MAureen Ash - A Deadly Penance

“It could be so,” Bascot said contemplatively. “And, if it is, raises the question of whether or not her husband is aware she is hiding her knowledge.”

“Then she, along with Adgate, must be interviewed again,” Richard agreed. “And let us hope we learn something useful by doing so. So far, we have little to lead us in the direction this investigation should take.”

Having made that decision, he sent the servant on duty outside the chamber door to fetch up the last servant in Petronille’s retinue, the young woman who was Alinor’s maidservant. She was about twenty years of age and came into the chamber confidently, her manner sprightly. Before she entered, Alinor told them that the maid’s name was Elise, and that she was the daughter of the de Humez butler at Stamford.

“I chose her as my personal maid because she has a pleasant demeanour and is enthusiastic in her tasks,” Alinor added. “She also provides me with a lively turn of conversation. Her cheerfulness has helped me get through many a sad hour since my brother’s death.”

True to Alinor’s description, Elise answered their questions forthrightly, saying that although she had not engaged in much conversation with the murdered man, she was sure he had a paramour in the town. “Not long after we came to Lincoln, he started going to a barber in the town to get his hair and beard trimmed,” she said with a cheeky grin, “and I sometimes smelled some kind of perfume on him when we sat down to our meals in the hall. Men don’t usually take such care with their appearance unless there is a woman they want to impress, but I don’t know who she was. It is not a matter which he would have confided to me, for I rebuked him once for being over-familiar and, after that, he kept himself apart from my company.”

Alinor frowned. “You did not tell me that he gave you offence, Elise.”

“There was no need, lady,” Elise replied with a confident air. “I left him in no doubt that I thought him a coxcomb and he did not trouble me again.”

Barely concealing a smile for the direct manner in which Elise had answered their questions, Richard dismissed her and turned to the Templar. “From what the maid has told us, it seems there is a good possibility that Tercel had a paramour in the town. It could be this liaison is at the root of the murder.”

“Maybe that is what Clarice Adgate is keeping secret,” Alinor said suddenly. “She is a young and handsome woman married to an elderly husband. Perhaps she was not ill last night, but used that stratagem as an excuse to leave the feast early-knowing her husband would be engaged with the company in the hall for some hours-so as to meet with Tercel, who was her lover.”

“She would be taking a great risk of discovery,” Richard said. “Her husband could have come to the guest chamber at any time to see how she was faring.”

“But is not danger part of the attraction of an illicit love affair?” Alinor replied. “And maybe there is more that she is hiding. Perhaps Adgate did come to check on her, found Tercel making him a cuckold, and killed him in a fit of rage.”

But even as she made the postulation, Alinor was shaking her head in negation, recalling what Richard had told her of the interviews he and his mother had conducted earlier that morning. “No, that cannot be so. You told me that the other couple who were given lodgings in the old tower-the head of the armourer’s guild and his wife-stayed with Adgate for the duration of the feast and that they all left the hall together when it was time to retire.”

“Besides that, Cousin,” Richard said, “if Adgate had found his wife and Tercel in flagrante delicto, it is more than likely he would have attacked the cofferer in the chamber where he found them and, if he murdered him, done the deed there. And we know that cannot have happened because there is no doubt Tercel was murdered up on the ramparts. The bolt that killed him was embedded in the door post behind him and gives irrefutable evidence that the bow was fired from within the walkway.”

“Also, the choice of such a weapon must be considered,” Bascot added. “We know that the killing must have been premeditated. Whether the crossbow was taken from the armoury in the days since the bowyer last maintained it or just a short time before it was used for the murder, whoever fired it planned his actions carefully. It was not, as you suggest, an act done in the heat of sudden anger. If it were so, Adgate would have used a knife or his fists.”

At Alinor’s downcast look, the Templar hastened to assure her that her proposal was not entirely without merit. “Nonetheless, you may be correct in your assumption that Tercel was having an adulterous affair, and even if it was not with Clarice Adgate, it might have been with one of the other women who attended the feast. If that is so, and her husband knew of it, he may have formulated a plan to kill his wife’s lover under cover of the celebration.” He turned to Richard. “Besides the furrier, do any of the other guild leaders have young and attractive wives?”

“No,” Richard replied. “All the townsmen are of mature years and, except for Adgate, married to women of similar age.”

Bascot posed his next question reluctantly; it was a sensitive one but had to be asked. Before he did so, he explained to Richard his reason for asking it. “We should also consider that the murderer may be a resident in the castle, one of the men in your household, perhaps, who had developed a fondness for a maid and was angry because she had become amorously involved with another man. Or, since it is conceivable that a woman could have fired the bow, a female servant that Tercel had taken advantage of and then spurned.”

At Richard’s nod of acceptance, the Templar said carefully, “Are there any, among your mother’s household servants, that could be suspected of such an entanglement?”

Richard shook his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement at the Templar’s discomfiture, and told Bascot that they had already considered such an eventuality and deemed it unlikely. “As you well know, my mother would dismiss any servant found guilty of lewdness, but that does not mean it did not happen, just that it had not yet caught the attention of her eagle eye, or of Eudo’s, our steward. But my mother is a good mistress and I do not think any of our women servants would take the chance of losing their position, no matter how persuasive Tercel might have been.”

Bascot accepted Richard’s assessment and, leaving the possibility that a paramour was somehow involved in the murder, they turned their thoughts to other ways it might be possible to gain information.

“The two guests that did not spend the night within the ward remain to be questioned,” Richard said. “It is a slim hope, but they may have seen or heard something that might help us. I shall send a message asking them to return to the ward…”

“It might be best to interview them in their own homes or business premises,” Bascot interjected. “A formal interrogation can be intimidating and stifle the remembrance of small details. Since there is little more that can be done here I will, if you wish, go into town tomorrow morning and speak to both of them. I can also go to Adgate’s home and ascertain whether or not it was from his shop that Tercel purchased the furs for your aunt. And, at the same time, try to discover if his wife is, in fact, hiding some detail that may be useful to us.”

Richard accepted the Templar’s offer gratefully. “I must admit that I have had my fill of playing inquisitor and will be glad of a respite, even if only a brief one. Your help is greatly appreciated, de Marins.” The castellan’s son looked over to where Gianni was sitting. “I will have Gianni transcribe a record of the interviews we have just conducted in case you wish to review them. Is there anything else you require?”