Kate Sedley - The Three Kings of Cologne

‘I’m saying,’ I answered carefully, ‘that I believe Dick Manifold to have been the third man in Isabella Linkinhorne’s life. How old would he have been, do you think, twenty years ago?’

Adela snuffed out the candle and climbed into bed. However, she made no attempt to snuggle down, but sat propped against her pillows, looking at me.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes. So? What age would he have been at the time of Isabella’s murder?’

‘Nineteen, perhaps twenty.’ She regarded me through the gloom and wisps of candle smoke still hanging, like wraiths, in the air. ‘I first became acquainted with him when I was about sixteen. He was ten years older. But Roger-’

‘Listen,’ I said urgently, ‘his initials are R.M. I’m convinced, because of something Jane Honeychurch — Jane Purefoy — told me that all three “Kings” had the same initials. Yes, yes!’ I continued impatiently as Adela made a move to interrupt, ‘I realize it’s a coincidence, but coincidences do happen. Furthermore, one of the three was reported as having reddish-coloured hair and so has Richard. It’s going a little grey now,’ I couldn’t help adding on a note of satisfaction, ‘but there’s still a lot of the original colour left. And who would have known of my intention to go to Bath, if not Richard? He probably had the information from you. And if not from you,’ I added hurriedly, as her bosom swelled in indignant denial, ‘then from Mayor Foster. When I reported to him concerning the Hambrook Manor bed, he asked me what my next step would be, and I told him. I daresay he sees Richard daily in the course of his civic duties and could well have passed on the information had Richard questioned him regarding the progress of my enquiries.’

‘Well, yes,’ Adela agreed, ‘but …’

I overrode the doubts she was obviously about to express.

‘Knowing that Jack Gload has a daughter living in Bath, Richard sent him after me on the pretext of a paternal visit, but really with instructions to discover what I knew, how my enquiries were going and, above all, with orders to try and dissuade me from continuing with my investigation. But if Jack found it impossible — to dissuade me, I mean — he was to delay me by fair means or foul, leaving me stranded somewhere on the road, while he returned with all speed to Bristol and reported his failure to Dick. Our dear friend then came to an arrangement with Ranald Purefoy to waylay me — it wouldn’t surprise me at all if money changed hands — and accuse me of trying to seduce his wife. Then Ranald could pummel me into a pulp and deliver Richard’s warning at the same time.’ I lifted my head from the pillow and regarded my wife with some severity. ‘And what is amusing you so much, my dear?’

‘I was remembering your description of Goody Purefoy,’ she gasped. ‘And to think that you could be accused of trying to seduce her! Oh, Roger! What a blow to your self-esteem.’

‘Which just goes to prove how absurd the accusation was,’ I answered austerely, ‘and that it was a trumped-up reason for attacking me. I tell you, “Balthazar” is Richard Manifold.’ I reached up and shook her arm, wishing she would lie down so that I could talk to her face to face in the darkness. ‘Adela, think back to those early days when you first knew him. Did it ever strike you that there was some secret in his past that troubled him? Had there been other women?’

‘Of course there had been other women,’ she replied a little tartly. ‘I’ve told you, Richard was twenty-six when I first knew him, and he was a good-looking man. Oh, not as good-looking as you, if that’s what you want me to say,’ she added with a laugh. ‘But handsome enough to catch the eye of any number of women.’

I didn’t much care for that laugh, but I ignored it. ‘There wasn’t one he mentioned especially?’

‘He didn’t boast about his previous conquests.’

Again, there was something in her tone that made me uncomfortable. And again, I dismissed it.

‘You didn’t marry him, though. Why not?’

She shrugged. ‘I preferred Owen Juett. And in later years, after my return to Bristol from Hereford, I fell in love with you.’

‘You sound as though you regret it,’ I muttered anxiously, straining to glimpse her expression in the half light. ‘Do you?’

‘Do I have cause to?’

My heart began to thump. What did she know? Who could have told her? How could she possibly have found out? It felt as if the name Juliette Gerrish was burned in letters of fire into the darkness of the room. But no; there was no way Adela could have discovered my secret. It was woman’s intuition. And yet I would have sworn that by not so much as a look or a gesture or a word had I betrayed myself. Here, however, was my chance to unburden my soul and confess my sin.

I decided not to take it.

‘Of course you have no cause to regret loving me,’ I answered, throwing as much self-righteousness into my voice as I could summon up without sounding defensive. ‘And if you’ll only lie down, instead of sitting up like a judge on his bench, I’ll prove it to you.’

That made her laugh again. ‘You’re in no fit state for making love, Roger.’ She was right, but she did finally lie down beside me and let me take her in my arms. ‘So, what next?’ she asked. ‘You don’t seriously believe Richard Manifold could be a murderer, do you?’

‘Anyone can be a murderer if he or she is pushed to it,’ I answered soberly. ‘If I’m honest, I can’t be completely certain that Robert Moresby and Ralph Mynott are innocent of the crime.’ I sighed, a foolish action as it hurt my bruised and battered ribs. ‘I have a feeling that this particular killing will remain unresolved. Mayor Foster will have to build his almshouses and his chapel dedicated to the Three Kings of Cologne without the satisfaction of bringing a murderer to justice.’

‘It’s not like you to give up,’ my wife protested, shocked.

‘Oh, I shan’t give up just yet,’ I assured her. ‘I’ve got so far and must go a little further yet. Tomorrow morning I shall go and see Jack Nym before I confront Dick Manifold with any sort of accusation. And before,’ I added grimly, ‘I wrest my purse back from Jack Gload’s thieving clutches.’

I was as good as my word, and cockcrow saw me up and about in spite of Adela’s urgings to remain in bed and nurse my hurts. But I could tell that, breakfast over, she wasn’t sorry to see the back of me. Two more days and April would be out. As well as all her other chores, it was time to be thinking of baking her Whitsuntide cheese cakes.

So I made myself scarce, walking slowly and carefully, so as to tax my bruised limbs as little as possible, through the awakening town and across the bridge to Redcliffe. But however early I was, Jack Nym was always up and about before me, and that morning was already loading his cart with bales of red Bristol cloth from Master Adelard’s weaving shed, assisted by Jack Hodge. The latter’s round, freckled face, so like his father’s, was shiny with the sweat of his exertions, Jack being happier directing operations rather than actually lifting and heaving.

He became aware of someone watching him and swung round, a pugnacious expression on his narrow features, but which cleared when he saw who it was. He inspected my face curiously.

‘Somebody been teaching you a lesson, Chapman?’

‘Such as?’ My tone was acerbic. My present delicate condition was no subject, I felt, for levity.

The carter grinned. ‘Oh, such as keeping your nose out of other folk’s business.’

‘I’m in no mood for funning, Jack,’ I retorted, and both he and Jack Hodge snorted with laughter.

‘What do you want, then?’ Jack Nym condescended to shoulder one end of a bale and help throw it on top of the others already in the cart.