‘My Lord Abbot, you asked for me?’ Peter asked, with apparent surprise. He had been warned, but their expressions were fearsome.
Augerus entered behind him, and now stood contemplating him with some surprise, a tray of cups and wine in his hands.
‘Wake up, Steward!’ the Abbot snapped. ‘Serve us. Brother Peter, I have had some alarming news. It is said that you knew who was stealing from me; that you have known for some time.’
Peter sniffed, his brows lifted. ‘It is true that I guessed, as you know, but I couldn’t swear to know for certain.’
‘How did you guess?’ the Abbot demanded, his face darkening.
‘My Lord Abbot, as I told you before, I saw Gerard and also Wally, taking goods. Thus when I spoke to Wally, his part was known to me, and he swore he’d fetch back the pewter.’
‘Brother Mark has said he thinks you were helping the thieves. Is this so?’ the Abbot rapped out.
‘No, it most certainly is not. I knew he was about, and for a short while I did wonder whether he could be involved, but now it seems…’
‘You decided he was not?’ Simon prompted.
Peter glanced at Mark with an apologetic smile. ‘It is hard to imagine someone less suited to clandestine work. He would always be too drunk later in the evening to be able to perform any quiet or secret operation without discovery.’
‘He was able to perform one,’ Simon said.
‘Oh, stealing the wine, yes,’ Peter said dismissively. ‘That was simple enough, though. Mark likes his drink too much to be able to leave it alone, and it was easy for him to persuade Augerus to get drunk with him one night, and then, when Augerus’ wits were entirely fuddled, get him to open up the undercroft and permit him to taste the wines.’
‘You knew of this?’ the Abbot said.
Peter shrugged uneasily. ‘I thought you yourself knew. Otherwise I shouldn’t have spoken. It is a matter for Mark and God. Not me.’
The Abbot slowly turned and stared at his salsarius. ‘I shall wish to speak with you, Brother,’ he said heavily before facing Peter again. ‘You say that Augerus let him in to drink my wine?’
‘I saw them.’
Augerus felt Abbot Robert’s eyes turn upon him, and hastily gabbled, ‘I am sorry, my Lord, but if I did let him in, it was because I was too drunk to realise! I could scarcely have wanted to let him in to take all your wine.’
‘Four times in a week?’ Peter murmured in surprise. ‘You must have been extremely drunk, Augerus.’
‘Is this true?’ the Abbot snarled. ‘You went to enjoy private parties in my undercroft each night?’
‘My Lord, I don’t know. All I know is, I woke up one morning and Mark there told me that I must replace all the wine from one barrel because he had finished it, and you had announced your imminent return. Oh, my Lord, don’t scold me and punish me for weakness – rather, punish the man who brought me down.’
‘What have you to say, Mark?’ the Abbot said.
The monk noted the absence of the fraternal title. ‘My Lord, I cannot lie to you. I did enjoy your wine. But that is all I have done, and I did tell you about Gerard. I couldn’t bring shame to this Abbey. I believe that Gerard was not alone in stealing. I believe he had an ally within who helped him pass the pewter out to Wally.’
‘That is something that troubled me,’ Simon said. ‘How would Gerard have come to know Wally? Surely someone would have needed to introduce them? And then, how would Gerard have gained access to the lodgings here? Would he not have found the doors barred and locked?’
‘Yes,’ the Abbot said with a frown. ‘In your drunkenness, you must have left the doors open, Augerus.’
‘Perhaps that is why Mark insisted on ensuring I was drunk, my Lord,’ Augerus said with a shocked expression. ‘He wanted to give Gerard access to the rooms so that he could pass the stolen things to Wally.’
Simon chuckled. ‘This is a fine muddle, my Lord. But we do know some facts. First, that Mark can be persuaded to accept a drink of any sort.’ He ignored a huffy grunt from the salsarius. ‘Second, that it would be easy for Gerard to get in here, if he had an accomplice inside your lodgings. We also know that the thefts were tied to Wally’s death, and that Hamelin also died because of the thefts.’
‘Why?’
‘Hamelin had been given the money, but I think that the money was a secondary motive. If his killer had found it, he would have kept it, but the money itself wasn’t the reason for the murder. I think he had to die because he saw Mark up at Wally’s house that day. But Ellis saw two monks. We know what Mark was doing, he was trying to force Wally to bring back the pewter, but what about the other man? We know Peter was on the moors – but what if there was a third? Perhaps Hamelin saw him too. And which other monk was not in the Abbey that day? Augerus.’
‘But I was here!’ The Steward looked indignant.
‘The groom said he could get no ale that day. We know he couldn’t go to Mark, but all monks would surely come and ask you for some, if he wasn’t about. Yet no one could find you either.’
‘It’s not true!’
‘Hamelin was killed in case he spoke later,’ Simon continued sternly. ‘You murdered him, leaving his wife a widow and his children orphaned. How could you do that?’
‘My Lord Abbot, what can I say?’
‘In God’s name, just tell me the truth!’ the Abbot stormed. ‘You have thrown away your honour and integrity and become no more than a felon! You captured an innocent boy and forced him to do your bidding, didn’t you? Why?’
‘I was scared!’
‘Scared of what?’
Augerus began weeping. He knew it was pathetic, but that was how he felt. Feeble and useless. For many years he had been a capable servant, but now all was lost, and all because of his fear of the man who had bullied him as a schoolboy.
‘Joce Blakemoor was at school with me, and he beat me. Broke my nose until it gushed. He came to me some time ago and said that he would cripple me if I didn’t help him. He needed money badly, and I didn’t dare argue. He said he’d make me look worse than Peter. I couldn’t stand up to him. He was always bigger than me.’
‘You could have told me,’ the Abbot said.
‘He swore he’d kill me if I said a word to anyone.’
Simon said, ‘You must have known he couldn’t murder you without suffering the consequences.’
‘What would the consequences matter to me? I’d be dead, wouldn’t I? You speak as if he’s a rational man! He’s not, he’s evil. He could be a novice demon. The devil’s own acolyte.’
‘You forced Gerard to steal.’
‘Only a little. I had to do something,’ Augerus wailed.
‘And harmed his soul as well as your own!’
‘Is there no one among my Brothers whom I can trust?’ Abbot Robert demanded.
‘You can trust me, Abbot! Please, don’t send me away. Joce’ll have me killed, and–’
Simon gave a low, scornful laugh. ‘You are sad and fearful now, Augerus, but you brutally murdered Wally, didn’t you? Why did you do that?’
‘You have said, to get back the pewter or the money for the Abbey,’ Augerus said, shaking his head as though sadly.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Simon said. ‘Baldwin and I have already heard that Wally diddled his associate out of a tiny part of his share in the proceeds of the crimes.’
‘A tiny part? It was a whole shilling!’ the Steward expostulated.
‘I think,’ Simon said with a faint smile, facing the Abbot, ‘that that is your answer. The first murder was for one shilling. The second was for less; it was purely to protect the murderer from the consequences of his first murder.’