Devil's Acre Read online

  ‘Isn’t this is all a bit of a rush? He’s only just died.’

  ‘I’ve told you, I have to be back in Bury.’

  ‘Well then, let’s leave him here and someone else can do the committal.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s already been agreed. We’ll be taking him with us when we leave this morning. Now come along. The day is short and we’ve a long way to go.’ He started towards the door.

  Something wasn’t right here. The alarm bell was ringing wildly in my head by now.

  ‘I want to see the body.’

  Samson stopped and turned. ‘What?’

  ‘Before we go. I want to see the body.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I may be able to determine cause of death.’

  ‘I’ve already told you the cause of death. He was an old man.’

  ‘It’s not an unreasonable request. A doctor should always examine a body in a case of sudden death.’

  ‘It’s not sudden. He’s been ill for a while.’

  ‘I consider it my professional duty, as a physician.’

  ‘Your duty, as a monk, is to obey your abbot.’

  ‘Nevertheless I would feel happier if I knew how to answer if asked.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Asked by whom?’

  ‘I don’t know - the sheriff, the king’s coroner.’

  Samson thought for a minute. ‘Very well, you may examine the body. But don’t take too long over it. It is already mid-morning. With two extra mules -’

  ‘Two extra mules?’

  ‘Yes of course. I’m not completely insensitive. Jane will want to accompany the body. Or do you want to be the one to tell her she can’t?’

  It is curious the effect cold weather has on flesh. It slows down the corruption process. I myself have experimented with dead rats in the past leaving the corpses outside my laboratorium in the winter snow and comparing the results with others I kept inside by a fire. The ones left outside were comparatively fresh after a few days while those by the fire had already begun to putrefy. And the colder it is the longer they can be left - or so it seems.

  The preservation of earthly remains is always a problem when someone dies far from home. If it is high summer then the time available to move the body is short indeed. I have even known corpses explode unless the precaution is taken first to open up the gut. Placing the body in a vat of malmsey is one solution, but that’s costly. Then of course there is the smell. Nothing offends the human nostril more than the stench of rotting meat. Small wonder that the bodies of those who cannot be buried immediately are often boiled and the flesh removed. This is what happened to Bishop John de Gray of Norwich who died unexpectedly in France in the autumn of 1214. His family think his body is buried in Norwich Cathedral, but it is only his bones that were brought back to England. The rest of him lies in the village of Saint Jean d’Angély in Poitou.

  Ralf’s corpse when I went to look for it wasn’t lying outside in the snow but in the cellar beneath the kitchens - not the ideal place if one’s intension is preservation. It was being guarded by the ubiquitous and multi-talented Sister Benjamin. Today she wore a work smock over her habit and had her sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

  ‘Oh, this is a terrible how-di-do,’ she frowned ringing her hands together. ‘Most unfortunate.’

  ‘Yes indeed,’ I agreed. ‘Poor Father Ralf.’

  ‘To die just when the abbot is here. The timing could hardly be worse.’

  I looked at the woman wondering if she was being serious.

  ‘Not entirely unexpected, of course,’ she went on hastily. ‘He wasn’t at all well.’

  ‘So I keep being told. What exactly was wrong with him? I presume you prescribed in your capacity as dispenser?’

  She took the question with great seriousness and marshalled her thoughts carefully before answering.

  ‘He’d been having trouble with his breathing. He would purse his lips and pant thus - huff, huff, huff.’

  ‘Yes, he was doing the same on our walk back to the priesthouse last evening. How long had he been like that, do you know?’

  ‘He first came to me - oh, about a month ago I suppose. I prescribed Sal ammoniac inhalation, but I don’t think it did much good.’

  Indeed it would not. Sal ammoniac is an astringent that if anything would probably have made his breathing worse.

  ‘What gave you the idea to use Sal ammoniac?’

  Her frown deepened. ‘I can’t remember now. Something the abbot might have recommended.’

  ‘Abbot Samson recommended you use Sal Ammoniac?’

