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I looked up. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. This Gilbertine canon.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘You tended his wound after the incident in the chapterhouse, I gather?’

  ‘Hardly a wound. He had a nose bleed.’

  ‘Which you managed to stop - impressively I might add. The boy was very grateful.’

  ‘I am heartened to hear it.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Herbert nodded. ‘You know why he’s here, of course?’

  ‘I believe he’s something of a euphoric.’

  ‘One of the chosen.’ Herbert smiled. ‘I envy him.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Of course. It must be wonderful to feel the spirit moving so strongly.’

  I looked at him sceptically.

  Herbert continued: ‘The boy is alone here. In need of a chaplain.’

  Oh, now I could see where this was going. ‘Brother Prior -’

  ‘And since he knows and trusts you -’

  ‘Prior Herbert, I have my duties…’

  ‘…which need not conflict.’ He smiled beguilingly. ‘Just keep an eye on him, that’s all I’m asking. You’ve already recommended a change of diet – a recommendation, by the way, which I have approved. Now I want you to continue your interest and mentor the boy fully.’

  I shook my head. ‘Out of the question. I’m far too busy.’

  Herbert sighed heavily. ‘Walter, please don’t make me go to the Bishop.’

  I was trapped. It was obvious what he was doing. He wanted to keep me so preoccupied that I wouldn’t have time for the murder. If I refused he would appeal to Bishop Eustace of Ely as our temporary pastoral director while the abbacy was vacant. Ironically, that role would normally belong to the Bishop of Norwich - Raoul de Gray’s uncle; but Bishop John was out of the country. I knew Bishop Eustace well enough but even if I managed to persuade him to relieve me of this duty it would involve a lengthy trip to Ely in Cambridgeshire. By the time I returned de Saye would have Raoul half way across Norfolk. It was a shrewd move on Herbert’s part - uncharacteristically so. More likely it was Geoffrey de Saye’s idea. I was angry and frustrated which probably explained what I said next:

  ‘What if I can prove Raoul’s innocence?’

  Herbert’s eyes narrowed. ‘Be careful, Walter. I haven’t yet forgotten your indiscretion with the Lady Adelle. Don’t add to your woes by providing a spurious alibi for her husband.’

  ‘The girl’s body was found in the early hours of this morning - yes?’ I said ignoring the threat.

  ‘So I believe.’

  ‘So she was murdered some time last night - agreed?’

  He didn’t reply, so I continued:

  ‘That being the case, Raoul de Gray definitely could not have killed her.’

  ‘Oh? Why not?’

  ‘Because he spent all of last night on my laboratorium floor - with me.’

  Chapter 10

  THE BEADLE, THE WHORE AND THE VAGRANT

  Stupid, stupid, stupid to admit that Raoul had been in my laboratorium. I should have kept it to myself. It was a disciplinary offence although I could possibly have claimed he was ill and in need of my services. But I was angry over his arrest and even angrier over the way I was being manipulated. And I couldn’t resist seeing the look on Herbert’s face when I told him. The sin of vanity, you see? It clouds the clearest of judgements. Herbert was furious practically accusing me of being the boy’s accomplice. I could only repeat what Dominic had told me that Raoul was in my laboratorium at the start of lauds but had gone by the end of it. There was the possibility, I suppose, that Dominic could have fallen asleep thus allowing Raoul to slip out of the abbey, murder Effie, dump her body in the marketplace and then slip back into the abbey again without Dominic or the gatekeeper noticing, but there didn’t seem much likelihood of that. As a sop to Herbert’s vanity I told him that had I known about the murder beforehand I would naturally have handed Raoul over to him. I don’t think he was much impressed. Fortunately he was too stunned to make any response. Anyway, I left his office before he could accuse me of anything else - or worse, confine me to the abbey precinct as punishment.

