Iris Collier - Day of Wrath

‘And meanwhile, Prior,’ said Sheriff Landstock, ‘let none of your monks leave these premises. Shut the gate. Assemble all the brethren in the chapter house and let none of them leave until I say so. My men will guard them and I shall put a guard over Agnes Myles’s room.’

‘Oh what a dreadful thing, what a scandal,’ said the Prior as he led the way over to his house. ‘What sacrilege – and the King’s Commissioners here too. What will they think of us?’

‘And Katharine’s family, Prior, think of them,’ said Nicholas.

‘Oh I am, I am, Lord Nicholas,’ said the Prior. ‘It’s a terrible tragedy for them. But why, oh why, should anyone want to murder a little girl in such a diabolical way?’

As they walked over to the Prior’s house, the great bell of the Priory tolled out, bringing the monks down from their dormitory and into the chapter house. The crowd slowly dispersed. Two men stood guard over Agnes Myles.

‘This is no place for a woman, Mistress Warrener,’ said the Prior, once they were up in his study. ‘I must ask you to leave.’

There were five of them present: the Prior, Nicholas, the Sheriff and his secretary, and Jane. ‘I have to be here, Prior,’ she said firmly, ‘Don’t you see I’m involved in all of this? Someone, maybe the same person who killed Katharine, tried to kill me. I have been in Lord Nicholas’s confidence since his steward was murdered and I have been talking to Agnes Myles, our key witness, who will, I’m sure, lead us to the murderer.’

‘It’s still not suitable…’ said the Prior, glaring at Jane as if the presence of a woman was the most important part of the proceedings.

‘Oh let her be, Prior,’ said Landstock, ‘she’s here, she has a right to be here, she can stay as far as I’m concerned.’

‘And I insist she stays here,’ said Nicholas. ‘She’s been a valuable assistant to me over the last weeks, and she knows as much as the Sheriff and I do.’

‘Oh very well, let her be. But tell me, Peverell, why, in heaven’s name do you still protect the old witch? Just look at her – there she is, locked away on my premises, muttering to herself, hatching up all sorts of wickedness.’

‘Prior, I didn’t think you, of all people, would succumb to popular prejudice. Sit down, and try to think rationally, or else another monstrous injustice is going to be enacted on your premises. The person who killed Katharine Hammond knows his way round churches. He knows where the communion wafers are kept. He also knows that putting the wafers on Katharine’s eyes would seem like an act of witchcraft – I’m sure you know about the rituals used in the black arts – and all eyes would turn to Agnes Myles. And he’s succeeded, hasn’t he, Prior? He wants Agnes Myles out of the way. And why does he take so much trouble over an old woman? Because he knows that she knows who he is; and one day she’ll give us his name. Jane visits Agnes. Jane knows that one day the old lady’ll recover her wits. This is why Agnes must be protected. So don’t play into the murderer’s hands, Prior. Let the Sheriff and I tackle this in the time-honoured way. Now who do you think is our prime suspect, Sheriff?’

‘Whoever has access to the communion wafers, Lord Nicholas,’ said the Sheriff.

‘And that means Father Hubert,’ said the Prior aghast.

‘Anyone else?’

‘Only me; I have the master key.’

‘What about the Vicar?’ said the Sheriff. ‘He uses communion wafers to celebrate the Mass.’

‘Yes, and he gets them from us. Mind you, we do give him several at a time, and presumably he keeps them in his sacristy.’

‘So Hobbes could have murdered the child?’ said the Prior, happy to grasp at any straw.

‘He could, but what’s his motive? He grumbles about Agnes Myles, but has never once wanted to put her to death, and I can’t see him going to elaborate lengths to incriminate her. Where is he now, by the way?’ said the Sheriff.

‘He went off with Katharine’s parents. He’ll probably stay with them for the rest of the night,’ said Jane.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Brother Benedict came in, his face tired and anxious.

‘What is it, Brother Benedict?’ said the Prior, jumping to his feet. ‘You look worried to death.’

‘There’s something I have to tell you, Prior. Early on Saturday morning, after Matins, I saw Father Hubert get up and go down to the sacristy. Thinking he might be unwell, I followed him. He went in to the sacristy, and returned carrying something hidden under a cloth. He then went out into the cloisters by the north door. Not thinking too much about it, I returned to bed and slept until Prime. But now I think it could be important.’

‘It’s very important,’ said the Prior gravely. ‘It seems you might be right, my Lord,’ he said turning to Nicholas, ‘that one of my community could just possibly have murdered the child. And Father Hubert, of all people! What unspeakable wickedness!’

‘Don’t jump to conclusions too quickly,’ said Nicholas. ‘Father Hubert might have been doing something quite harmless for all we know.’

‘Harmless? Then why sculk around in the dead of night?’ roared the Prior.

‘Agnes also told me that Father Hubert came to her for a tincture of foxglove. He uses it to stimulate the hearts of elderly patients. Used with care it is a life-saver. Too much, it can kill,’ said Jane quietly. ‘It could’ve been added to Bess Knowles’s potion – she was a witness too, remember? – and it would have killed her without leaving any traces.’

‘And Brother Wilfrid was going to tell me the name of the person who added something to Bess’s drink,’ said Nicholas with growing excitement, ‘But, unfortunately, he died before he could give me that name. But he did say, “the old one”. It could’ve been Father Hubert.’

‘Then we must send for him at once. Have him brought here, Brother Benedict.’

‘And take one of my men to bring him here,’ said the Sheriff. ‘And don’t let him escape.’

Minutes later, Father Hubert was brought in. He looked frailer than ever with his pale face drawn with anxiety, the sprinkling of grey hair round his tonsure, and his bandaged wrists. Nicholas simply couldn’t see in this pathetic old man the cunning traitor who called himself Ultor. However, he certainly looked terrified, and when the Prior accused him of going down to the sacristy in the middle of the night, he began to shake with fear.

‘My Lord Prior,’ he said, in a voice so low that the Prior had to bend down to hear him, ‘yes, I did go to the sacristy after Matins.’

‘And what for?’ said the Prior looking at him in astonishment.

‘I wanted to get the chalice.’

‘The chalice? What unspeakable abomination were you going to commit with our holy chalice?’

‘No abomination, Prior, I only wanted to hide it.’

‘Worse and worse! Has the devil got into you too? That chalice belongs on the high altar of our church when we celebrate important feast days. What right do you think you’ve got to hide it?’

‘Because I didn’t want the inspectors to see it.’

‘And where have you put it?’

‘I’d rather not say; not until those two men have gone. You might make me give it to them.’

‘Enough of this,’ said the Sheriff roughly. ‘This sounds like a pack of lies to conceal the real reason for visiting the sacristy in the dead of night. You wanted to help yourself to some communion wafers, didn’t you, for your infernal murder of that innocent child?’

‘My Lord, have mercy, don’t let him say such things. Why should I want to harm a child?’

‘To throw the blame on Agnes Myles so that she’ll be put on trial for witchcraft; then she’ll denounce you, and that would put an end to your scheming.’