  ‘He might have done. I believe he did, yes.’

  ‘Does Abbot Samson often recommend medical remedies?’

  She smiled indulgently. ‘The abbot has the welfare of us all constantly in his eye. He advises a great many things. I always try to do as he suggests.’

  ‘Yes but…’ I bit my lip. ‘Did Ralf complain of anything else? Palpitations of the heart? Digestive problems?’

  ‘Not to me.’

  ‘I see. Well, thank you sister. I think I’d like to see the body now if I may.’

  Benjamin folded back the shroud carefully and neatly as far as the chest. Despite having his jaw bound shut I could see it was Ralf all right, his face at least, but not much else.

  ‘This is a fine piece of work,’ I said admiring the shroud. ‘Beautifully embroidered.’

  ‘Sister Angelina’s work again. You remember the flowers?’

  ‘Ah yes, the cornflowers. Wonderful.’ I felt the material between my fingertips and then began folding it back further.

  I immediately felt a restraining hand on my arm. ‘Brother, what are you doing?’

  ‘Removing the shroud, sister. Don’t worry, I won’t damage it.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry brother, that is out of the question.’

  ‘Sister I can’t examine him like this.’

  ‘Examine? No-one said anything to me about examine. View is what I was told.’

  ‘But I must inspect the body, sister.’

  ‘For what purpose?’

  ‘In order to look for any…’

  I very nearly said the word “evidence”

  ‘…signs. Please, I’ve no doubt you do an excellent job looking after the living, sister, but with all due respect you are not a doctor. You must allow me to do my job.’

  I knew before the words were out of my mouth that I had made a mistake. I could feel the barriers going up.

  ‘I may not have your medical training, brother, but I flatter myself I understand the fundamentals. A physician is concerned with the living, is he not? There is nothing more you can do for Ralf now. It would be sacrilege to allow you to continue for the sake of prurient curiosity.’

  ‘Prurient -?’ Now it was my turn to bristle. ‘Sister, my interest is more than mere curiosity. And I’m surprised you were not told I was coming before you trussed him up like a stuffed peacock.’

  When in a hole stop digging - isn’t that what they say? I had just excavated a crater. Benjamin drew herself up to her full height. She began rolling down her sleeves.

  ‘I’m sorry brother, there appears to have been some misunderstanding. You wanted time with the body, you have had it. I can’t help it if you are not able you do your job within the limitations available. Now it is time for the spirit. Good morning.’

  And with that I was shown the door.

  ‘That woman!’

  ‘Which woman?’ Samson chuckled. ‘Here we are surrounded by them.’

  ‘Benjamin.’ I growled the name through clenched teeth and then went on to recount my examination - or rather my non-examination - of Ralf’s body, much to Samson’s amusement.

  ‘I fear your famous charm with the ladies has failed you this time.’

  ‘She deliberately frustrated my efforts.’ I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘It wasn’t any of your doing was it?’

  ‘I assure you my only concern is to expedite matters with the minimum of fuss
.’

  ‘Grand words, father. But she did say you recommended an astringent for Ralf which I certainly would not have recommended.’

  ‘Namely?’

  ‘Sal ammoniac.’

  He shook his head. ‘It is true she does ask for my advice from time to time on all sorts of things - too many things as a matter of fact. I find agreeing with whatever she suggests tends to satisfy her. I certainly don’t remember this Sal - what was it again?’

  ‘Sal ammoniac.’

  ‘Well there you are. I don’t even know what it is.’

  I didn’t know whether to believe him or not. ‘I would still like to examine the body. You clearly have great influence with the nuns here. Could you not use it?’

  ‘Yes of course I could.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And if we had more time I would not hesitate to do so.’

  ‘Father!’

  He put up a defensive hand. ‘Walter, you’ve had your chance. I can’t help it if you fluffed it. The hour of terce has already passed. If we don’t leave now we shall be forced to remain another night.’

  ‘Can we not at least inform the sheriff of what we are doing?’

