The Medieval Murderers - The Deadliest Sin

Mistress Giffard frowned and looked to Jordan fitz Hamon for support. ‘But the best doctor in this part of England examined him only yesterday, coroner – Brother Xavier from Keynsham Abbey. Is it necessary to further disturb my poor husband?’

‘Intolerable interference, fitz Urse!’ brayed Jordan. ‘I shall complain to the sheriff about this unwelcome intrusion into a lady’s grief.’

Ralph briefly acknowledged Jordan’s existence with a curt nod.

‘It was the sheriff who insisted that we leave no stone unturned to find the perpetrator who has deprived this good lady of her husband!’ he growled. Then he turned back to Eleanor. ‘I presume that Robert’s body is still in the house, madam?’

She nodded wordlessly, holding a scrap of lace kerchief to her eyes, though William could see no sign of tears. ‘Edward will show you, if it is really necessary.’

The coroner nodded and had one last remark. ‘I have ordered the other three physicians to contribute their knowledge to the solving of this heinous crime – they will be here directly to assist me.’

Eleanor’s doubtful sorrow cleared up instantly. ‘What, those awful people from the town? They’ve already been pestering me today, trying to steal patients from us!’

William noted that she said ‘us’ rather than ‘me’, and wondered again what status Edward Stogursey had in this household.

‘Well, they’ll be here again shortly, though I’ll see that they do not bother you this time. But my officer here will be bothering all your servants to see what they know.’

With a perfunctory bow, the boorish coroner took his leave and as William Hangfield followed him, he saw Edward make a covert sign to Evelyn to enter her mistress’s chamber, presumably as a belated chaperone. The presence of Jordan fitz Hamon alone with her in the widow’s solar had not been lost on the coroner, for as they clumped along the upper corridor after Stogursey, he muttered to William, ‘What’s that dandy doing in her boudoir, eh?’

His officer had no answer to that and, in a moment, the sullen servant showed them into a small room that appeared to be a spare bedchamber. On a mattress lying on a low plinth was a sheeted body with two lit candles at the head end.

‘Did he die in here?’ demanded fitz Urse.

Stogursey shook his head. ‘He passed away in the main bedchamber, sir. But in this hot weather, we felt it better to remove him to this cooler room,’ he added meaningfully.

‘Let’s have a look at him, then,’ ordered the coroner.

William pulled back the linen sheet to the corpse’s waist, revealing the pallid features of Robert Giffard. He was dressed in a thin night shift, with his hands crossed over his breast. The face was peaceful and showed no signs of any obvious disease or injury.

‘Do you want to see the rest of him?’ asked William.

Fitz Urse shook his head. ‘May as well leave that for those medical fellows from town, so you can stay for that. All I needed to know was that he really was dead and to see the corpse, so that I can hold my inquest tomorrow.’

He turned to Stogursey, who had been lurking behind them, disapproval written large on his face.

‘I will hold my enquiry at the second hour after noon tomorrow, in the Shire Hall at the castle. See to it that every member of this household, from your mistress to the boot-boy, is present. I will send for the body around noon, as it must be before me during the proceedings.’

The servant-cum-physician looked shocked. ‘That is almost impossible, coroner! There are patients to see and a household to run, to say nothing of the strain upon my poor mistress!’

Fitz Urse was unmoved; he had heard it all many times before. ‘You will do as I say or you will all be amerced with heavy fines.’ As if sweetening his threats, he added, ‘You may make arrangements for the disposal of the body after the inquest.’

After the abrasive official had left, William got Edward to round up the servants one by one for him to interrogate them. He did this in the lean-to shelter used as the patients’ waiting-room. It was a quick and largely fruitless exercise, so he needed to take no formal statements, as no one knew anything of any value.

Edward had already explained what he knew of the illnesses of his master and neither the cook, housekeeper, lady’s maid, kitchen skivvy nor the outside servants had any knowledge that could throw light on the death. Even little Henry, the boot-boy and general dogsbody, who seemed to pick up more gossip than any of the others, had nothing to offer him.

Just as he had finished with the servants, the three physicians arrived, looking anxious and guilty, half-afraid that they were to be accused of something by the officers of the law. William knew them all by sight and had actually consulted Erasmus Crote some months earlier, when his small son had developed a skin rash, which had cleared up after applying some foul-smelling lotion provided by Erasmus.

He quickly set their minds at ease by explaining that the coroner wanted a further medical opinion upon the cause of Robert Giffard’s death, even though Xavier, the eminent infirmarian from Keynsham, had admitted being baffled by the death. Relieved, the three men immediately started arguing as to who should go first, but William firmly quashed this by telling them to examine the body together – and that this was a duty demanded by the King’s coroner, so there would be no fee.

He marshalled them up to the room where the cadaver lay, with Stogursey hovering in the rear, wearing his usual disapproving scowl. This time, he removed the sheet completely to allow them to view the whole body.

With much muttering and prodding, they examined the entire body surface, the intimate orifices and squinted into the mouth, ears and eyes, before allowing William to cover up the body once more.

‘Can you tell us exactly what was the progress of this affliction?’ asked the pompous Humphrey de Cockville.

The coroner’s officer explained the sequence of events, the attack of biliousness of the skin and eyes some months earlier and how it had cleared up as soon as Giffard went to London, then the recent attacks of malaise, tremors, palpitations and collapse, which ended in his death that very morning.

‘And it is said that there was no way in which poisoned food could have been taken in the recent past?’ asked de Cockville.

William shook his head. ‘Mistress Giffard and all the servants swear that recently, since he was taken ill again, every morsel and every glass has been checked. In the past few weeks, both Edward Stogursey and indeed, the wife herself, have tasted every item of food given to the deceased.’

The only comment was from William Blundus. ‘That’s all very well, but what if one of those who was responsible for the cooking and tasting, was the murderer?’

‘Don’t be a fool, Blundus!’ snapped Humphrey. ‘The lady of the house, his own wife, was one who put herself at risk by sampling everything he ate. And is it likely that she would kill her rich husband, the source of her comfortable life?’

‘Her father was far richer, remember,’ grumbled Blundus, but he was ignored. William was anxious to complete his tasks, then hurry back to the castle and eventually, to his home. ‘You three have now had an opportunity to examine him – and I’ve told you all we know about the circumstances. So have you any suggestions as to what the poison might be – and how it was administered?’

Again they went into a huddle, muttering amongst themselves, and eventually Humphrey de Cockville appointed himself spokesman, not that he had much to offer.

‘There are so many poisons to be extracted from the plants and herbs of the countryside that it’s impossible to be sure what it might be. It was certainly not deadly nightshade or any of the potent mushrooms. It could have been wolfsbane or foxglove, or perhaps extract of yew wood, which would fit with the symptoms, but there’s no way of knowing.