  What intrigued me though was why de Saye was so keen to be involved. I didn’t believe he “happened to be passing through the market” when Effie’s body was discovered - he’d arrived too smartly and too well-prepared for that. But why sully his boots over the death of a maid, even a maid to such an illustrious house as de Gray? It was the Matthew case all over again. Then, too, there had been a murder and then, too, de Saye had attempted to fog the evidence in order to blame someone else, someone who later turned out to be completely innocent. I was loathe to let the same thing happen again. But how to prevent it? Clearly not by wasting my time with the Gilbertine boy. This was just Herbert doing what came naturally to him: Hedging his bets in order to keep in with the rich and powerful and doing whatever they say. Once again I yearned for the days of Abbot Samson. Trickster he may be, but he was in thrall to no man - certainly not the likes of Geoffrey de Saye.

  The truth is I wasn’t entirely convinced of Raoul’s innocence either. Given his maltreatment of Effie I was almost inclined to let matters take their course and let him prove his own innocence if he could. Before Geoffrey de Saye’s appearance I might have done just that. But with de Saye there is never any chance of fair play. The truth was that Raoul could not have killed the girl between leaving the tavern and the discovery of the body because for all that time he was never out of someone’s sight - either me, Onethumb or Dominic. That didn’t mean he didn’t kill her, only that he couldn’t have done it overnight. The only time, in fact, available to him was the period before the tavern incident, and I had an idea about that.

  I decided to speak first to the town beadle, the man who had been trying to control the crowd when the body was discovered. I found him in his office beside the guildhall dozing behind his desk. He woke up with a start as I entered.

  ‘What? Oh it’s you,’ he said squinting hard at me. ‘You’re the monk who got me my black eye.’ He gingerly prodded a discoloration on the side of his face.

  ‘That’s a nasty bruise you’ve got there, my friend,’ I tutted and went over to him. ‘I’m a doctor. Let me look at it.’

  He flapped me away. ‘No - thank you brother, leave it. You’ve done enough. You’ll only make it worse.’

  ‘Quite right,’ I said taking a step back again and putting my hands behind my back. ‘Better to let it heal naturally. I’ll send my assistant over with something to ease the discomfort. A potion of my own concoction…’

  He shook his head. ‘No, it’s really not necessary -’

  ‘…of fermented apple wine suffused with citrus and honeydew. I can only spare a gallon or two, you understand, as it’s potent stuff. It is the least I can do for causing that fracas in the market place this morning.’ I smiled beguilingly.

  The man eyed me uncertainly. ‘Lord de Saye’s men have such sharp elbows,’ he grumbled rubbing his arm. ‘They really hurt me, you know? If only you hadn’t laughed at him…’

  ‘Mea culpa,’ I said, bowing. ‘It was my fault entirely. I can only apologize profusely, my very dear friend.’ I stepped forward and carefully patted him on the shoulder making him flinch involuntarily.

  ‘Yes, well…’ He thought about that for a minute gingerly prodded his eye with a fat finger. Gradually his frown faded and he began to chuckle. ‘Mind you, he did look funny.’

  ‘Didn’t he just!’

  ‘Snarling at you like that!’

  ‘I know!’ I flapped a negligent wrist.

  ‘Bone-breaker!’ he guffawed and rolled his eyes - then winced fingering his tender eye-socket again. ‘Apple and citrus, did you say?’

  ‘With honeydew.’

  He sniffed. ‘Well, perhaps for medicinal purposes.’

  I smiled benevolently. ‘I will get my assistant to bring some over before curfew.’

  The beadle was looking brighter now. ‘Was there something in
particular you wanted, brother?’

  ‘No no, I only came to offer my apologies.’ I started to leave. ‘Unless…’ I came back into the room. ‘There is one slight matter you might be able to help me with. Yesterday was a normal trading day in the market?’

  He nodded. ‘It was.’

  ‘And the usual order obtained? Normal hours were kept?’

  ‘We stick strictly to our ordinances brother; you’ve no need to worry on that score.’ He put up a reassuring hand.

  ‘So that means the market square was cleared by when? - three of the after noon?’

  ‘Earlier. This time of the year the light begins to fade quickly. Many traders, especially those who have come a distance, don’t like to travel the roads in the dark. Cutthroats and footpads, you see? But this is not really my province. You should be talking to the market reeve.’