  He looked exasperated. ‘Don’t start that again. There is no need to get the sheriff involved.’

  ‘All the more reason why we should do things openly and correctly.’

  ‘Walter, listen to me. There are more important things than the death of this old priest. That letter from the king -’

  ‘The one that wasn’t urgent?’

  ‘Not urgent, no. But neither can I ignore it.’ He lowered his voice and placed his hand on my shoulder. ‘I tell you this in confidence. The king wishes me to leave for Normandy very shortly. If we delay because of this Ralf business I may not get there at all. That will not please King John. I would not wish to have to tell him what - or who - caused me to delay.’

  ‘In which case we should leave the body here. It will expedite matters all the more.’

  ‘I have already explained that to you. Mother Odell -’

  ‘Mother Odell will do whatever you ask of her.’

  Samson removed his hand from my shoulder. ‘Walter you overplay my affection for you. I am first and foremost your spiritual superior. I have indulged you in this matter enough. Now it is time for action. The mules are harnessed. The sun is moving across the heavens. Gather your things together and meet me in the courtyard. That is my final word.’ He started to leave.

  ‘Ralf wanted to tell me something last night.’

  He stopped. ‘Oh yes?’

  ‘But he died before he was able to.’

  ‘And you think this has a bearing on his death?’

  I wanted to say it did. I wanted to say that Samson knew more than he was telling me. Most of all I wanted him to satisfy me that he was entirely free of any complicity in Ralf’s death.

  ‘Just tell me father, why are we doing this? Why are travelling across Norfolk with the body of a dead priest?’

  ‘Pure convenience, my boy. We happen to be going in the same direction.’

  I only wished I could have believed him.

  When I emerged into the sunlight I found the leaving party saddled up ready and waiting. There were four mules. Samson was sitting astride one and Jane another.

  Jane was quite a sight to behold. She was wrapped up against the cold with only her face visible beneath a vast woollen shawl. She looked like one of those toys children have that bob back up when pushed over, nothing but a large round bottom and a pointed head. Mother Odell was standing nearby with her by now familiar triumvirate of Sisters Agnes, Monica-Jerome and of course the splendid Benjamin. We both avoided each other’s eye.

  Over the back of the third mule was slung the now fully trussed-up body of Ralf wrapped head to foot in Sister Angelina’s beautiful shroud and looking like a child’s stuffed doll. I couldn’t help wondering if Benjamin had deliberately bound him tight to spite me. The fourth mule stood empty and was presumably for me its rein being held in Sister Monica-Jerome’s hand.

  ‘You have the look of troubled peace about you, brother,’ Odell smiled to me as I approached.

  ‘More trouble than peace, mother, I fear.’

  ‘Our Lord must have felt a similar anguish hanging on the Cross, a serenity that he would soon be with the Father in Heaven only marred by his concerns for those remaining behind after he had gone. After all, he knew what future they would have to face.’

  ‘I can certainly sympathize with that,’ I said. ‘Except that I do not know what my immediate future holds. Apparently that is not in my hands.’ I looked purposefully at Samson.

  Monica-Jerome now stepped forward and handed me the rein of my mule.

  ‘This is for you, brother,’ she blushed holding out a satchel of food. ‘I’ve put an extra apple in for you,’ she whispered and smiled revealing her buck teeth.

  ‘Thank you sister. You are one person I will remember with affection and gratitude.’

  Monica-Jerome blushed a bright crimson.

  ‘Are we ready to go?’ asked Samson impatiently.

  Odell took my hands in hers. ‘Bless you Brother Walter for what you are doing.’

  I was startled by her words. As far as I knew I hadn’t done anything. ‘It is I who should thank you, Mother Prioress, for you hospitality and your kindness.’

  She smiled. ‘I hope you will be able to come and see us again in happier times.’

  Happier times?

  ‘Come along, Walter,’ said Samson.

  I climbed on to my mule thanking Monica-Jerome for holding his head as I did so. And then something extraordinary happened. Despite the mud and the snow Mother Odell dropped to both knees before Samson and kissed the hem of his robe.

