Paul Doherty: The Grail Murders

Benjamin shrugged. 'Do so and dear Uncle will simply laugh and put it down to my youthful impetuosity. I only say what thousands think.'

Mandeville glared down the table at Rachel who sat, hands joined, like some novice at prayer. She seemed fascinated by Benjamin as if he was telling some mysterious tale on a cold winter's night and she was a spectator, not a party to it.

'I cannot believe,' Mandeville jibed, 'that this girl garrotted two experienced agents, Calcraft and Warnham.'

'Oh come, Sir Edmund,' Benjamin replied. 'I have heard how in Spain there are beggar children so skilled with the garrotte they can kill a fully grown man in a matter of seconds. It would have been simple for Rachel.' Benjamin spread his hands. 'Calcraft, and on another occasion Warnham, were invited down to a meeting in some tavern by the riverside where Mistress Rachel was waiting to talk to them. After her coy glances and generous cups of wine, they were lured out into the dark so Rachel might speak where no spy could overhear. Perhaps they sat down. Mistress Rachel would find it so easy; a desolate spot, the garrotte cord in her hands, men in their cups. Just a few seconds, Sir Edmund, and the cord slips round their throat; fuddled in their wits they would struggle but only briefly before lapsing into unconsciousness. If the garrotte cord did not kill, the cold water of the Thames would. Then Rachel would flit back along the alleyways to Richmond Palace.'

'You have proof of that?' Sir John blustered, though his eyes betrayed him.

'Yes and no.' Benjamin replied. 'Except I was intrigued why a scarlet cord should be used. So, before I left London, I took it to one of the maids at Richmond Palace, and do you know what she said?' Santerre shook his head.

'That it is a sort of material women might buy to serve as piping on their dresses, gowns or cloaks. At the time I dismissed this but later it was a piece which fitted the puzzle.'

Rachel, her lower Up caught between her teeth, shook her head disbelievingly. I felt a chill of fear at her complete imperviousness to what my master was saying.

'Hopkins's sister,' I intervened, 'was also a victim of the garrotte. Rachel, you see, overheard us as we left the hall in Richmond Palace. She subtly covered this up by appearing to be concerned about what dangers might face us here at Templecombe.' 'Why should she kill Hopkins's sister?' Mandeville asked.

'Because,' I replied, 'there was always a danger that Hopkins, who confided in so few people, may have said something to his sister which could have threatened her. And it was so easy.' I spread my hands. 'Rachel slipped out of Richmond Palace and went hot foot to the house of Hopkins's sister who would, of course, admit her as a friend, the daughter of the lord whom her dead brother had served. Rachel would reassure her, they even shared a goblet of wine, before Rachel slipped the garrotte round her throat. The old woman died, Rachel searched the house for anything which might incriminate her, and then disappeared.'

'That poor old woman was murdered,' Benjamin declared, 'not because she had said or done anything wrong but simply because of what she might know. We tell the truth, I believe, Rachel?' The girl stared back silently.

'Once we left London,' Benjamin continued, 'the real dance began, didn't it, Roger?'

'Oh, yes,' I replied. 'When we stopped at Glastonbury, Mistress Rachel sent a message, God knows how, to that old witch who was waiting for us with her prophecies. Look, it stands to reason,' I continued. 'No man, or woman could read the future so clearly. Even before we reached Templecombe our deaths were planned. The old hag was really a mummer mouthing lines taught to her and, once her part was played, she too had to die. An easy feat. There must be secret passageways and entrances out of Templecombe. Mistress Rachel used these, first to silence the witch; secondly, to cut off her hands and head in order to frighten us on our return to Glastonbury.' 'And the deaths of Cosmas and Damien?' Mandeville asked.

Benjamin gave a pithy description of how both men had died.

'Cosmas was the easiest,' he concluded. 'On our first evening here, after you had all retired, Rachel allegedly left the hall to collect a manuscript. I am sure she went up to the poor man's room, picked up the thread lying there, pulled out the slow fuse, lit it with a tinder and then came back down here.'

'Was she so certain Shallot would be roused?' Mandeville asked.

'Oh, if Roger hadn't woken, she always had me. After she returned, she could feign sleep and say she wanted to retire. I would go to my chamber on the same gallery as poor Cosmas and, of course, notice something was wrong.

'However,' Benjamin stared at Rachel, his face betraying his hurt at being used by her, 'only after examining the Templar chapel following Damien's death did I really begin to suspect Mistress Rachel. You see, in the chapel, near one of the windows, I noticed bits of wood from a ladder which had been left there. Only a member of the Santerre household would have access to such a ladder.

'Secondly, when I simulated what she had done, I found the window was rather narrow. Even I, slender as I am, found it difficult to squeeze through.' He paused. 'So it had to be someone young and supple and only Rachel fitted that description.

'Finally, there was something else. Did you notice, Sir Edmund, when we were trying to force the door of the church, how Rachel and her mother hurried along shouting for Damien through the window? At the time I thought it was strange but, on reflection, Rachel was simply checking that no trace of her departure from the church remained. Once we were inside, she was also most assiduous in accompanying us as we searched for any secret entrance or passageway. I recall her being near one of the windows. I am sure it was then she either brought the latch down or, if it had already fallen, made sure it was in place.'

'But the snow?' Mandeville interrupted. 'You said someone who had been travelling through snow stood at the back of the church.'

'No, that was just a clever ploy to tangle matters even further. Rachel could have brought the snow in and let it melt so as to distract attention from herself. She had ostensibly stayed in the manor house all day.'

Benjamin paused and we all stared at the young woman now sitting back in her chair looking up at the rafters, tapping the table top and humming a tune to herself. She was one of the most curious assassins I had ever met. Benjamin had levelled the most serious allegations against her, yet never once had she protested, objected or interrupted. Even my master seemed unnerved by her cool demeanour.

'Daughter,' Sir John grated, 'have you anything to say against this?'

'I am not your daughter,' she replied flatly. She then sat up straight and stared at my master. 'Where's your proof that I lit the slow fuse? Where is your proof that I garrotted two men, not to mention an old woman, in London? Where is the proof that I lurked in a church and killed Mandeville's servant with a crossbow bolt? Or that I killed and mutilated a half-mad witch?'

Benjamin pulled a face. 'Aye, Mistress, you are correct. Other people could have bought the scarlet cord. Other people could have committed these terrible crimes. But, think carefully. Someone at Templecombe knew where to get gunpowder, oil and a slow fuse. Someone at Templecombe knew where to hide both herself and a scaling ladder in the church, as well as how to use that poor hag; first to deliver messages and then, as a warning to the rest of us, as a victim.'

The same is true of Bowyer and Southgate,' I interrupted. Their horses were fed a meal of oats and bran to make them more fiery. Who else but someone at Templecombe could manage that? And then you changed their stirrups and tainted their spurs with mercury?'