the children now, isn’t she?’ Simon said after a few moments.

‘Yes.’

‘You have had some thoughts about this, haven’t you?’

‘I do not think Estmund was a murderer. But Reginald did not enter and kill the man, for Juliana would have said. She was unwilling always to accuse anyone of being there, did you notice? She never actually said who she saw in there.’

‘So?’

‘She knew of Estmund’s sadness and his loss. All the women did. But Daniel feared an agent of Jordan’s, so he went about armed, just in case.’

‘Yes.’

‘So suppose it was Estmund. If he had killed her husband, don’t you think Juliana would have told us, even if she felt compassion for his lost family? It is one thing to feel such compassion, another surely to protect the killer of a loved one.’

‘Then who?’

‘I do not think it was Reg. He is no murderer in my opinion, and if it were him, surely again Juliana would have broken her mind searching for him if she didn’t recognize him on the spot. But she accused no one.’

Simon forbore to repeat himself. He waited.

It was not a long time in coming.

‘It was that which made me wonder whether she was the murderer herself. But there was no sign of hatred about her. She loved her man, I think. No, she was protecting someone else. Someone else whom she loved. Someone who feared a night-time visitor as much as she and her husband.’

‘Who?’

‘A little girl could be petrified with fear during the night, Simon. She could sleep dreaming of terrible creatures, and if she were to hear her parents discussing a man who wanted to murder them all in their sleep, might she not store a knife away near her bed? And if she saw a man grappling with her father, trying to kill him, might she not try to save him, whether with her own knife, or her father’s or Est’s, if they dropped one? And if only nine years old, might her blow not aim awry? And afterwards, would she not be tearful and horrified at her hideous accident? And would her mother not do everything in her power to conceal her mistake and try to help her forget it herself? She may have lost a husband, but her first thoughts would be for her child, too.’