Paul Doherty - The Mysterium

‘This is what I want,’ Corbett retorted. ‘Tell me about the night you surprised Evesham with Waldene and Hubert the Monk.’

‘As I said, we kept Lord Evesham’s house under close scrutiny. Waldene and the Monk were seen to enter. We simply watched and waited for another occasion when they entered, and then we followed.’

‘Were you admitted?’

‘No we forced the door. Master Blandeford drew his sword and demanded a servant take us immediately to Lord Walter. He did so. We found him in his chancery room with Waldene and the other rogue.’

‘And what happened then?’

‘Lord Evesham blustered and flustered, but there was little he could do. He was caught red-handed. The gold he held was stolen. He could not explain its presence there. Naturally he had no choice but to deny that the two rifflers had brought it.’

‘You say you caught him in his chancery room.’ Corbett rose to his feet. ‘And what happened then? The two riffler leaders were taken to Newgate — yes?’

Staunton, eyes watchful, nodded.

‘And Lord Walter?’

‘He was confined to his house until the King was informed, then he’d be taken to where his grace wished.’

‘So you left him there?’

‘Yes.’

‘His papers, his manuscripts, his household books, his secret memoranda, didn’t you seize them?’ Corbett glanced quickly at Blandeford, who swallowed nervously and refused to meet his gaze. Lapwing stood half smiling to himself. ‘Well?’ Corbett turned back to Staunton. ‘My lord, you had just arrested a Chief Justice of King’s Bench. He was consorting with well-known outlaws and wolfsheads. I can understand that he’d be confined to his own house under a strong guard, but surely the documents and memoranda, everything in that chamber, could have been of use to you? Why didn’t you seize them?’

‘We tried to, later.’

‘But not immediately?’

‘No, Sir Hugh, we did not.’

‘And what happened to all those documents and memoranda? Don’t tell me! Lord Evesham had a fireplace in his chancery room, not to mention braziers, and when you returned, everything had been burnt, yes?’

Staunton nodded. Corbett breathed out noisily.

‘Did you tell Evesham to burn all his manuscripts, his papers? An act of kindness by one judge to another? Or did the King himself give you such a commission? After all, the less scandal, the better.’

Staunton shrugged. ‘I cannot answer for the King, Sir Hugh, you must ask him yourself. We made a mistake, we thought it would be safe, and yes, when we returned, Evesham had burnt his manuscripts.’

‘You told the King?’

‘Of course. His grace simply said that it was a mistake. Evesham was still finished, his career destroyed. We had all the evidence we needed.’

Corbett nodded and walked over to Lapwing. ‘And you, sir?’ He tapped him on the chest. ‘You visited Newgate just before the riot broke out. Did you tell Waldene’s followers that Hubert the Monk might turn King’s evidence, or vice versa?’

Lapwing held Corbett’s gaze. ‘I’ve told the truth. I acted a part, nothing else.’

‘And when they did escape, those violent, desperate men, who told them to go to St Botulph’s?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps they could have answered that. However, Sir Hugh, you put them on trial and dispatched them to execution. I cannot answer for what their evil wits or nasty souls plotted. I’ve told the truth.’

‘Have you?’ Corbett declared. ‘Have you really? I don’t think any of you gentlemen have told the truth. You may not have told a lie, but. .’ He turned away, waving his hand in dismissal. ‘I may summon you again.’ He walked back behind the table. Even as Chanson ushered Staunton and the rest through the door, he could hear the justice’s protests and complaints. He slouched back in his chair.

‘There’s nothing, is there, master?’ Ranulf whispered, leaning over. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘Oh yes there is. Let’s question Brother Cuthbert and Adelicia.’

‘Together?’ Ranulf demanded.

‘Oh yes, together.’

Brother Cuthbert, garbed in his black Benedictine robe, shuffled in, Adelicia behind him. Corbett was immediately struck by how tall, purposeful and energetic the woman was. She was dressed in a dark blue gown like that of a nun, a veil about her head, her face almost hidden by the gleaming white coif beneath. She was graceful in all her movements. She smiled, bowed at Corbett and took her seat, helping Brother Cuthbert into his. The former parson of St Botulph’s sat down with a sigh, head slightly back, staring at Corbett from under heavy-lidded eyes.

‘You’ve taken the oath,’ Corbett began gently, ‘and now I want you to tell me the truth.’

‘But we have,’ Adelicia murmured. ‘We have spoken the truth. Sir Hugh, I have something else to tell you. Last night, or rather in the early hours of this morning, I was disturbed by a stranger who tapped on the shutters of my anker house.’ As she swiftly told Corbett what had happened, Ranulf’s pen raced across the surface of the parchment, taking down in his own neat cipher everything she said.

‘Do you think it was your brother?’ Corbett asked.

‘Sir Hugh.’ Adelicia brought her hands from beneath the folds of her gown, stretched across and put the jasper-stone ring on the table. ‘He gave me that. Last time I saw that ring was when I gave it to Evesham, who promised to hand it to my brother.’

‘And did he?’ Corbett asked.

‘Yes, he did,’ declared Brother Cuthbert. ‘I brought Boniface’s food. On one occasion I found him examining that ring. He’d slipped it on to his finger. Sir Hugh, it must have been him; Boniface Ippegrave must have escaped. Now he’s returned to wreak vengeance.’

‘One thing at a time. .’ Corbett paused at the tolling of a bell. He felt a slight thrill of excitement. Nothing was embedded in rock. Many of the stories he’d heard were lies, a twisting of the truth. Perhaps it was time to shake the edifice to reveal the sham.

‘Brother Cuthbert, on the night Evesham died, you would have us believe that everything was calm and serene, harmonious as ever.’

‘As well as it could be,’ Brother Cuthbert half joked.

‘Apparently, when you retired, Evesham was in his cell, its door closed and barred both inside and out. Ogadon your guard dog was resting at his post. Then a macabre miracle occurred. Someone managed to go through either a locked door or a barred shutter, then down the steps of that chapel. He or she did not disturb you, but persuaded Evesham to open the door of his chamber. The assassin followed Evesham in, cut his throat and left just as silently and mysteriously locking the door behind him.’ Corbett rested his elbows on the table. ‘Brother Cuthbert, Mistress Adelicia, you are good-hearted people, the evidence will support that. Nonetheless, if you think I believe such a fabulous story, then you insult me. It’s impossible.’

Adelicia glanced quickly at Brother Cuthbert, who just shook his head and stared down, fiddling with the cord of his robe.

‘I don’t believe you,’ Corbett declared, then paused because Ranulf, in his surprise, had dropped his quill. He busily picked up another, sharpening its point with a puzzled look at his master.

‘I believe you two love each other,’ Corbett continued softly. ‘You always have, you always will. Brother Cuthbert, when you were parson at St Botulph’s, you and Adelicia became hand-fast friends, two hearts united, two souls one. In other circumstances, in another place at another time, you would have become man and wife.’ He smiled sadly. ‘I understand that. There’s nothing in Scripture that says a priest cannot fall in love with a woman. Evesham shattered all that, didn’t he? He hounded Adelicia’s brother into oblivion, then he tortured both of you, not with pincers or hot irons but with allegations and accusations. I do wonder if in your hearts, both of you regard what happened at St Botulph’s twenty years ago as punishment for what you thought was an unchaste attraction.’