  ‘Bear with me,’ I smiled. ‘My question is about the area of the market where that girl’s body was found. It is near where the blacksmiths have their forges, I believe?’

  ‘What’s your point?’

  ‘Just this: If the town blacksmiths are anything like ours at the abbey then they like to carry on working right up to the curfew bell being reluctant to dowse their fires earlier than absolutely necessary.’

  The beadle drew himself up. ‘Not with my sanction they don’t.’

  ‘Nevertheless it happens, am I right? I’m not condemning, I merely want to confirm that the area where the girl’s body was found was occupied right up to the end of the day.’

  ‘Oh, I get it,’ he nodded. ‘You want to know what time the body was dumped. Well I can help you there. The crier and I were by the market cross right up to curfew bell. As a matter of fact I rang it myself last night. And I can confidently say that no-one came along with a dead body on my watch.’

  ‘Good,’ I smiled. ‘That is what I was hoping you’d say. Now while I’m here perhaps I could see the body. I take it she’s in there.’ I took a step toward the door at the far end of the room.

  The beadle put out a halting hand. ‘Sorry brother. Out of the question.’

  ‘It will take but a moment.’

  ‘Aye, a moment’s view for you and a day in the stocks for me.’ He shook his head vehemently. ‘It’s more than my job’s worth.’

  ‘Very well. In that case I suppose I shall have to make a formal application to the coroner to see the body. A pity,’ I sighed. ‘I didn’t want to have to mention the bribe.’

  The beadle sat up. ‘Ay? Bribe? What bribe?’

  ‘Why, my apple wine of course. Naturally, I’d have to declare it. Of course, if I happened to see the body informally…’

  The beadle stood at the door to the street and looked out anxiously.

  ‘I do wish you’d hasten, brother. The Sheriff’s men are due at any time to take the body away. If they should see you…’

  ‘They won’t even know I’ve been,’ I said peering with a lighted candle in the darkened room. ‘I see there are marks around her neck. Is that how she died, do you think? Strangulation?’

  ‘So I believe. Had the breath wrung from her, poor cat.’ He glanced up the street then back at me. ‘You are hurrying aren’t you brother?’

  ‘Ah, now that’s interesting.’

  ‘What?’ he said coming back inside. ‘What’s interesting?’

  ‘She has two hands.’

  The beadle looked at me as though I were soft in the head. ‘How many should she have?’

  ‘One,’ I replied. ‘The pig ate the other – at least, I thought she did.’

  I realised then what had bothered me when I saw the body earlier in the marketplace. The thumb on the severed hand had been the wrong way round – that is to say, the hand I saw was a right hand, not a left as I’d thought. Now I could see why. Effie still had both her hands intact. The pig certainly had someone’s hand in its mouth. The question was, whose?

  The beadle was starting to look agitated again. ‘Look, are you finished yet, brother? The Sheriff’s men are due at any time.’

  ‘Just one more thing before I go. I don’t suppose a priest has seen her today?’

  The beadle shrugged, so I placed my hand on Effie’s cold brow and closed my eyes in silent prayer.

  ‘No time for that, brother. I can see the tops of their pikes coming up the street.’

  I opened my eyes again and glared at the man. ‘Amen.’

  ‘Amen,’ echoed the beadle. ‘Now brother, if you wouldn’t mind…’

  *

  From the beadle’s office I went to the tavern where Onethumb and I had been the previous evening. In daylight I could see that it sported the sign of The Hanged Man - an unfortunate omen if ever there was one. I hadn’t noticed then but I could see now it was in a street known for its taverns and its whore-houses although by day it was an ordinary thoroughfare. But still it wasn’t wise to be seen lingering there for too long in case anyone got the wrong idea. Which placed me in a quandary: Should I hang about outside and make people suspect my purpose, or should I venture inside and confirm them? In the end I decided to wait and hope that anyone who saw me might think I was there on a mission to dissuade the fallen from their sinful ways. From the looks I was getting from passers-by I don’t think anyone was fooled - which made me wonder how many other monks from the abbey had been here.

