Pat McIntosh - The Counterfeit Madam

‘What’s no to like in a glass o hot water?’ demanded the Serjeant. ‘Daft way to start the day, to my thinking. No nourishment in it.’

‘It was — it wasny — she said it wasny hot,’ Annot stammered, ‘though it burned my fingers.’

‘Humph!’ said the Serjeant.

‘What happened next?’ Gil asked. ‘After the men went away, what did you and Marion have to do for your mistress?’

‘She’d go to her prayers,’ Annot bit her lip, then nodded. ‘Aye, that was — for she aye — so she dismissed us, bid us return in an hour.’

‘An hour!’ repeated the Serjeant. ‘Was she praying for the whole o Scotland by name? So you left her an hour. Was she well when you went back?’

‘Oh aye. Well, she must ha been, for she called us in herself — and then we — she would have us wash her — and we’d barely — as soon as her clean shift was on her she would go to — she would-’

‘Go to stool,’ Gil prompted when she hesitated. She nodded at that. He frowned, trying to concentrate. ‘She needed a stick to walk, or else support. So you had to help her across the room?’ She nodded again. ‘And were you and Marion both still present?’

She stared at him, puzzled.

‘We were both washing her. Oh I see, yes, the both of us was getting out her clean cap and her comb and that while she sat there, until — for she shouted at us, Get out my sight you pair o — so we went, I went out to the kitchen to get anither bite o food-’

‘Why had you not had a bite when she was at her prayers?’ Gil asked.

‘I wasny hungry at the time,’ she said simply.

‘So you went straight to the kitchen,’ said the Serjeant. She nodded, sniffling. ‘And where did the other woman go, this Marion? Was she at hand all the time you were away? Never tell me you leave your mistress unattended?’

‘Aye, for she’d — if she bade us — I reckoned a quarter-hour would be-’ Annot swallowed, glanced at Lowrie, and said, more coherently, ‘My mistress sent the both o us from her, so we went.’

‘But where was the other one? Tell me that!’ demanded the Serjeant.

‘Was she about the house?’ Lowrie suggested. ‘Or did she step out for a bit?’

At that Annot’s face crumpled.

‘I canny say,’ she wailed, ‘for I’ve no a notion, only it canny have been Marion that — she never — I canny tell where she was! And then she came to the kitchen, and we — we got talking, so we did, and it was longer than I meant to leave her! And then when I came back she was, she was,’ she scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve. ‘I’ll see her face afore me the rest o my days, I’m certain o’t.’

‘Mistress Annot,’ said Gil. ‘The man that came in just now.’

She blinked at him, trying to follow his thoughts.

‘Sempill of Muirend, aye,’ she said after a moment.

‘When was he last here? Did he have word with your mistress this morning?’

She shook her head in surprise.

‘Oh, no, maister. No this morning. He was here yestreen, right enough, and they had a word.’ Lowrie grunted, but did not comment. ‘Through the window, and all,’ she added.

‘What about?’ Gil asked.

‘I wasny listening. I couldny hear.’

‘So this Marion was about the house for a while on her own,’ said the Serjeant, returning to the immediate issue. ‘How long for, would you say? How far could she get in the time?’

The constable looked up and offered, ‘Maybe she was at the privy hersel.’

The Serjeant guffawed.

‘More than likely,’ he said, ‘by the way this death stinks.’ He laughed loudly again at his joke, sat back in his chair and went on, ‘Did you get all that writ down, Tammas? Good lad. Well, young maister, if you’ll can give us a note of the names of all these that’s gone missing, and a description, we’ll away and let you get on. I’ll get them cried at the Cross and through the town, and one o them will turn out to be the guilty party, most likely this woman wi the two names, that’s as clear as day to me.’ Lowrie looked doubtfully at Gil, and the Serjeant followed his gaze. ‘You’re agreed, I take it, Maister Cunningham?’

Gil shrugged, being careful not to move his head more than necessary.

‘I’m agreed we need to talk to the servants that have run off,’ he said, ‘but I’d say there’s a lot more to learn. We haven’t got the whole story here.’

‘We’ve enough of it for my purpose,’ said the Serjeant, rising. ‘I’ll report all to the Provost if you like, maister, no need for you to go up the hill as well. No, no, Maister Cunningham, it’s clear as day to me, like I said. One of her servants has slain her, and small wonder, wicked crime though it is, from the way she’s treated them.’

‘No, surely no,’ protested Annot, sniffling, while Lowrie looked hard at his notes. ‘None of us would never do a thing like that — it’s been some wicked fellow passing that’s come in off the street and found her unattended-’

‘And stole nothing? Those velvet gowns would sell for a good sum down the rag market,’ said Serjeant Anderson, ‘let alone her beads and the silver cross I saw ben there. No, no, lass, you’ll no tell me. One o them that’s run has taken their chance, finding her unattended and no others in sight, and lifted a mell and nail from the carpenters’ work across the yard. Is there no someone in Holy Writ that got slain that way, maister?’ he asked Gil, who blinked at him and answered almost automatically,

‘Sisera the man of Canaan. In the Book of Judges.’

‘Aye, I thought that,’ said the Serjeant with satisfaction. ‘And where’s Maister Livingstone to be found? In the hall, you say? Right, then. I’ll see you in good time, maisters.’ He gathered up his constable and sailed out. Gil sat back against the wall, put a cautious hand to his aching head and sighed. Lowrie raised his eyes from his tablets.

‘What would you wish to do now, Maister Gil?’ he asked. ‘Have you more questions for Annot here or Attie, or do you want to seek out the mell, or what?’

‘If the women have finished,’ Gil said reluctantly, ‘I’d as soon get another look at the bedchamber. Little chance of any sign anyway, but by the afternoon you’ll have all Glasgow tramping through it to pay their respects and destroying whatever there is.’

‘I’ll go and ask, maister,’ volunteered Annot timidly. He nodded, and she braced herself and set off into the other chamber. Lowrie looked down at his notes again.

‘Do you want to take a copy of this, or should I write it out for you? There’s one or two things they said-’

‘There were, weren’t there,’ Gil agreed. ‘Give me a read of it if you will.’

Although Mistress Bowen was just completing her task when Annot tapped at the door, it was some time before Gil got access to the chamber. The process of locating Attie, the laying-out board and four stools of equal height was a lengthy one; then both Gil and Lowrie had to lend a hand in moving the body onto the board and the board into the middle chamber to rest on the stools. Annot, Mistress Bowen and the kitchen-maid who had helped her saw to the decent disposition of the linen shroud, and stood back. Lowrie reached for his purse, and Gil went to stand in the chamber door, surveying the scene. The two women had obviously turned their attention to the chamber itself when they had dealt with the corpse; the place smelled much fresher than when he had first seen it.

‘Here, what’s this?’ said Mistress Bowen sharply behind him. He turned, to find her looking indignantly at her palm. ‘I’ll no be bought, maister-’

‘Indeed no!’ said Lowrie hastily, his neck reddening. ‘I hope you’ll tell the Sheriff what you found and no other, when the time comes. No, no, it’s in consideration of a dirty task, mistress, and there’s a shroud-penny to Kirstie as well.’