Michael Jecks - The Tolls of Death

‘No. When his mother Matty died, Serlo was the only family he knew, poor devil. Poor Serlo! He did all he could to help the fellow, and look at what’s happened!’

‘What of others? Can you think of anybody at all who might have wished to hurt Serlo?’

‘Who would want to hurt him? He was a good man,’ Alexander said.

Simon watched him closely. There was a strange frown on Alexander’s face, as though he was unsure of himself. He reminded Simon of witnesses who had said too much. And then there came into his eyes a curious intensity, like a man who realised that something at the edge of his memory could have a bearing.

Then Alexander’s face broke again and he wept, his whole body shuddering. ‘No! I can’t think anyone would hate my brother enough to do that to him. The poor fool!’

Simon was glad when Baldwin and Roger appeared in the doorway, pulling it shut behind them. The Coroner had gone off to sit on a tree stump, his head in his hands. Simon instantly thought that he had been throwing up again, but then he saw that the Coroner was perfectly well. He just looked sad, like a man who was struck by the fact that he must suffer whatever trials were thrown at him. From Simon’s perspective, all he knew was that he would have been violently sick, had he been forced to go nearer the body in the mill, and that he had never missed his wife and family more than he now did. God knows how that poor wife of Serlo’s had reacted on hearing this news. What with the death of her baby, and the grievous wound on her head, it was enough to kill the woman.

It was Baldwin who spoke first. ‘Coroner, that man was murdered. His throat was cut, and he was stabbed several times beforehand.’

‘Stabbed and his throat cut,’ Jules repeated and shook his head. ‘Tut! What is a man to make of something like this? In God’s name, I can understand someone taking a dislike to the fellow — I could see yesterday that he was a rough, brawling sort of churl — but to slaughter him like a Moor and then savage his skull in this way … That is pure evil.’

‘Or proof of a man’s hatred,’ Baldwin said.

Simon interrupted. ‘Alexander here says that a boy was killed in that machine a year ago — a lad called Dan. But he was an orphan, so there’s no one to avenge him.’

‘There is always someone,’ Baldwin said.

‘Richer!’ Alexander breathed. At first, Simon wasn’t sure he’d spoken, but then he spoke louder. ‘Richer atte Brooke! He always hated Serlo. From when they were children, they loathed each other. Richer could have wanted to do this. He did do this! It must have been him.’

They sent Roger to the castle to fetch men to carry this fifth body to the church, Baldwin thinking it would be better for them to wait at the mill with Alexander, rather than let him spread wild allegations. It was bad enough that the place was riven with suspicion after the death of Athelina, without having a man in a frenzy of grief accusing men-at-arms at the castle of murder. There were easier ways of causing a breach of the King’s Peace, Baldwin considered, but not many.

Jules still sat staring at the ground as though in a state of shock. Baldwin had seen men react in this way before, especially in war. They sometimes lost all reason, lost that detachment which is essential for anyone who must lead others into battle. Some, when the weight of decisions grew, would lose themselves in actions which they could comprehend: a man who had been trained as a knight would leave the command of the battlefield to ride in combat himself, risking his own life and the lives of those who fought for him; others of a religious bent might retire from the field and find a welcoming altar at which to pray. There were many kinds of breakdown for a man who was unused to power, or to the appalling turns of circumstance.

Baldwin could feel sympathy for Jules. The post of Coroner was one for which he was neither intellectually nor emotionally suited, in Baldwin’s opinion. As for Roger — now there was a man who could be an influence for good!

‘There is so much to do!’ Jules said with a note of despair. ‘I had more deaths to view before ever I left Bodmin to come here, and now look! I’ve found me another damned corpse!’

‘You had other bodies to go to?’ Simon asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Then send a message to Bodmin, and have a man go to the places where you were due to visit. Better, have a message sent to another Coroner. You can be sure there are none who will be so engaged as you today. When you have done that, you can concentrate on these killings.’

Jules glanced at him. ‘What of Mortimer? I’m ordered to raise the Hue and Cry.’

‘I know who’s responsible for these murders, Coroner.’ Alexander’s face was impassive, but the eyes moved about the area like a frighted stag’s. ‘It was that poxed cur, Richer. He came back here after many years away, and within a few weeks, here we have the death of my brother, whom he detested, the death of the woman whom he lusted after, and her children — the remaining insult to him since they were sired by another on the woman he had thought was his own. Richer atte Brooke, he’s done all this. No one else.’

‘Why do you say he hated your brother?’ Simon asked. ‘What reason did he have?’

‘I don’t know. My brother was a decent, hardworking man. Why should anyone have anything against him?’ Alexander demanded, turning his red-rimmed eyes upon Simon.

Simon couldn’t answer while confronted by the brother’s grief. It would have to wait a little while. ‘Was this apprentice Dan related to Richer?’

When Alexander shook his head, Baldwin said, ‘Simon is right, Coroner. You should be here to resolve these matters. A messenger can go to the Sheriff and raise the posse against Mortimer while you remain.’

‘Very well. I shall do so — then perhaps we can complete the inquest into the woman, and Serlo as well.’

Simon and Baldwin exchanged a look. Before they could speak, however, Alexander was on his feet, his face suddenly red with rage.

‘What? You think you can dispose of my brother’s murder like some whore’s death? You think I’ll let you rush through some decision just so that you can leave the matter and our vill and get on with investigating some other death which is more lucrative, or interesting to you? What is it? You have too many wealthy men dying, do you? Can’t spare time for the likes of us, is that it?’

Sir Jules held up a hand, his face darkening. ‘No, not at all, but there’s no reason to hold me here if there’s a simple answer.’

‘Simple? Yes, it’s simple enough. Arrest Richer atte Brooke and order him to be held until the Justices get here.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘It’s what I meant!’ Alexander spat.

Simon stepped between the two. ‘Wait! Alexander, we won’t achieve much if you spend your time insulting the Coroner. Coroner, I think it might be best if you were to delay the inquests until we have conducted some more enquiries. First, we have to learn whether there actually was anyone who had a reason to attack Serlo …’ He paused when Alexander drew breath. ‘Constable, I know what you’re going to say, but I for one am not convinced. You can raise trouble if you wish, but if you really want to find your brother’s killer, leave the matter to us. We’re used to investigating murder.’

Baldwin nodded behind Alexander, and Simon was grateful at least for that, although his own words depressed him. He wasn’t of a mood to seek out another killer. Already in the last few months he had sought murderers in Gidleigh, in Galicia, and in Ennor. All he wanted was to be able to return to his home, far from the air of menace that seemed to permeate the vill of Cardinham. This mill in particular felt evil. It wasn’t only the body in the millhouse itself, it was something about the whole place, as though the soil itself was tainted. As it was, he told himself. The soil was polluted with the man’s blood, while the mill had been the instrument of his body’s desecration.