  A couple of vagabonds seated on the ground by the entrance were taking an unwelcome interest in my presence although I was doing my best to ignore them. One looked to be a leper with a filthy bandage covering one arm while his companion kept sniggering and sniffing as though he had a permanent rheum. Much as our Saviour values every creature on His good earth I could not help feeling that even He might baulk at these two. I could smell them from several feet distance. The one with the bandage fixed me with his stare and which I tried to avoid with difficulty. But he was determined to catch my eye and when at last he succeeded he shot to his feet, raised his unbandaged hand and in the most portentous tones delivered to me this stern warning:

  ‘Beware the whoremongers! Beware the seductress who flatters with words and forgets the covenant of God! Beware the immoral woman dripping with honey, her mouth smoother than oil and - ’

  ‘Shut up Hervey!’

  Blessed holy saints and patriarchs, it was the girl who Raoul had been draped around the previous evening who now emerged from the tavern door. At her words the vagabond preacher instantly ceased his blathering and squatted back on the ground again next to his companion where he crouched as quiet as a mouse. I was impressed and regarded the girl. She blinked back at me and then up at the threatening sky before pulling her shawl around her and starting on up the hill. I hastened after her.

  ‘Young woman - a moment of your time if you please.’

  She stopped and looked me up and down. ‘You’re not one of my regulars.’

  ‘Madam,’ I said indignantly, ‘I assure you -’

  She shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ and set off again up the hill.

  ‘B-but you do have something I require,’ I stuttered trotting to keep up with her. ‘Information.’

  She snorted without slackening her pace. ‘That’s a new word for it.’

  ‘For which I am happy to pay.’

  She looked me up and down sceptically. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Go on, Netta,’ yelled a passing young man. ‘Charge the monk double. The old hypocrite!’

  She looked me up and down again. ‘How much?’

  I fumbled in my belt pouch and held out a coin.

  She remembered Raoul all right. Last night was the second time he’d been in. It seems he’d taken a particular fancy to her among all the whores and sought her out. The first time had been fine but last night he made a bit of a nuisance of himself.

  ‘Anyway, you were there,’ she said. ‘I remember you and that cripple. You must have seen him.’

  ‘Indeed,’ I replied, ‘but last night, wasn’t there some kind of a…disagreement?’

  She f
olded her arms across her chest. ‘Oh, so that’s what this is about, is it? You tell him he pays for the hour. If he can’t get it up that’s his problem.’

  ‘No no,’ I said frowning at her candour. ‘That’s not why I’m here. I just want to hear from you that he was in the tavern for most of the evening.’

  She regarded me with curiosity. ‘Not till he pays.’

  I fumbled in my pouch again and took out another coin.

  ‘Why’d you want to know?’

  It seems Raoul was there all right, all evening. Netta hadn’t been able to shift him, he was too big. He just slept on the edge of her bed like a baby.

  ‘While you … entertained … other gentlemen?’

  She shrugged. ‘He didn’t notice and they didn’t care.’ She smiled slyly. ‘Like to hear that sort of thing, do you?’

  I could feel my face glowing bright red. ‘No, I er… Thank you. Thank you very much.’ I fumbled in my robes and brought out another penny.

  She stared at the lonely scrap of silver lying in the palm of her hand. I fumbled again and gave her another penny then shrugged to indicate it was all I had left. With a snort of contempt she snapped her hand shut and turned up the road again, muttering.

  Well, I thought as I watched her go, at least she confirmed what I had hoped, that Raoul was in the tavern before the curfew bell was rung. Not that Netta or anyone else would likely testify to the fact. I doubted whether anyone could be found who would admit to being in the tavern last night - I certainly wouldn’t. But what I found baffling was why a personable young man like Raoul de Gray with a beautiful young wife and a family reputation to uphold would feel the need to seek out such as Netta – delightful and charming as I was sure she was…in the right environment. Raoul’s behaviour was mystifying. I sighed. Not for the first time I found the human condition perplexing.

  Now that Netta had gone, the vagabond she called Hervey started up again: ‘If your right eye causes you to sin, brother, tear it out! If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off!’

  I squatted down next to him in the dust. ‘And is that what happened to you, my friend?’ I asked him indicating his bandaged arm.