Edward Marston - The Owls of Gloucester

‘Yes, Gervase. As soon as he got back to the abbey, Brother Nicholas would hand the day’s takings over so that they could be entered into the account book then locked away.’

‘So he could not have been killed for gain?’

‘Unlikely.’

‘What, then, was the motive? Anger? Enmity?’

‘I will know more when I speak to the people he visited on his rounds. That is where the real clues lie, Gervase, outside the abbey.’

‘There is still much more within those walls to be dug out,’

said Gervase. ‘I would like to speak to Kenelm and Elaf alone at some stage and I would value another talk with Brother Frewine.

He is a sage old man who has been here longer than anyone else. Nobody is so aware of the undercurrents of monastic life as the Precentor.’

‘Will you take Hubert with you next time?’

Gervase smiled. ‘I will omit to remember to do so.’

Their conversation had taken them as far as the castle but Ralph called a halt before they entered it. He had been keeping his most telling find until the last moment.

‘When I climbed up that ladder, I chanced on something else.’

‘Another dead monk?’

‘Nothing quite as dramatic as that, Gervase. No,’ he said, opening a palm and stretching it out to his friend, ‘I found this.’

‘Where?’

‘Directly below those two hooks I mentioned.’

‘May I see it?’ Gervase picked up the strip of leather and turned it over. ‘Where could this have come from?’

‘You tell me.’

‘Look at that frayed edge. It was torn off something.’

‘Yes, but what?’

Gervase handed it back. ‘This could be a vital clue.’

‘That’s why I’ll treasure it.’

‘What about the sheriff?’

‘Durand? There’s no way I’ll treasure that rogue. Oh,’ he added with a grin, realising what Gervase had meant. ‘Will I tell our host about this little strip of leather?’

‘Will you?’

‘No, Gervase.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it was up to him to find it for himself.’

‘What about those hooks?’

‘Those, too. They are our clues. He has enough of his own.’

‘But we’re withholding evidence, Ralph.’

‘So we are.’

‘Durand will be livid if he finds out.’

‘He’ll turn purple with rage if he discovers that we’ve been snooping around at the abbey and he’s bound to do that if we tell him about the hooks and the strip of leather. Serlo won’t betray us, neither will Canon Hubert. There’s no need for the sheriff to learn about this.’

‘It’s inevitable at some stage.’

‘By that time, we’ll have handed the killer over to him.’

‘Can we keep him in the dark that long?’

‘We’ll have to, Gervase.’

‘Our time is limited, remember. We sit in judgement on the major dispute tomorrow. Once that starts to unfurl, we’ll not be able to pay any more visits to the abbey or to its holdings outside the city.’

‘We’ll find the time somehow.’

‘I foresee difficulties.’

Ralph gave him a hearty slap on the back. ‘Be more positive, Gervase,’ he said, nudging his horse forward again. ‘If we wish something to happen, it will. I have picked up the trail. I’ll not lose the scent now.’

‘Nor will I,’ vowed Gervase.

As soon as they entered the bailey, they were spotted by one of Ralph’s men awaiting their return. He ran across to them.

‘The lord sheriff is anxious to see you, my lord,’ he said.

‘Did he tell you why?’

‘No, but he impressed the urgency of the summons upon me.’

Ralph was worried. ‘Did you tell him where we were?’

‘No, my lord.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I led him to believe that you were still at the shire hall.’

‘Good man!’

He and Gervase dismounted, left their horses with an ostler and set off towards the keep. Ralph had no qualms but Gervase did not share his confidence.

‘What if he knows , Ralph?’ he asked.

‘How can he?’

‘He may have sent someone to follow us.’

‘Then he would have known we were at the abbey and jumped to the obvious conclusion. Some of his men would have hauled us out of there before we could ask our first questions.’

‘I hope that you are right.’

‘Trust me, Gervase.’

‘It’s the urgency of the summons that alarms me.’

‘Sheriffs like people to dance to their command.’

‘There’s more to it than that.’

Durand the Sheriff was in the hall, issuing instructions to his steward who was nodding seriously. When the newcomers entered, the steward was sent on his way. Ralph and Gervase stood before their host, not knowing whether they would be given glad tidings or berated for their audacity for interfering in a murder investigation. The grim expression on Durand’s face seemed to exclude the first possibility. Ralph continued to smile blandly but Gervase braced himself for a searing attack. The sheriff walked right up to them.

‘What I tell you is in strictest confidence,’ he affirmed.

‘Of course, my lord sheriff,’ said Ralph.

‘Nothing will go outside this room,’ added Gervase.

‘It will have to, I fear,’ confided Durand, ‘but we must do our best to keep it within the castle. A letter was delivered to me earlier. From Winchester. Nothing is certain but I have been ordered to make the necessary preparations.’

‘For what?’ said Ralph.

‘A royal visit.’

Gervase was astonished. ‘ Here? ’

‘Yes,’ said the sheriff uneasily. ‘I may soon have another guest under my roof. The King himself.’

On the following morning, work began in earnest at the shire hall. As the commissioners assembled to sit in judgement on the most complex case which confronted them, they put aside all thought of a murder at the abbey and gave their full attention to the matter in hand. Ralph Delchard was relieved to be able to do so because it rescued him, temporarily, from the moral dilemma of whether or not to tell Golde about the possible visit of King William. Ordinarily, he concealed very little from his wife and she, in turn, was refreshingly open with him. He decided that the latest tidings should be kept from her, because he had given his word to that effect. Besides, there was some doubt about the King’s arrival in Gloucester and thus no point in alerting Golde to an event which might not even take place.

Gervase Bret was untroubled by any qualms on the subject. In his opinion, a vow was a solemn undertaking. Having been sworn to secrecy, he did not consider for a moment the notion of divulging the news to anyone else, not even to Canon Hubert and Brother Simon, both as trustworthy as himself. Like Ralph, he did speculate in private on the motives for the King’s rumoured visit but he put none of his conclusions into words. Once inside the shire hall, he forgot all about the warning imparted to them by Durand as he tried to assess the irascible man who first came before them.

Strang the Dane had a loud voice and forthright manner.

‘The land has been mine since I received it from King Edward’s own hand,’ he asserted. ‘I have the charter which proves my incontestable right to it. For some reason, your predecessors chose to question that right and I am now put in the invidious position of having to defend my claim once again. I hope that you have sufficient intelligence to see what is before your noses.’

‘Do you dare to malign our intelligence?’ snarled Ralph.

‘The first commissioners were found lacking in that respect.’

‘On the contrary, they were remarkably astute men which is why they identified so clearly the many irregularities and corrupt practices which have been going on in this county. Your name is linked to them.’