Michael JECKS - The Traitor of St Giles

‘No, he came in through a door at the back, in the alley that runs behind the house. I heard the man who guards the gate asking who was there and opening it.’

‘Would that have been towards the middle of the night or later?’

‘About the middle of the night. It was black as pitch outside.’

‘When you executed Dyne, were you together with Nicholas all the time?’

‘No. We separated to find the man.’

‘Who found him?’

‘Me.’

‘Why did you beat him so harshly?’

‘He had a knife. I had to beat him to make him surrender. Nick arrived later. Why?’

‘Yet you told the Coroner that you knocked his dagger away with ease,’ Baldwin reminded him. ‘The night before you found the felon and killed him, were you with your brother then?’

Andrew frowned with the effort of recollection. ‘No, I don’t think so… No , I was here. That’s right. I’d been with him for much of the day, and we had food prepared, but he sent a ragamuffin brat to us to say that he had been detained at the castle and would feed himself there or at a tavern.’

‘What time was he back?’

‘Again, it was after I had gone to my chamber,’ Andrew said dismissively. ‘And Rose was competent to remove any interest I might have had in affairs outside.’

‘But it was late?’

‘Oh, I suppose. Yes, he would have been quite late home.’

‘There is one more thing. We heard at the inquest that there was a woman dressed in green at the scene. Do you know who that was?’

‘No. I’ve no idea,’ he said coldly.

‘Husband, there is no need to lie for me.’

In the doorway stood Matilda. Baldwin thought her suffering was almost tangible. She was as pale as a corpse, with bright eyes that spoke of plentiful weeping.

Andrew stood. ‘My dear, you shouldn’t be up. Why not return to your bed and rest?’

To Simon he sounded unnecessarily solicitous, but then the bailiff remembered the tenor of their conversation and realised that Andrew was terrified that his wife might have overheard his confession of adultery with his maids.

Matilda waved aside his concerns. ‘You wanted to know who it was in the woods, Keeper? Well, it was me. I was there to try to kill that hideous man Dyne. I wanted revenge.’ She crossed the floor and took her husband’s arm, a cool, elegant woman with the pallor of mourning lying heavily upon her.

Baldwin studied her with interest. ‘You must have been furious when you heard that Dyne was to be exiled.’

‘Why should he live when he killed my daughter? The evil wretch deserved his end.’

‘My wife had nothing to do with his death,’ Andrew said heavily. ‘She didn’t see what happened. We sent her home first.’

‘You went?’ Baldwin asked her, ignoring Andrew.

She met his gaze. ‘No, of course not! I waited in the woods out of sight. I saw it all.’

Simon noticed Andrew’s face at this point. The man had gone quite pale.

Matilda continued, ‘He received a fitting death; I was satisfied. It was the least I could do for Joan and for her father.’

Baldwin glanced at her, then her husband. ‘She wasn’t your daughter, Carter?’

‘No.’

Matilda smiled faintly. ‘Joan was the daughter of my first husband. I was widowed. That was why Nicholas and I came here. And here I met Andrew.’

‘I am surprised your brother could bring his whole business down here. Why did you not remain with him at your old home?’

‘At Witham?’ The name seemed to make her realise she had said too much. She appeared suddenly flustered, making a short angry gesture with a hand. ‘Nicholas was living with my husband and I. When my husband died we both chose to leave. That is all.’

‘Please, go on.’ Baldwin nodded encouragingly. Simon, having noticed the woman’s apparent slip and swift recovery, glanced at his friend but could see only eager interest in Baldwin’s eyes. It was the name she had mentioned, he was sure.

Matilda looked up at her husband’s face with pride. ‘I went off after Dyne with every intention of killing him, but then I saw my man here. Dyne was in the road at the time. When Andrew rode off without killing the wretch I realised that he and my brother were going to lay in ambush farther along the road. I decided to follow Dyne myself, both to make sure that he didn’t escape back to Tiverton, but also in order that I could see his death.’

She paused but Baldwin motioned to her to continue.

‘It was a while before it became dark and then I saw the evil creature stop dead in the road. Ahead of him there was smoke rising from a bowl in the ground near the river.’

‘That would be where Sir Gilbert had camped,’ Simon noted.

‘Perhaps. I thought – and I reckon Dyne thought – that it was an ambush. He darted into the trees. Fearing he might escape, I turned my horse in as well, meaning to track him, but with the noise my horse made, I couldn’t hear a thing. Not until I heard an awful row: a man riding full tilt through the undergrowth. I’m afraid I screamed with fear. One hears such horrible stories about outlaws.’

‘Who was it?’

‘I know it sounds silly, but it was Sir Peregrine. He was making off back towards the northern road, back towards Tiverton.’

‘Ah yes. That would be the road to Withleigh,’ Baldwin confirmed. The same road which Harlewin and Cecily Sherman would have taken, he reminded himself.

‘Then Nicholas my brother heard me. He suddenly appeared on my right, horrified to find me there. He told me to return home.’

‘But you didn’t?’ Baldwin pressed.

She shook her head. ‘I knew my husband and brother were going to make Dyne pay for his crime but I had to witness it.’

‘What exactly did you see?’ Baldwin asked. Andrew opened his mouth as if to speak but Baldwin silenced him with a cutting gesture of his hand.

She glanced down. ‘I saw my husband ride off one way, my brother the other. I followed Nicholas at a distance. I don’t know how long we went back and forth in the woods. It was cold and I felt miserable, but determined to see whatever I could. And then Nicholas came to an open space and went through it to the other side. I heard a dog bark, then a scream. It wasn’t Andrew, and I was convinced it was Dyne. I set off towards it and when I came to a clearing I saw Andrew kicking the boy on the ground.’

Baldwin glanced at Andrew. He had gone white as if recalling the horror of the evening. Baldwin couldn’t condemn the man for killing the lad in revenge. Anyone would have done the same.

Andrew met his gaze. ‘He was going to run. I had to beat him to keep him there. Then I tied him up and waited for Nick.’

‘It’s true,’ Matilda confirmed. ‘I stayed there and watched. Dyne begged to be released, but Andrew hit him over the head and Dyne fell over. Then Nick arrived. He grabbed the boy, held his head back and made sure it was Dyne, then made him kneel, holding his arms behind him, and he screamed as Andrew swung his sword… It was over in moment.’

She was silent, grasping her husband’s arm for support. Baldwin could see that she was exhausted, worn down by the grim events of her daughter’s death and the aftermath.

His voice was more gentle. ‘Did you see anyone else in the woods or along the road?’

‘Yes. After I turned back, I saw Father Abraham on his way to comfort Father Benedict at Templeton. When I had passed him I heard another horse and hid in the trees. It was far from the nearest house and I didn’t want to be caught by a footpad.’

‘Who was it?’

‘John Sherman, and what a filthy mood he was in! Swearing about his wife, calling her all kinds of names.’

‘Thank you,’ Baldwin said and bowed. ‘I am sorry to have asked you to recall these sad events, my Lady.’