‘You don’t have the right!’
‘I can impose a death sentence if the coroner is present to hear it, and I can hang a man if the coroner is there to witness it. Don’t tell me my rights, Sir Edward! I have been here longer than you! I know the ancient rights of this manor, and I know your job too. I was a coroner before you were born!’
Sir Edward blinked. He had not anticipated such a storm of rage over losing the man. ‘He is in the church. He will be permitted to abjure, if he wishes.’
‘Abjure my arse! I want him here to answer our questions. I want to know why that girl was in the mire in the first place.’
‘Really?’ Sir Edward said, and he cocked an eyebrow. So far as he could see, Sir Geoffrey was building up an alibi and creating an environment in which his own determination to discover the culprit could not be in doubt. It was clever, the coroner thought, but hardly clever enough. ‘You know that Keeper? He has the reputation of a man who sees the truth no matter how well hidden. He is supposed to be honourable.’
‘All men are honourable until they need money,’ Sir Geoffrey snapped.
‘What will you do now?’
‘Cause that poor soul to be returned to her manor to be buried, and then I shall do what I should have done yesterday.’
‘What is that?’
‘Attack Sir Odo’s places this side of the river with all my men. I’ve had enough of this flouncing about in case someone is offended.’
‘You cannot mean that? You’ll start a war on Sir Odo’s lands?’
‘You’ve realised nothing, have you?’ Sir Geoffrey spat. He turned, thumbs stuck in his belt, and stared at the coroner. ‘You think I’m devious and manipulative, and I’ve set up all this machinery just so that I can take the spoils … but what if it’s shown that I am little better than a felon and a cutpurse? Oh, I will win the king’s pardon, no doubt, but that will be some while away. And in the meantime I’ll be an outlaw. You think I want that? Someone has been acting with great skill and determination to make me look like a murderer. The death of the woman from Meeth, the murder of the family in Iddesleigh, the murder of my own damned sergeant — all done to point to my guilt. Can’t you even understand that?’
Sir Edward nodded slowly. ‘And you think that this was all Sir Odo’s doing?’
‘I’ll spring a surprise on him that he will never forget. He wanted to make me outlaw? I’ll return the gift with compliments. He will regret the day he sought to put the blame for these deaths on me!’
‘So you are Perkin?’ Baldwin said.
The body had been deposited in the church with Matthew, and now they were at the inn with quarts of ale before them all. Simon was glaring balefully at the fire, and for some reason Edgar was looking amused. Baldwin had hissed at him to wipe the grin off his face, but to no avail.
Perkin sat uneasily in this company. ‘Yes …’
‘Stop fidgeting, man!’ Baldwin growled. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, but I want to hear from you all about the death of Ailward, and of Lady Lucy, too.’
Simon leaned forward. ‘But first, what can you tell us about the murder of the man up the way from here? Hugh Shepherd, his wife and their boy were all killed. Do you know anything about that?’
Shaking his head, Perkin said, ‘If I knew anything, I would tell you, on my oath. It was one of those nights when I was. . tired. I had been working hard all the day, and when I finished I went to my friend Beorn’s house and drank with him. He had some ale that had to be finished so he could put another brew on. There was rather more than I’d expected, or it was stronger than I was used to, and I slept well that night. It was last Saturday, I think?’
Baldwin looked up at Jankin, who nodded.
Perkin continued: ‘We all saw the men riding off in the late afternoon, and we wondered where they were going, but they set off down towards the river. Of course we know now where they were heading: to Robert Crokers’s house. Sir Geoffrey and Sir Odo have been bickering about that bit of land for some while. Sir Geoffrey claims that it’s part of the old estate and should have been passed to him when the lands were taken.’
‘Taken from Ailward’s family?’ Simon confirmed.
‘Yes. Poor Malkin and Lady Isabel have nothing left, really. They lost house, lands, livestock, the lot. Sir Geoffrey argues that the plot where Sir Odo installed Robert Crokers was actually part of the confiscated estate and should be passed to him, but Sir Odo claims that the land was held in fief from his lord, Lord de Courtenay. Both rattle their swords, but neither wants a war.’
‘Did you hear the men come back?’
‘No. As I say, I was at Beorn’s house.’
‘Did you know of any man who could have sought to harm Hugh?’ Simon pressed.
‘No. He was a miserable cur, though — never smiled, except when he looked at his wife or the boy. That was no surprise — she was a woman to be proud of. But apart from the normal ribaldry, no one made any comments. I don’t know of any arguments with him. Both of them kept themselves to themselves, I think. He wasn’t sociable.’
That was true enough, Baldwin told himself. ‘What of Sir Geoffrey? He had his men at Robert’s place earlier that same day — could he have gone from there up to Hugh’s and attacked in the evening?’
‘Yes, but I can’t understand why he’d attack just the man Hugh. There are others up here whom he hates more.’
‘Very well, then,’ Baldwin said, after glancing at Simon. ‘What can you tell us about the other dead man? Ailward?’
‘That really rattled me,’ Perkin admitted, and as he spoke his frame shook like a nettle in the wind. ‘I’d seen him only a little while earlier, and suddenly there he was, stretched on the grass, dead.’
‘Someone said that there had been a camp ball match that day?’
‘Yes. It’s an annual game we hold here between Monkleigh and Iddesleigh. Been going on for donkey’s years. Everyone joins in; we play from one end of Furze Down to the other. First to get the bladder in the enemy’s goal is the winner. And we’d have won this year, if it wasn’t for bloody Walter. He was up there on the hillside when I got above the stream, and he just knocked me down and grabbed the thing.’
Baldwin could easily imagine the sight: twenty or thirty men haring along, one gripping the ball, and another thirty-odd hoping to take it from him. Camp ball was so dangerous, had caused so many brawls and arguments in his own manor, that he had been tempted to ban it from his lands, but there too the sport was ancient, and although he had seen the most appalling injuries, men and girls still wanted to play. ‘Was that when you found the body?’
‘No,’ Perkin said. He looked away uncomfortably. ‘I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, you understand?’
‘Of course,’ Baldwin said. He allowed a little steel to enter his voice as he added, ‘But I must have the truth about the whole circumstance.’
‘There was something about it. When I was knocked down, I saw Ailward standing a little way distant. He was a Monkleigh man, but he made no effort to save me. He just stood and watched as Walter knocked me down and threw the bladder away. It troubled me.’
‘And?’
‘When Walter stopped me,’ Perkin said more slowly, ‘he grabbed me about the waist and legs, and threw me bodily to the ground. I was flying, and while I flew, I thought I saw some signs that looked odd — like blood on the heather. It was just a fleeting glimpse, though, nothing definite.’
‘Where was this?’
‘Near to where Ailward was standing.’
‘Take us there,’ Baldwin said.
It was about noon when John returned at, for him, a fast amble. Since staying here to look after Hugh, he had found his own feet were improving no end. Being able to rest with them warming by a fire at first made his chilblains protest, but later made them subside. The old cracks from too much walking that stabbed so cruelly were binding again, and soon he thought he might be able to move with less of the crabbed, sailor’s gait that had grown so habitual since he left Exeter.