Paul Doherty - The Grail Murders

'An allegation's one thing,' Benjamin snapped. 'Proving it is another.' 'And the riddle? Have you really resolved it?'

'Perhaps. I have remembered my schooling: baptism is often called "Jordan's water" after the river where Christ himself was baptised.' Benjamin grinned at my puzzlement. 'But let's leave that for the moment. More importantly, I can prove how Cosmas and Damien died. No ghostly intervention but a most subtle assassin.' He grasped me by the shoulder. 'Listen, Roger, go for a walk in the grounds or try and pour more balm on Mandeville's troubled spirit. Visit poor Southgate, flirt with young Mathilda, but come back here,' Benjamin peered out of the window, 'in about two hours.'

I did what my master asked, trailing around the house like a ghost though no one really wished to speak to me. Rachel had gone to her own chamber. Santerre and his wife were in close council with each other. Mandeville still sulked in the hall whilst the old beldames in Southgate's chamber cackled with laughter and asked if I wanted them to wash me? Of Mathilda there was no sight whatsoever and I realised that Bowyer's death had panicked many of the servants into leaving Templecombe.

I went down to the lakeside and stared across at that mysterious island. I wondered if I should climb into a barge and pole myself across but the mists still hung over the water, I was cold, frightened, and so, following Benjamin's instructions, returned to my own chamber.

I found the door unlocked as I had given my master the key before I left; the light was poor but I could see nothing had been disturbed so lay down on the bed, pulling the curtains around me. I was half-dozing when suddenly I smelt something burning, followed by a small bang under my bed which shook me awake. I pulled back the curtains and dashed out of the room to find Benjamin standing there, laughing at my shock. ‘For God's sake, Master, what are you doing?' I bellowed.

Benjamin patted me on the shoulder. 'Stay calm, Roger, I could have blown you up but I didn't. Here.' He walked back into the room. 'Help me push your bed away.'

We did so, heaving and pushing until the bed moved a few inches and I saw the slight scorch mark on the stone floor beneath. Benjamin pointed to it.

'I think that's how Cosmas was killed: his door was locked but, before he retired, I suspect someone spread a coat of oil between the mattress and the bed support and then inserted a small bag of gunpowder.' 'How did they light that?' 'Oh, with a slow fuse.'

'Oh, I see,' I replied. 'They just knocked on the door and asked Cosmas could they light a slow fuse under the bed?'

'No, no, what they did was attach a slow fuse to the gunpowder and left it coiled under the bed.' 'And?'

'When the poor man was asleep, someone came upstairs and began to pull the thread attached to the slow fuse which was left lying out on the gallery. The slow fuse uncoiled like a snake, the assassin pulling it slowly across the floor until the end appeared under the door. A tinder was struck, the fuse lit and Cosmas died.' 'But they couldn't do that! Cosmas would notice.'

'No, he wouldn't. No more than you did. You came into the chamber, you were not looking for an almost invisible line of thread running from your bed underneath the door. Even if, in the poor light, you did see it, you would dismiss it. All the assassin had to do was take the piece of thread as I did, pull it very slowly, which hardly makes a sound, and murder is only a few seconds away. Like you, Cosmas would not hear the fuse. It's meant to burn slowly but very quietly. The only difference with you is that I used two grains of gunpowder and no oil. In Cosmas's case it was different.'

'But we saw nothing. Surely, as the slow fuse burns, it would burn the floor beneath?'

'No, it splutters not burns. And remember, Roger, the thread had been removed, the fuse destroys itself, and people coming in and out of the room, once the bed was on fire, would scarcely think it suspicious even if they saw the odd burn mark on the floor.' 'So how did you discover this?'

'What really intrigued me was the scorch mark on the outside of the door facing the gallery, as well as the damage done to the heavy bedstead. A brilliant piece of murder, Roger. The assassin did not have to enter the room and, in killing Cosmas, destroyed all the evidence except for that small scorch mark on the other side of the door.' 'The murderer could have destroyed the whole house.'

'No, as you noticed before, the floors in all our chambers are stone and there was no combustible material anywhere near. The bed would burn, its occupant die, but the fire would be discovered in time and the flames doused.' 'Why didn't Cosmas just get out of the bed?'

'Ah, now, that did intrigue me until I remembered the gunpowder. There was probably sufficient to injure him badly. Do you remember the corpse? The bottom half of his legs had disappeared completely. The gunpowder either killed the poor man or caused such grievous wounds as to send him into a swoon from which he would never recover. Meanwhile, the oil was ignited. The bed is old wood and would burn as quickly as stubble in the driest summer.'

I stared down at my own bed and accepted Benjamin's conclusions. The fuse would destroy itself, the gunpowder explode, poor Cosmas's legs would be shattered, and even if he wanted to, the fire spread so quickly as to prevent his escape.

'Well,' Benjamin looked round the room, 'all is safe here, eh? No fire, no flames. Now let us go to the church, and I shall show you how Damien died.'

We left the manor and went down to that silent tomb of a church. Benjamin pushed me in, locking the door behind us, and lit two sconce torches. The pitch spluttered and flared into life, making the place more eerie with dancing shadows.

'Now,' Benjamin murmured, 'let's assume I am the assassin. I have come into this chapel to commit murder. Cosmas's body is laid out and his poor brother will come in for the death vigil. Unfortunately, others arrive: Mandeville, Southgate and finally us. Eventually we leave and the murderer, hiding on those steps leading to the tower, is granted an additional advantage by Damien locking the door.' Benjamin walked over, past the baptismal font and stood looking down into the sanctuary.

'Now I have prepared everything well. The crossbow bolts and the arbalest have been hidden away. I have also lifted the catch, both on the outside and inside of one of the windows.' Benjamin, imitating the stance of an archer, pretended to fire a crossbow. 'Damien is killed. I make sure, then prepare to leave, but I want to make it appear that I entered and left the church like a ghost. This is how I do it.'

Benjamin walked into one of the small transepts and stopped beneath the window. He opened this and, from the darkness, picked up a long, narrow ladder, the type soldiers climb when scaling a castle wall, or a tiler might use when working on the roof of a house. Benjamin pushed this ladder through, then hoisted himself up and, with a great deal of huffing and puffing, disappeared down the ladder. I heard it scrape as it was lifted away and his voice sang out. 'So you see, Roger, this is how the murderer left.'

'Very good,' I called out. 'But how do you close the shutters, both from the inside and the outside?' 'Oh, very easily,' my master replied. 'Stand back!'

I did so. The shutters slammed shut and I even heard the catch fall. I ran out. Benjamin was standing a few yards away from the church, the ladder still in his hand. It was apparent that he had used it both to slam the shutters and so knock the simple latch back into place. I walked over to him. He stood, as pleased as a school boy, grinning and clapping his hands.

'You see, Roger, I used the ladder to get out of the church. I leave no footprints under the window and use the same ladder to shut the window and force the catch back.' He blew on his cold fingers. 'I could have opened the outside latch in the same way.' 'But what about the one inside?'