Michael JECKS - The Traitor of St Giles

‘I have no doubt,’ Sir Peregrine said.

‘Then good day for now. I shall see you at the meal,’ Jeanne said and walked off to follow after the others. At the top of the stairs she happened to glance back. Sir Peregrine was still standing in the yard, looking sad and pensive, and Jeanne felt a burst of sympathy for him. She had lost a husband, but her man had been a bully and it was a source of delight to her that God had seen fit to permit her to marry Baldwin. But Sir Peregrine had found his ideal mate and lost her in childbirth. That was an ironic twist of fate.

As she watched she saw Toker enter the gateway, nod to the porter, and go up to Sir Peregrine, looking about him all the while. He noticed Jeanne and gave her a sneering nod. She walked indoors with a feeling of disquiet. There was something cruel and unpleasant in Toker’s face.

Later she would remember that moment.

Andrew did not rise – he saw no need to. These two weren’t officials in this town and had no authority to investigate any matters. Waving to a couple of chairs, he took a gulp of wine and belched.

‘We were hoping to find your brother-in-law,’ Baldwin said, sitting.

‘He’s not here. What did you want to see him about?’

‘Perhaps we should save that until we have a chance to speak to him.’

‘But while we’re here,’ Simon said, ‘we have a few questions for you about the death of the felon.’

‘Dyne? The bastard was lucky!’ Andrew said, eyeing Simon with distaste and gesturing again to an empty seat. Simon ignored his invitation and remained standing, arms folded.

Baldwin sniffed. ‘He was severely beaten and executed – and so was another man last night.’

‘Another?’ Andrew looked at him with surprise. ‘Who?’

‘William, Sir Gilbert’s servant. It seems most strange that the knight’s own servant, a man who could have seen something on the night that Sir Gilbert died, should now himself be dead.’

‘A coincidence, surely. Where did he die?’

‘We found his body in the river. But the question has to be, did he see something incriminating on the night of Sir Gilbert’s murder, or was he killed for another reason? And there are rumours…’

‘In a town like this there are always rumours.’

‘Really? Because, you see, there are stories that Dyne was innocent.’

Andrew dropped his cup. It shattered on the floor, shards of pottery bouncing in all directions, but he didn’t notice. ‘What? Do you mean – but they must be inventing it. It’s peasants talking… blasted fools and cretins the lot of them! What do they know?’

‘Often rather more than we do,’ Baldwin murmured.

‘Well, if he was innocent, who killed my daughter? And why did he confess, eh? Answer me that!’

‘There have been accusations,’ Simon said shortly.

Andrew shot a look at the bailiff. ‘What sort of accusations?’

‘You need not concern yourself with them,’ Baldwin said. ‘But we would like to check some points with you about last night. Where were you?’

‘Most of the time in here, why?’ His face hardened. ‘Do you mean to accuse me of murdering this servant? By God, if that’s what you mean, I’ll…’

Baldwin had been leaning back contemplating the merchant, but now he sat forward and his eyes glittered with near-anger. ‘Stop ranting, man! If you want to cause people to suspect you, you’re going the right way about it.’

‘You dare to come in here and accuse me of…’

‘We are attempting to see who was not involved. However, you have to admit that from your point of view it would be best to clear yourself as quickly as possible.’

‘Me? What do you mean?’ Carter blustered.

‘Simply this,’ Baldwin rasped coldly. ‘Sir Gilbert was murdered, and the only man who could have seen who did it is also now silenced. At the same time, we have discovered that the servant and his master had not enough money to rent a room here in Tiverton, much less make their journey back to London. There are some who might consider that they were robbed.’

Andrew’s face was a picture of astonishment. ‘Robbed, you say? What the hell would I want to rob them for? I’ve got plenty of cash of my own, for God’s sake.’

‘Where were you last night?’

‘I went out to a tavern for a while, but most of the time I was here.’

‘Alone?’ Simon snapped.

‘Why… no.’

‘Who was with you?’

‘My maid.’ He broke off and bellowed, ‘ Rose! ’

It took only a moment for the girl who had opened the door to hurry in. Baldwin eyed her with interest, convinced that she must have been listening at the screens.

‘Rose, tell these men where I was last night.’

She stared at the ground. ‘My master was with me. In his bed.’

Simon shot the merchant a quick look. The bailiff was certain he saw a small smile of self-satisfaction in the man’s eyes. Simon looked down at his feet with a small frown. Some men would happily take advantage of any of the women in their households, but to deflower a child as young as Rose seemed almost barbaric.

‘For how long?’ Baldwin asked.

‘For most of the night,’ she said slowly. ‘From before dark to early morning. Then I had to rise to get on with my work.’

‘Thank you, child,’ Baldwin said, and she turned hurriedly and walked out.

‘You see?’ Andrew said smugly. ‘Was with her all night.’ His expression changed swiftly, and he licked his lips as he gazed from one to the other. ‘But there’s no need to talk about this, is there? I don’t want my wife to find out, or–’

‘Or your brother-in-law?’ Simon asked sharply. ‘You mean to tell me you spent your time with your maid when your wife’s brother was here?’

‘He wasn’t about last night.’ He stopped, a hand flying to his mouth as he realised the implication of his words.

‘Really?’ said Baldwin smoothly. ‘And I wonder where he would have been, then?’

‘I don’t know. Up at the castle, probably. He delivers much of the wine to my Lord Hugh.’

‘When did he get back?’

‘Not until late.’

‘Where did your wife think you were?’ Simon asked.

‘My wife and I were married because it was convenient. It was useful for me and useful for Nicholas. That doesn’t mean I have to enjoy sleeping with her.’

‘She knows you sleep with her maids?’

‘I have not slept in the same room as her for years. She likes her bed in the front of the house, where she can look out over the road. Her chamber is above the hall here. I like mine at the back, where it’s a bit quieter. Nicholas sleeps here in the hall like any guest.’

‘And the servants?’

‘Most are at the back. There’s a small hall for them all out there.’

‘And each night you call Rose to your room?’

‘She is paid well for her services,’ Andrew stated, and there was a small smile on his round face again as he realised what Simon and Baldwin were thinking: they were jealous of him! Well, and so might they be. With girls like Rose in his household Andrew was jealous of no man. ‘She is very experienced, you know,’ he began confidentially. ‘She…’

‘I have no wish to listen to your vulgar bragging about how you have raped your servants,’ Baldwin interrupted sharply. ‘Suffice it to say that I think it a disgrace that a man should so forget his common humanity as to take a girl of that age to his bed.’

Andrew sank back in his chair with a sneer.

‘But,’ Baldwin continued, ‘I do want to hear about your brother-in-law. You say he returned late. How do you know, if your room is at the back of the house? If he slept here in the hall, he’d have come in through the front door, wouldn’t he?’