Coureton grinned. ‘And she did. I could see it in her face.’
‘So could I, Eustace. The lord Richard’s hopes have foundered. I’d love to be there when she confronts him. The lady Adelaide has a sharp tongue when she’s roused, as we found out ourselves.’
‘What else did you learn?’ asked the sheriff.
Ralph gave full details of their visit, drawing particular attention to the discomfort she had shown when questioned about Starculf. Bigot listened with interest. When Ralph had finished, the sheriff passed on his own news.
‘There’ve been more sightings of Starculf,’ he announced. ‘I still have search parties out looking for him. We know that he’s in the area and has been for some time.’
‘How did you find that out, my lord sheriff?’ asked Coureton.
‘From a locksmith in Wymondham.’
‘Locksmith?’
‘Yes, my lord. What puzzled me was how the man who stole the elephants and abducted Hermer actually got into the house. He must have had a key. The first thing I did, naturally, was to check on the locksmiths in Norwich itself to see if any had done work recently that might possibly be connected with the lord Richard’s house. None of them had. So we widened our search to Wymondham.’
‘I remember seeing that name in our returns,’ said Coureton. ‘Its fortunes seem to have taken a turn for the worse. Sixty plough teams are recorded in 1066 but little more than a third of that number now survive.’
‘The town was much reduced in size in the wake of the Earl Ralph’s rebellion,’ explained Bigot. ‘Wymondham suffered more than most from that unfortunate business. But it still supports a few locksmiths and we spoke to all of them.’
‘Profitably, it seems.’
‘One was given a commission a fortnight ago to make two keys for a young man who wanted them in a hurry. The locksmith remembers how intense he was. The customer didn’t live in the town. He gave his name as Alstan.’
‘Alstan?’
‘But that was the name of the old man we met on our way here,’ remembered Ralph. ‘A slave from the lord Richard’s estate. Whipped and driven out.’
‘That’s perhaps where he got the name from,’ said Bigot. ‘The locksmith had the feeling that there was something odd about the man. But he did the work nevertheless and handed the two keys over to him. Alstan paid him and left.’
‘Did the locksmith give you a description of him?’
‘A good description, my lord. I think that the customer was Starculf.’
‘What was he doing in Wymondham?’
‘Having duplicates made of keys to the lord Richard’s estate. At least, that’s what I believe. The time is critical,’ reasoned Bigot. ‘Two weeks ago, the lord Richard was still in Normandy. That would have been the perfect time for someone to break into his house to borrow his keys. Starculf knew the premises well. He wanted the duplicates made in a hurry so that he could return the originals before the lord Richard came back.’
‘That makes sense,’ opined Coureton.
‘Not necessarily,’ said Ralph, slowly. ‘Consider his purpose. Starculf needed those duplicates so that he could have access to the house in order to kill Hermer. Why wait so long until he did so? Why not attack the steward when he returned the stolen keys to the house?’
‘Because Hermer wasn’t there, my lord.’
‘Where was he?’
‘Spending the night at the abbey in order to make off with the elephants. Before that, he was absent for some days, visiting his master’s estates in the hundreds of East Flegg and Walsham. Don’t you see?’ Bigot went on. ‘Starculf deliberately chose a time when neither the lord Richard nor his steward was at home.’
‘But how could he possibly know they’d both be absent?’
‘By waiting and watching. Starculf is a cunning man.’
‘I can appreciate that,’ said Ralph. ‘He must have guessed that you’d talk to all the locksmiths in Norwich so he had the work done some distance away. And now I come to think of it there’s another reason why he didn’t kill Hermer earlier.’
‘What is it, my lord?’
‘He wanted the lord Richard to be there. To be shocked by the discovery. To suffer. Look at the way he sent the steward’s hands back in a box. That, too, was meant as a taunt to his former master. The only thing I don’t understand,’ Ralph admitted, rubbing his chin, ‘is why he stole the elephants. Starculf couldn’t possibly have known they’d be in the house.’
‘There are lots of questions still to be answered,’ said Bigot, solemnly, ‘but I feel that the villain is now identified beyond any doubt. Starculf is the killer and he’s still somewhere in the county.’
‘Are all the main roads being watched?’
‘Yes, my lord. The net is closing in on him.’
The storm caught them in open country. Alerted by the first rumble of thunder, the posse increased its speed to a gallop as it tried to outrun the threatened downpour. No cover offered itself. A second rumble of thunder was followed by a flash of lightning that made the horses neigh and roll their eyes. Rain soon followed, a heavy, relentless, blinding downpour that soaked them within seconds and formed puddles on the track. The sheriff’s officers had an important task to do but they could not perform it in the middle of a thunderstorm. When a hamlet finally appeared ahead of them, they drew extra speed from their horses with a jab of their spurs. Bent low in their saddles, they rode on through the swirling rain and cursed aloud as another flash of lightning illumined their plight.
The man hiding in the ditch curled himself into a ball until all the horsemen had charged past. It was the third posse he had encountered in the past few hours. Travelling on foot slowed him down but it made it easier for him to move unseen in the ditches or behind hedgerows. He waited until the drumming of hooves was drowned out by another roll of thunder before he hauled himself out of the little stream that was forming around his ankles. Nobody would search for him in that deluge. It was a welcome friend. Lashed by the rain, Starculf broke into a loping run and headed due east.
Chapter Twelve
On the last stage of their journey back to Norwich, their luck finally ran out and they were soaked by torrential rain. Gervase Bret was not dismayed, feeling that his second visit to Olova was well worth being caught in a violent storm, but he was sorry that Golde had to suffer alongside him. It was some time before they could find shelter and it was far too late by then. They were well and truly sodden. Capricious clouds eventually cleared to allow the sun to peer inquisitively through but the damage had already been done. It was a wet and dispirited troop that Gervase led back into Norwich castle.
After conducting Golde to her apartment, he went off to change out of his damp clothing. Alys was waiting for him in their chamber. ‘Gervase!’ she exclaimed as he entered. ‘You’re dripping wet!’
‘I don’t need you to tell me that, Alys.’
‘You look as if you’ve been swimming.’
‘It felt rather like that.’
‘What happened?’
‘We were caught in the rain three or four miles south of here. The skies opened. It could have been worse, I suppose,’ he said, starting to take off his things. ‘We might have been drenched on the way there.’
‘Did you see Olova?’
‘We did.’
‘Were you able to get the information you wanted?’
‘I got even more than I dared to expect, Alys. I’m so glad I went back.’
‘And I’m so glad that I stayed here,’ she confessed, looking at his bedraggled condition. ‘It was a long day here but at least I was dry. We heard thunder in the distance earlier on. I was afraid that you’d get struck by lightning.’
‘I was,’ he said, fondly. ‘The day I met you.’
She moved in to give him a kiss then recoiled at the soggy touch of his apparel. Gervase laughed. While he continued to undress, she told him about the pleasant time she had spent with Brother Daniel during his absence and apologised for being so difficult when he insisted on travelling without her.