The Medieval Murderers - House of Shadows

‘Hard to believe that someone could send a young impressionable ward to a place like this,’ Baldwin commented.

‘What happens to those who see the ghost?’ Simon asked.

‘They die, so the rumour says.’

‘Well, neither of these two were taken away, and I do not believe that the devil would be overly concerned about the sudden arrival of a witness. Nor do I think he’d have set out young Pilgrim in so considerate a manner,’ Baldwin said caustically. ‘Personally I would be easier in my mind believing that there has been an entirely human agent at work here.’

‘We all have our own beliefs, Sir Baldwin. Perhaps yours are more secular than mine.’

‘Perhaps,’ Baldwin conceded. ‘Tell me, brother, where should we seek the woman who found the first body?’

‘That was Elena. She will be out there on the shore. She seeks what she can from the Thames at low tide. There is often something discarded in the waters which she can make use of or sell.’

Elena cursed as she missed it, dragging the thin rope back through the waters and coiling it in a rough bundle beside her.

The plank looked hardly rotted at all. From the way it floated it was probably nicely dried, hardly green, and would have been worth having. Still, on it went with the river. Her rope with the weight had been too weak to haul it in to the beach. The cord had snapped, the weight falling into the water while the beam floated on serenely. She looked down at the remaining rope with disgust, half-tempted to fling that into the water as well.

‘Mistress?’

‘Who are you?’ she demanded querulously. The sun was hidden behind clouds, but it was still bright enough for her to want to shield her eyes with a hand as she studied the two men walking towards her. ‘You were in the crowds at the inquest, weren’t you?’

‘We were, madam,’ Baldwin said. ‘We wanted to talk to you for a moment about what you saw that day when you found them.’

‘I saw their bodies, that was all.’

‘Was there anyone else out here on that day?’

‘It was wet. There was no one out who had any sense.’

‘You were.’

‘I had to get to the market.’

‘Were the bodies wet through? If it had been raining, did you notice whether they had been there for long or not?’

‘I am no constable. I walk about here to try to earn what I can from what I find. There were two bodies there, but I didn’t know about looking for how wet they were. No, I just found young Juliet, and seeing her there, that was sad.’

‘You knew her?’

‘A little. A pretty little thing she was, and so happy when she was out here.’

‘What was she doing out here?’ Simon asked, gazing about him with frank distaste. At least on Dartmoor there were some areas of dry pasture. Here all seemed waterlogged.

‘Waiting to see her man. I had often seen her. Sometimes she was alone, with only her maid, but often she was with her man. Mostly it’s been just the younger William in the last weeks,’ Elena said helpfully.

‘Perhaps she wanted company because of the stories of a ghost, eh, Simon?’

Elena scowled. ‘Don’t jest about the ghost. Us who live here know to fear that figure.’

‘You know someone who’s seen it?’ Simon asked.

‘I have seen it myself. It’s a sign of bad omen.’

‘What happened to you after you saw the figure?’ Baldwin asked lightly. ‘A corn on your foot? Or you found that you were growing wet while walking across this marsh?’

She looked at him with a chilly certainty. ‘The first time I saw the figure, my husband Thomas died. Last time, next morning I found poor Juliet’s body.’

Brother Lawrence watched them go to seek Elena with a sense of growing unease and anxiety.

It had seemed such a sensible idea at the time. When he and the prior had concocted their scheme, the idea of driving others away from the river had been essential. They didn’t want Roger Mortimer escaping from the Tower only to be arrested as soon as he set foot on the Surrey side.

Lawrence had first mooted the idea of the ghost. All knew of the ghost. Those in the priory mentioned it in undertones and used the story to scare the novices when they could, but the locals had heard of it, too, and people like Elena believed in it. What better way could there be to keep unwanted eyes from the shore than by having a fearsome ghost wandering the place?

It had gone so well, too. Terrible, of course, that Elena’s old man had seen them. Lawrence saw him, saw his gaping, stupid face, and raised his arms to loom over the fellow, and he had turned to flee, bolting over the flats like a rabbit from a hound. Next morning the fool was dead. A great shame, but Lawrence did not feel over-guilty. There were other considerations, and rescuing Mortimer was crucial. The country had to have him safe so that the muttered plans to remove this intolerable king could be put into action.

He saw John and began to make his way to the lad.

All would have been well, too, had not that woman seen him. Juliet. He hadn’t realized at the time, but she had witnessed him and the men from the boat. Clearly, seeing the men pile from the boat while the ‘ghost’ held it steady for them made her understand that his costume was only a ruse. And equally, seeing where the boat landed, so close to the priory’s kiddles, the salmon traps set out along the line of the river banks, made her understand that a man from the priory was probably responsible. So the officers came and took the representative of all power in the priory – the prior himself.

Lawrence could blame himself, of course, but that wouldn’t have Prior Walter released. He was incarcerated in the same Tower from which they had rescued Mortimer. This new fool John de Cusance, Prior John, was installed, and there was little Lawrence could do about it.

Vengeance against those who had reported his and the prior’s actions? That was not a pretty act. But he knew many would consider it justified. Reasonable, even.

So now an escape was needed. He had to find a way out – perhaps a boat?

Her conviction was enough to wipe the cynical amusement from Baldwin’s voice. He apologized, eyeing her more closely than before, wondering whether she had reliable evidence. All too often he had found that those who claimed to have seen ghosts were in fact drunk at the time.

‘Madam, I had not seen that such a figure could have so unfortunate a result. Tell me, that I should know this figure of evil, what does it look like? Is it clad in, say, the robes of a Cluniac monk?’

‘You think I’m stupid enough to mistake the devil for one of the priory’s men?’ she scoffed. ‘This man was tall, maybe a foot or more over your height, Sir Knight, and he wore a long cloak with a separate cowl and hood. I don’t know the colour, because it was nighttime, but I could see the cloak because it moved so strongly in the wind.’

‘You saw no face?’

‘I did not want to!’ she stated firmly.

‘It could not have been this unfortunate fellow, Pilgrim de Monte Acuto?’ he hazarded, although he knew the answer before she spoke. The body had worn neither cloak nor cowl and hood.

‘Pilgrim? I’ve seen him and his father up here often enough, I think I’d recognize them!’

‘They are often up here on the marshes, you mean?’ Simon said.

‘Very often. The girl was a strong lure.’

Baldwin was struck by her comment. ‘For Pilgrim, you mean?’

Elena was suddenly dumb.

‘My God! You mean that the father wanted her too?’ he cried, and turned away, slapping at his brow. ‘Christ Jesus! Simon, the one aspect I could not accept was that William would murder his son for no reason. Yet here we have a reason: the father was a competitor with his son for this girl’s affections. The two men discussed her, argued, and the father slew his son in a fit of rage.’