‘Yes. And explain all that happened on the night Jack was killed.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I think you do. You commanded Jack to kill the Queen, but then you changed your mind. For whatever reason, you decided to stop Jack. But how to do that? The only way was to kill him.’
‘You call me a murderer?’
‘I call you much worse than that.’
‘Be careful how you speak to me!’
Baldwin was about to say more, when Despenser shook his head.
‘Sir Baldwin! You think you have some marvellous evidence against me? You do not. I knew nothing about this Jack atte Hedge. Nothing. And you cannot prove otherwise.’
‘I shall prove it!’
Despenser shrugged and grimaced without humour, then walked slowly away, from the scene of slaughter, content that with Ellis dead, he was safe.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Bishop Walter was happy to accede to Sir Baldwin’s request, and met with Simon and Baldwin in the smaller of the royal chambers, the Lesser Hall. They were only there a short while before Coroner John opened the door and peered inside. The night was falling, and it was growing dark. Simon was glad to see that the Coroner had brought a candle, and servants entered with him, quickly lighting candles in a pair of floor-standing holders. Soon the room was illuminated with a cheerful orange glow.
The Coroner ushered the servants out, and then said, ‘My Lord Bishop? I was told to come here.’
‘You have seen the two dead men out there?’ Baldwin asked the Bishop.
‘I am afraid so. Two of Despenser’s men and one other, of whom we have only the head. I am shocked by these deaths. What could have led to such a violent assault?’
‘Three dead. Three more dead,’ Baldwin said heavily. ‘And all for so little reason.’
The Coroner stirred in his corner. ‘I should not overly tax your sympathy on their behalf, Sir Baldwin. I am sure that one of those men was involved in the murder of the innkeeper over at Chelchede on Sunday.’
‘That is a terrible thing to say of the dead!’ the Bishop said, startled.
‘Perhaps. Yet I believe you said that you have evidence I could use?’
‘Yes, indeed, Sir John,’ Baldwin said. ‘We have much. For the first, we know that the assassin who was found in the palace here was in fact in the pay of Sir Hugh le Despenser. He was named Jack atte Hedge, and was a known killer.’
‘You have proof?’
‘Yes. He climbed the wall at the south-western point where the wall meets the Abbey grounds, knocking out the guard on duty there, before making his way into the palace.’
‘Where he died,’ John noted with satisfaction.
‘After killing Mabilla,’ Simon growled.
‘And then there was the supposed attack upon Despenser himself. The bowman who tried that had a perfect shot at Despenser, from what we have heard. Despenser was walking away from the wall, one man well ahead of him out in the front, and the other nearer the wall. Yet the bowman leaned right out to fire.’
‘Yes. I thought the same when I studied the ground,’ John agreed.
‘What do you infer from that?’ the Bishop asked.
‘That he was not aiming for Sir Hugh. He was aiming at another,’ Baldwin said.
‘How much, I wonder, would a man be paid for killing the Despenser?’ Coroner John wondered aloud.
‘At least twenty, maybe five-and-twenty pounds. Maybe even more, if he was being paid by someone who had a serious grudge against the man,’ Baldwin said. ‘There are some who would no doubt pay any price to see him removed.’
The Bishop said, a little stiffly, ‘I hardly think that this sort of speculation is helpful.’
Coroner John nodded — although he was remembering the coins he had found in the dead bowman’s wallet. The sum had amounted to less than a pound. Hardly the King’s ransom that Sir Hugh’s enemies would have paid for his head.
But as he calculated, the door behind them all was kicked shut. ‘Who else would they have been aiming at, then, Sir Baldwin?’
Simon felt his hackles rise at the sound of that voice. Sir Hugh le Despenser had been standing at the door for some little while — how long Simon didn’t know — but it was plainly long enough for him to get a feel for what was being said.
‘Well? You have been making accusations against me with joyful abandonment. Am I the only person to miss the full depth of your ingenuity?’
Simon instinctively felt for the hilt of his sword as the man swaggered over to stand by the candles. He stood facing his accuser.
Baldwin nodded. ‘Very well, then. I know that you had your man Jack atte Hedge enter the grounds. I think that he knocked a guard, Arch, on the head and all but addled his brains. I believe that you had commanded him or another man to kill the maid Mabilla.’
‘My. Wasn’t I busy!’ Despenser observed coldly. He held a hand to the flame nearest him as though seeking the warmth.
‘However, after the death of Mabilla, you knew full well that your man might come to recognise your part in her murder. You did not wish him as an enemy within your household, so reluctantly you decided that the dead girl’s brother Ellis too must die.’
‘“Reluctantly” eh? You do me that honour, at least.’
‘A man like you will only reluctantly lose a competent and reliable servant like him,’ Baldwin said with confidence. ‘But the last days must have been disastrous for you. You lost Jack atte Hedge, then Ellis and William Pilk. At the same time you have lost your best spy on your wife and the Queen.’
‘You step too close to the brink, Sir Baldwin!’ Despenser hissed.
‘Yes,’ Baldwin smiled grimly. ‘I, who interpret the facts, may imperil my life, while you, who are responsible for all these deaths, may threaten me with impunity! But I am not finished, for you also comprehended your danger and sought to alleviate it somewhat. And how? By having a bowman execute your man Ellis. Except he missed his target, didn’t he? He was to have killed Ellis, and then you would have had him slain immediately. But no matter. When William Pilk saw him and called attention to him, Ellis ran to save you! What irony! He ran to save the man who had paid another to kill him. And then your guards on the walls slew the bowman, as you had anticipated. What, did you tell him that he would be able to escape safely because you had warned the guards to let him loose?’
‘This is all most fascinating,’ Despenser murmured. ‘Pray, what else am I guilty of? Perhaps I also caused the famine? Did I slay the officer in St Sardos and precipitate the war with France?’
‘Do not be flippant!’ Baldwin said. ‘You, who have been responsible for so many deaths, should at least show a little compassion and humility! Do you have nothing more to say?’
‘I have plenty to say. I say this is nonsense! I say that the tale is built upon your remorseless enmity to me and my people. You, Sir Baldwin, have tried to thwart my people all over the country. I know of you from old. And now you have created this fiction!’
As he spoke, he had removed himself to the other side of the great candle-holder, and Simon thought that he was moving in order to defend himself from attack. But then he took a small parchment strip from his scrip and held it to the flames. For a moment Simon wondered what he was doing, and then he gasped. ‘Baldwin, the indenture!’
‘This?’ Despenser smiled wide-eyed at Baldwin. ‘Did you want this? Ah, but it was a nothing.’
It had flamed like an oil-soaked cloth, flaring in a moment, and he dropped it quickly. But there was no point attempting to rescue it. As it landed on the ground it was clear enough that it would be ash before Simon or Baldwin could reach it. A few words might have been legible, but only a few.