Michael Jecks - The Tolls of Death

‘It is clear,’ Simon began, ‘that she was killed there by the rope. It strangled her to death. We had thought that she was mad — the miller’s threat to evict her could have sent her insane — and that she had killed her boys, then hanged herself. But that would mean she’d committed the worst crime there is: infanticide. Could she then regret her own death? If she was mad when she slaughtered them, it could only have made her still more mad. In God’s name, no woman could have decided to save herself after destroying those she most loved. If anything, a sane woman who killed her children could become more mad afterwards, but never sane !’

‘Perhaps she wanted vengeance? Having killed her sons, she decided to seek the man who forced her to do it, in order to make him pay?’ Sir Jules suggested.

Baldwin waved a hand impatiently. ‘Coroner, are you a father?’ When the man nodded, Baldwin continued harshly, ‘Then suppose you yourself murdered all your children. Would you give a damn about anyone else in the world? If despair so entrapped you that you were committed to destroying all that you adored, you would simply wish to end your life as swiftly as possible.’

‘Perhaps the woman had time to repent her crimes and sought to live longer to find God’s forgiveness,’ Adam suggested.

‘You seriously think a mother could do that?’ Simon demanded. ‘I know of no woman who could kill her children and then save her own life. Not if she loved them.’

‘And she certainly seemed to,’ Nicholas breathed.

Sir Jules looked from one to the other. ‘I bow to your greater knowledge on this. I have never held an inquest on — uh — such a case.’

‘You have only recently been given this task, Coroner?’ Simon asked tentatively.

‘I have been enquiring after sudden deaths for some days,’ Sir Jules said haughtily, but then added more honestly, ‘Nearly a week and a half. I believe I have much to learn.’

Baldwin reflected that he too had much still to learn. ‘The woman had the rope around her neck, but she struggled with it, trying to insert her fingers behind it to pull it away, yet she failed. The killer managed to throttle her, and then staged her suicide.’

‘Not easy, surely, with a dead body?’ Nicholas said.

‘No, but not impossible. She was no great weight. A man could set the rope about her neck, the other end over the beam, and pull.’

The men nodded.

‘I think we should seek a murderer.’ Simon looked at the Coroner. ‘I was glad you didn’t think to try to hold an inquest on the woman’s child.’

He pulled a face. ‘I couldn’t! I was too appalled. The very woman I all but brained in the morning loses her child in the afternoon … I’ve never been so close to a recent death, and seeing her so … grief stricken — well, I couldn’t face questioning her. That would have been unbelievably cruel.’

‘Which means we shall have another inquest tomorrow as well as completing Athelina’s,’ Baldwin noted. ‘And seeking her killer, of course.’

‘Quite so,’ said Sir Jules. His face was drawn and fearful with this new responsibility. ‘Yes … quite so.’

Richer went straight from the inquest to the alehouse, and he stood in the doorway looking for Susan.

‘Leave me alone !’

The enraged bellow came from Serlo, who stood in the far corner of the room with a quart pot in his hand. He took a long pull of his drink, then glared about him. ‘I’m staying till I’ve drunk enough,’ he said truculently, ‘and no one’s going to stop me. Sons of whores and bitches, the lot of you!’

Richer immediately knew he should leave. Staying could only provoke the man, and that wasn’t fair, not when he’d just lost his son. Also, Richer’s headache felt like it was about to develop into a migraine after seeing poor Athelina’s body. He had no wish to pick a fight today.

Serlo continued, ‘This place! Athelina’s dead, and suddenly everyone’s miserable. Why? She was only a whore with two bastards. Should have snuffed it long ago. Look at you all! Creeping around because she’s dead, but my baby, my little Ham … no one cares about him, do they? All you want is me quiet, isn’t it?’ He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘It wasn’t my fault he died. He was my son ,’ he continued, more drunkenly introspective. ‘My little boy. I didn’t think he’d get hurt in my house, in God’s name! In my own house … I’d even got the pottage on to cook. How can he be dead?’

Richer was almost at the door, when he heard Serlo give a hoarse oath.

‘Hey, you! Come to gloat, have you? What, going already? You scared of me or something? I’m only a poor sod who’s lost his son, you know. Nothing to be afeared of!’

‘I wasn’t here to gloat, Serlo. I am sorry your son died. I’ll leave you to your grief; I’ve no desire to increase your pain.’

‘Increase my pain? Huh! How can you? When I look at you, I see a man who lost his whole family.’

There was no point in staying any longer.

In this mood, Serlo would only attack him.

Richer was at the outer door when he heard the miller’s next words. The shock made his hand stay on the door, and he knew that, were he to move, he must topple and crash to the floor.

‘Well?’ Serlo taunted. ‘One of my boys died because of a fire, but your whole family went up in smoke. I wonder who was responsible for that, eh?’

Richer shook his head blindly, pulled the door open and stumbled out into the warm afternoon sun.

‘So, Father Adam,’ Baldwin said as he and Simon followed the priest out from the hall. ‘What do you think of this news?’

Adam stopped and faced the two men. ‘I think it’s nonsense. How could anyone suggest such a thing! Athelina broke her heart after losing her man, and it led to those terrible events. That’s all there is to it. It’s sad, but of course she did it.’

‘I should have expected you to defend the members of the vill,’ Baldwin said.

‘I just don’t believe this fabrication you have put together.’

‘Did she turn down your advances?’ Simon demanded.

The priest’s response was enough to confirm Ivo’s allegation. Adam paled and his lips flattened like apples in a press. Then he hissed, ‘How dare you suggest such a thing. I refuse to speak further.’

‘The other woman: Julia. What’s she doing in your household?’ Simon said, ignoring his protests.

‘She is my maid. She looks after me and that is all.’ And at that Adam spun around to march home. He would say nothing more to the uncouth son of an Oxford tavern whore.

The Bailiff and the knight wouldn’t understand anyway. Such men were too rooted in the here and now to be able to comprehend the sort of thing he attempted: to do good to others as Jesus would have wanted.

Except Jesus would have tried to look after Athelina as well, he reminded himself.

To Father Adam’s annoyance, the two wouldn’t leave him. They walked with him, one on either side, and Baldwin studied him as they went.

The priest was white with fury after Simon’s bluntness, and although such a rage might have meant his decencies had been offended, Baldwin shrewdly guessed that there was more to the man’s mood than pique. After all, a rural priest was as aware as any peasant of the realities of fornication, and many would make their own use of the women of a vill. He glanced at Simon and nodded. Ivo was right.

Baldwin spoke again in a more conciliatory tone. ‘Father, we have to understand your position if we’re to learn who killed this woman.’

‘No one else was involved, I tell you! Scratches on her neck? It was probably the hemp that did it.’