The Medieval Murderers - Hill of Bones

Orford was crouched over the crate.

‘What are you doing? Leave that crate alone.’

He went to grab Orford’s shoulder, but suddenly the ground collapsed beneath his feet, and he fell into a pit. He scrabbled at the sides of the hole, but the soil was loose and poured in over him. He fell back, and felt something hard hit his cheek. He turned his head, and gazed into a leathery face with staring blank orbs in the sockets and a gaping mouth of rotten teeth. He screamed.

‘Doll, help me.’

His saviour’s face appeared overhead, her full lips pulled back in a wide grin.

‘Ozymandias! There you are.’

Malinferno realised she was talking about his partner in the grave. It was the mummy that had previously occupied the crate where Sacchi now lay. But how had it got in the ground? A red-faced Orford appeared, holding out his hand to help Malinferno free of the pit.

‘I think I had better explain.’

He heaved Malinferno back to terra firma, and pointed out the gaping hole into which the heavy bed belonging to the duchess was already slipping.

‘I was excavating the land right here on the basis of an old map I had drawn up by someone obsessed with King Arthur.’

Malinferno thought of the parchment he had in his pocket, guessing that Orford also had a copy of the Hawkins map. He said nothing though at this stage. He looked at Doll, who winked at him.

‘Go on.’

Orford rubbed his soil-covered hands together. ‘It had several crosses on it. I had tried some of the others over several months and found nothing. Then I started digging here. From the beginning, this trench looked promising – hobnails, and rusty blades. I was sure I would find bones, and maybe even gold ornaments. And I was right. Then the duchess said she had plans for a grand event on the hill to which the gentry would be invited. It would be the social event of the year. I tried to dissuade her, but she was adamant. I had to erect a virtual military encampment on the hill top, as you saw when you arrived.’

‘But what was your problem? You could leave your trench covered and wait until afterwards. Then begin again.’

Orford grimaced. ‘Partly it was impatience. I felt I was so close to a great find, and to have it trampled over by lords and ladies was intolerable. And I had been observing the barometer as part of my management of the estate. The weather was due to change, and storms were forecast. Heavy rain would have been disastrous for my excavation. The only thing I could think to do was to site the duchess’s tent right over the trench, which I had covered with planks.’ He looked at the hole. ‘Rotten planks, it would appear.’

Doll wanted to ask a question. ‘But that would still not allow you access until after the site had been cleared. And the rain had started.’

As if on cue, they heard the first pitter-patter of light rain on the roof of the tent.

Orford groaned. ‘It is too late already. But if my plan had worked, I could have removed much of what I had already found during the night. You see, the duchess is devoted to the delights of laudanum. She sleeps like a log, and even my exertions beneath her bed would not have disturbed her.’

Doll immediately understood his dilemma. ‘But then one of the special guests – Mrs Vaughan – took over the tent.’

‘Yes.’ Orford frowned. ‘I would never have imagined the duchess giving up her comforts for anyone but royalty. So I was surprised by this old trollop taking her bed. Who is she?’

He looked quizzically at Doll, but it was Malinferno who answered.

‘Shall we say, someone very close to the King.’

Orford nodded, thinking he understood the implications of Malinferno’s comment. The whole of England knew of the former Prince Regent’s fondness for women.

‘I see. Well, I tried to sneak in the tent several times. But that Italian was posted outside like a sentry. And there were such comings and goings, I can tell you. I debated bribing the fellow like some others seemed to do to gain access, but it was essential that I was not seen. I took a turn round the camp, thinking of what I could do. But when I came back, I saw my chance.’

Malinferno tensed, ready to spring at the tall man. If this was to be a confession, then who knows what the outcome would be for Doll and himself?

‘You resolved to kill the sentry in order to carry out your plans.’

Orford’s face went a delicate shade of green, as above their heads the rain got heavier.

‘Good Lord, no! You can’t think that of me, can you?’

Malinferno thought only of the murderous stance of Orford behind Doll as she peered into the other excavation. And the conveniently falling tent pole close to his head. But Orford did now look truly shocked, holding his hand over his mouth as though he could hardly prevent himself from being sick. He looked at Malinferno with a tear in his eye.

‘I am in a hole. I see that now.’

Malinferno grabbed his arm, and shook the man. ‘Tell me.’

Orford took a deep breath, steadying himself.

‘I have done a very foolish thing…’

Doll and Malinferno were standing in front of Queen Caroline, who was now dressed in the most modest of silk gowns. Her own fair hair was just visible underneath a dark red turban that complemented her dress. This most becoming of decorous ensembles was only slightly spoiled by the surroundings. She was sitting not on a throne, but the edge of the duchess’s bed, which was tilted at the precarious angle it had adopted when sliding into Daniel Orford’s excavation. The central area of the tent was occupied by the crate that had transported the mummy to Solsbury Hill the previous evening. Most of the site had now been cleared, though persistent drizzle had hampered affairs. Inside the duchess’s tent, those present heard another gust of rain sweep across hill, giving the place a gloomy, depressing atmosphere. With the tents gone and the clouds low, Solsbury Hill was bare and open to the worst of the elements.

The Queen, however, was happy, and her short, plump legs swung free of the grassy sward below them. She scanned the others in the tent.

‘I am glad I could persuade you all to remain a little while longer. There is a matter needs settling, and each of you can help. Professor Malinferno, will you proceed?’

‘Thank you, Mrs Vaughan. We are here, as you know, to plumb the depths of the disappearance of your equerry, Signor Sacchi.’

Though everyone present knew exactly who the portly German woman was who occupied the duchess’s bed, the secrecy of her identity was to be preserved. As was the fact that Sacchi was dead – a fact known only to Mrs Vaughan, Malinferno, Doll Pocket, Lieutenant Houghton. And the murderer. Malinferno turned to scan the faces of those present. He prayed he had got the interpretation of the previous night’s events correct. Orford’s confession had provided him with the final clue to the identity of Sacchi’s murderer. Now, he just had to extract the truth from the murderer’s own lips. He looked first at the sweating, red face of the Honourable Member for Plympton Erle – with an electorate of thirty.

‘Sir Ralph, you spoke to Sacchi when you came to the… shall we call it the duchess’s tent.’

‘I did indeed, sir. And he taxed me for money in order to see the… lady over there.’ He indicated the smiling Queen, and returned her smile obsequiously. ‘I told you that the Italian was still at his post when I left last night. He was not present when I came back this morning. I can tell you no more.’

Malinferno nodded sagaciously, though he did not feel all that confident of his next step.

‘Yes. Mr Houghton…’ He indicated the pasty-faced naval lieutenant hovering near the tent flap. ‘… confirms he saw you arrive. As I believe did Mr Powell, who also saw you leave. Did you not, sir?’