Michael Jecks - The Tolls of Death

‘Did you kill her because of that?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Kill Letty? ’ Alexander peered up at him in amazement. ‘How could I do that? I love her. She’s the only bright light in my life, now Serlo’s dead. Poor Serlo.’ He began to sob, then stopped abruptly.

‘It must have been very difficult,’ Baldwin observed.

‘What?’

‘Having a child by Matty, when Letty couldn’t conceive.’

‘My Danny was no trouble.’

Simon felt his heart thunder. This was the proof, at last!

Baldwin nodded understandingly. ‘But you were terribly hurt by Serlo’s callous attitude after Danny died so tragically.’

‘It was a very bad time,’ Alexander agreed. ‘Serlo didn’t understand why I was so upset.’

‘So why did you kill Serlo?’

Alexander looked as though he was about to deny it, but then his head dropped slightly and he stared at the floor. There came a time, Simon had observed, when a man stopped bothering to deny what was so obviously true, and this appeared to be still more the case with Alexander. If his mind was twisted and corrupted with madness, how much more difficult was it for him to invent a new tale? The truth was easier.

‘He proved that he didn’t deserve to continue living. I was hurt when he made disparaging comments about my son, my only son; I was hurt again when I heard he’d been taking gifts from people to escape the tolls, because that was taking money from my pocket too; and then I saw that he couldn’t even protect his own boy. He left Aumie and Ham alone, and cost one of them his life. A man who was so selfish and stupid didn’t deserve to live. I killed him, and I’d do it again.’

‘And you went on to try to kill Julia. What had she done to you?’

‘That slut? I thought if she died, it would prove that Gervase was guilty. He deserved to suffer anyway, for his disloyalty. Adultery is a terrible thing.’

‘ You committed adultery. You fathered Danny on Matty,’ Simon said.

‘That was different. She was only a peasant — little better than a whore. Lady Anne is the wife to the castellan. Gervase deserved his punishment! So did Julia. She gave birth to that boy. She was no better than any other stale.’

‘Men have said that they saw Serlo near Richer’s house when it was burned,’ Baldwin said slowly. ‘I don’t think he set fire to it, though.’

‘Serlo? He couldn’t have — he didn’t have the guts. Me, I have always been able to fight back when someone tries to ruin me. That fool Richer made sure that Serlo and I were thrashed when he let our beast loose. The lord of the manor took it for himself, and my father beat us so furiously, I had thought he might kill us. At the harvest, when all were busy in the fields, I went to Richer’s house and set it alight. Serlo was nearby, but when he saw it was ablaze, he ran to fetch help and put it out, the idiot! I loved him, you know, but he was so stupid! His negligence cost me my son, and then he allowed his own son to die. How could I let him live after that?’

‘What about your wife?’

‘You asked me that before! What of her? She would keep going on and on about things … I put her in a trunk to keep her quiet, that’s all. I wouldn’t hurt my Letty. It’s she who kept me sane after Danny’s death. I love her.’

‘What did she go on about?’

‘Oh, she knew I’d killed Serlo. There was blood on my coat, you see, and she realised when she heard that Serlo was dead, that I must have done it. She wanted me to confess to Adam, to do a penance, but like I said to her, I wasn’t going to do that, not when the man was openly carrying on with that slut in his own house. Oh no, I wasn’t going to confess anything to him . But she would keep going on and on at me about it. In the end, I was so angry, I shut her in the chest in my strongroom.’

‘You killed her first. You cut her throat.’

‘ No! ’ Alexander looked at him with anger in his eyes. ‘You’re lying. She’s fine, she’s just resting. I couldn’t hurt my Letty. I love her.’

Just as you loved your brother, Simon thought.

There were many people who declared that, since Alexander was so obviously insane, they should take pity on his soul. The Bishop of Exeter himself was petitioned to ensure mercy was granted to him, but then one morning Alexander was found dead, hanging in his cell by the thongs which had bound his hosen to his tunic. He had spent the evening carefully pulling them free, one by one, and tying them together to fashion a rough noose.

There was no one to grieve for him. Sir Jules certainly didn’t when he went to view the body. To him, the Constable was just one more corpse. Already he had seen more than he wanted to, and at least this was less traumatic — a convicted murderer and madman was not the sort of victim Jules could lose sleep over. It was other deaths that stuck in his memory and returned in his dreams to haunt him. Already he had told his Sheriff that he didn’t want to continue in his post, and so far as he was concerned, the sooner the Sheriff could find another fool to take on this thankless job, the better.

Roger didn’t seem bothered to learn that his Coroner was going to resign. He merely shrugged. ‘Oh well. I’ll just have to break in another one, then.’

Gervase had been in the hall that day, and heard his words. Sir Jules had looked offended, drawing himself up to his full height before stalking away. Roger shook his head. ‘At least there’s a chance I’ll get a man with some brains this time.’

‘Sir Jules wasn’t the brightest?’

‘Not in my experience. He needs a war to blood him. There hasn’t been a decent chance to fight since the King stopped tournaments. That’s what Sir Jules needs — an opportunity to prove himself in the lists, so he could come to the job with an experience of death and the reasons why people kill.’

It was one thing Gervase had no need of: he already knew some of those reasons. However, the thought of pitting himself against another man clad all in mail, was revolting.

No, his fights required more subtlety.

He had been very lucky, he knew, to survive the beating meted out by Nicholas. And in the end, it had achieved Nicholas’s twin objectives: Gervase was far too unwell to attend the inquest, and the castellan had some compensation for his pain and hurt. Yet there was mitigation for Gervase.

As he fell to the floor, he had looked up just once, and saw Anne’s expression. It was love. It had to be . She was looking down at him with that light in her eyes that spoke of her feelings, and the sorrow in her face to see how her bastard husband kicked at him told Gervase that this woman knew at last which of them she truly adored. It was him.

That had decided him, and although the course of action took some planning, it was going to be worth it.

After Warin’s intervention, pointing out that without the steward the manor would soon fail, Nicholas conceded that Gervase might continue in his duties, but only if he no longer slept in the castle or ate at Nicholas’s table. Warin had agreed and now Gervase lived in a small house on the outskirts of the vill.

He had bought the poison from a pedlar, ostensibly to kill some rats in his yard. Then he arranged to have some of Nicholas’s favourite treats delivered on a day when Warin and the castle’s guard were out hunting. The timing couldn’t have been more propitious. Nicholas was eating alone still, not with his wife, because of her faithlessness, and the Lady Anne ate a meagre and curious diet in her room, pale and wan as the birthing came closer. So it was that Nicholas enjoyed the poisoned pies on his own, and scoffed the lot.