  ‘God bless you father abbot.’

  He leaned over his mule’s head and placed his hand on the prioress’s head in blessing.

  At last we were off, Samson first followed by me leading the mule with Ralf’s body and finally Jane bringing up the rear. Behind us came the sound of fluting voices from the nuns. I look back but the sun was in my eyes casting the nuns into silhouette. But I didn’t need to see to imagine the scene: the four of them, hands clasped as if in prayer, singing the Gloria. A few moments later we were out through the gate and turning towards the town centre and the beginning of the next stage of our journey the end of which I knew not.

  Chapter 7

  IN THEODFORDA

  ‘Beware the wiles of women!’

  ‘What’s that master?’

  ‘Women, Gilbert. They are the cause of every man’s downfall - indeed, the downfall of all Mankind. It was Eve, remember, who tempted Adam with the apple - a euphemism for sex of course.’

  ‘Sex is not a subject I think on very often, master.’

  ‘Don’t be absurd. Every man thinks about sex. It’s what he does about it that makes the difference.’

  ‘I assure you master I have quite enough to occupy my thoughts taking care of you and the other monks in this place. Now, lift up if you please while I plump up your pillows.’

  ‘Oh, fuss fuss fuss. You’re turning into an old woman yourself, Gilbert. I’ll be glad when I can leave this place and get back to my work. When am I leaving by the way? In fact, why was I brought here in the first place?’

  ‘You were neglecting yourself. The abbot thought it for the best. Your memory is not what it was.’

  ‘Nonsense! I have an excellent memory.’

  ‘Master, you cannot even remember my name.’

  ‘Of course I can. You’re Gilbert my assistant.’

  ‘No master, I’m Gerard the infirmarer. Gilbert died last Michaelmas at Eye Priory where he’d been sacristan for twenty years. You remember? We said a special mass.’

  ‘I know that. Of course I know that. I just got confused for a moment that’s all.’

  ‘Exactly. Now, how are your bowels? Have you evacuated them today yet?’

  ‘I can remember more than you think. I c
an recall the day I arrived here and that was over half a century ago. Samson was abbot then, of course. I can even tell you the first words he said to me. Walter, he said, it is my job to cure the souls of men; it is your job to do the same for their bodies. There. Not such a clod now am I?’

  ‘You were very fond of this Abbot Samson.’

  ‘He was a very great man. Abbot Henry could learn much from him.’

  ‘I’m sure he’d be overjoyed to hear it.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be overjoyed to tell him.’

  ‘No master, I don’t gossip. What passes within the infirmary walls stays within the infirmary walls. What are you doing now?’

  ‘Counting.’

  ‘Counting what? The passing years?’

  ‘Bridges.’

  Were there two of them or three? Or two bridges and a ford? Certainly there were two rivers. I remember we had to cross over them both in order to get into the town. It was a significant moment for by crossing those rivers we were finally leaving Suffolk and entering the wild and mysterious county of Norfolk. The road we wanted was on the further side of the town but to get to it we had to get through the marketplace which even on this freezing January morning was thronging with people.

  As soon as our little caravan of four mules entered the square we were descended upon by a swarm of waifs like moths to a flame. Samson threw them a few coins which they scrabbled for in the frozen mud. All well and good, but it drew the attention of two of the monks from the priory who happened to be in the market buying provisions. It was clear from the expressions on their faces that our presence was a shock. So, not everybody in Thetford knew of our coming, I realised.

  ‘I think we’ve been spotted, father.’

  ‘So I see.’

  After some hasty exchanges one of the monks sped off, his robe flapping above his ankles in his haste, while the other came bustling over.

  ‘Father abbot? It is you, oh what joy!’ He kissed Samson’s hand like a man deprived of nourishment.

  ‘Sub-cellarer Simon,’ said Samson extricating himself from the man’s grip. ‘What good fortune to have run across you. We were just on our way to the priory.’