Michael JECKS - The Traitor of St Giles

‘And you thought she had killed Sir Gilbert, didn’t you?’ Baldwin said softly.

Sherman’s face was pulled taut as though he was holding the tears at bay with difficulty. ‘I didn’t want to,’ he protested. ‘And when I heard the other woman was dressed in green I knew my wife was innocent. She doesn’t have a green robe.’

‘Nonetheless, you thought she was guilty of Sir Gilbert’s murder, didn’t you?’

‘Oh, God help me!’

Baldwin watched his tears dispassionately. ‘Cecily, perhaps you should tell us your side.’

Cecily stood up from her stool, her mouth working soundlessly, shaking her head.

Baldwin eyed her remotely. ‘You were there: you saw the priest, you saw the horse. Did you stab the knight?’

‘No! No, I swear it!’

John Sherman threw his hands out in appeal. ‘My Lord, leave the matter to me. I will thrash the evil from her. In future she will be loyal to me, I am sure of it.’

Baldwin spoke quietly. ‘John Sherman, I suppose you think she killed him almost in self-defence. “I thought my husband was hunting me: a horse came blundering up, and a man dropped from it. I heard him come closer, and then he fell to his knees. I thought he’d tripped and stabbed him to defend myself ”. It is a good hypothesis. What made you so convinced it was she who committed the murder?’

‘No… No, I won’t condemn her! She is my wife,’ he said, throwing his hands down like a man pleading for his life.

‘Sherman, your wife is innocent, I promise you. Why did you doubt her?’

He gazed at Baldwin blankly. There was an almost crazed hopefulness in his eyes at Baldwin’s words, as if he scarcely dared dream that Baldwin was telling the truth. Slowly he said, ‘It was the inquest. As soon as I saw Sir Gilbert’s body I realised he looked just like me from behind. I thought she had seen Sir Gilbert and struck him down, thinking it was me.’ His voice broke with the horror of what he was saying and he could speak no more.

Cecily licked her lips but had to clear her throat before she could speak. ‘My Lord, why should I have tried to kill this man? I didn’t know him.’

‘But if you thought it was your husband, what better way to remove him?’ Baldwin said coldly. ‘You had hidden in the woods fearing that your husband might have followed you, hadn’t you? And then you saw the man before you and struck. That is what your husband thought.’

‘I couldn’t have killed like that. I am no murderer.’

‘No,’ Baldwin agreed. ‘You are not. The first thing my friend and I thought when we saw Sir Gilbert’s body was that he had been murdered by an experienced man, a professional. This was no frenzied, fearful killing. It was a cold-blooded and deliberate assassination. Only someone with specialised knowledge could have done it.’

‘But who?’ Lord Hugh said.

‘The murderer was a ruthless man, someone with a definite motive,’ Baldwin continued remorselessly. ‘Someone who wanted to remove a potential threat to his lord. Oh, and someone who knew that Nicholas Lovecok had already met him in a tavern. Someone who knew that Sir Gilbert was the emissary of Despenser. Someone who was alone, who was not seen in the woods when everyone else was there. Harlewin le Poter .’

The Coroner felt all the eyes in the room move to him and he gave a surprised smile, raising his eyebrows, protesting mildly, ‘But I was at the road.’

‘Sir Gilbert never came to see you at the roadside. You heard crashing about in the trees, and went in. Let us give you the benefit of the doubt: probably you wished to try to help. You are a King’s officer. You rode into the woods and in a short time you came across a dog’s body. When a horse came blundering towards you, you hid.’

‘He just appeared and leaped down instantly,’ said Harlewin, looking uneasy now. ‘I thought he was after me: I wouldn’t have attacked him otherwise.’

‘You stalked the man while he was weeping for his lost dog. While he knelt at his dead hound’s side, you stabbed him.’

‘I thought he was going to attack me.’

‘Liar!’ Baldwin said coldly. ‘You crept up behind him and stabbed him once, selecting the point which would kill. Then you mounted your house and rode back to the road. Those who saw you there didn’t realise that you had already killed Sir Gilbert.’

‘Why? Why should I have killed him?’

‘It was something I have heard mentioned a couple of times: your corruption. Your reputation seemed unfair because from all I have heard, you have served the King loyally and without double-dealings, yet the stench of deviousness clings to you. It springs from the occasion when you released a man of Earl Thomas’s from gaol. Some Coroners will take money to do such things, but your reputation seemed to be tied to Earl Thomas’s. And Sir Gilbert wanted Lord Hugh to support Despenser.’

Harlewin allowed a fleeting frown to pass over his brow. ‘But how could I have known that?’

‘You told me yourself – you reported that Nicholas had met with Sir Gilbert. It was hardly surprising that Nicholas, a man who himself supports Thomas of Lancaster, should let you, another supporter of his lord, know that there was a dangerous ambassador in the town who had been to call on Lord Hugh.’

‘If you are correct, why should I kill Sir Gilbert? If I knew about their meeting in the tavern, I would also have known that Lord Hugh was committed to the King and wouldn’t change his allegiance.’

Nicholas cried, ‘I didn’t tell him that!’

‘Are you sure?’ said Baldwin.

‘Of course I am! Sir Gilbert asked me about many things and told me he was here to negotiate with Lord Hugh on the Despensers’ behalf, but he never told me the detail of his meeting. He wouldn’t. It was confidential.’

Harlewin shook his head, but then turned and darted for the doorway. Before he could reach it John Sherman leaped forward, hurling himself at the Coroner. Grasping him about the knees, he brought Harlewin down, and when Harlewin looked up, he found himself staring along the naked blade of Sir Peregrine’s sword.

‘Coroner, you are arrested.’

‘Not for long, Sir Peregrine,’ he grinned. He stood and dusted his knees, smiling coolly. ‘As soon as my Lord Thomas hears of my position he will have me released, be assured of that.’

Lord Hugh walked over to Harlewin, looking him up and down with contempt. ‘He may well do that for so loyal a servant, Master Coroner. But before you celebrate, consider this: I have news which may not be so appealing to you. There are stories circulating in London that indicate Lord Despenser is back in the country at the invitation of the King and the bishops. The exile has been declared illegal.’

‘Nonsense! The King wouldn’t dare,’ Harlewin blustered, but his face had gone pale.

‘He did so before with Piers Gaveston; he has done so again. And when Hugh Despenser hears that you murdered his favoured ambassador, I think it won’t matter who your lord may be. Guards: lock him up!’

Lord Hugh called for more wine for all his guests as Harlewin was led away to be locked in the gaol. ‘I understand the reason for his crime, Sir Baldwin, but why was Sir Gilbert’s servant killed?’

‘I confess I wondered about that for a long time too, but if you will call for Toker’s remaining men, they can tell us.’

Owen entered with dragging feet. As he surveyed the faces ranged there, he wished fervently that he had made his getaway from the castle as soon as Toker had left to follow Sir Baldwin. Even the fear of Toker’s reprisals would have been preferable to this.

‘You were one of that band which attacked me?’ Baldwin said sternly.