‘Hermer was a brutal man,’ said Starculf, bitterly, ‘and a lustful one at that. I tried to shut my eyes to his behaviour at first but it became too gross to ignore. So I spoke out against him. After what he did, Hermer didn’t deserve to live.’
‘So you wanted to kill him?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you planned to do so?’
Starculf hesitated. ‘It was always at the back of my mind,’ he said.
‘I think it was at the forefront,’ argued Ralph. ‘If you didn’t have designs on the man’s life, why go to the trouble of getting duplicate keys to the lord Richard’s house?’ The prisoner was startled. ‘Yes, my friend. A locksmith in Wymondham gave the lord sheriff a good description of you. On that occasion, you didn’t use your own name. You called yourself Alstan.’
‘That was the name of a slave on the estate, wasn’t it?’ said Gervase.
‘You know more than I feared,’ admitted the other. ‘Yes, I did have duplicate keys made and I did use Alstan’s name because I knew the man when I worked on the lord Richard’s estate. Alstan was shamefully treated by Hermer.’
‘Yet he didn’t return in order to murder him.’
‘Neither did I.’
‘Then why did you have those keys made?’
‘We’re going round in circles here,’ complained Vavasour, stepping forward. ‘Ask him all you wish but first let me have the elephants so that I can return them to the abbey at once. You owe me that, my lord,’ he said, looking at Ralph. ‘I led you here.’
‘That’s so,’ conceded Ralph. ‘Take your treasures, Jocelyn. You’ve earned them.’
‘Well?’ said Vavasour to the prisoner. ‘Where are they?’
‘What?’
‘The gold elephants you took from the lord Richard’s house.’
‘I took nothing.’
‘Blessed by the Pope himself,’ added Vavasour, ‘and presented by me to the abbey of St Benet at Holme. Now, don’t prevaricate, man. Where are they?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Starculf.
‘They’re hidden about you somewhere.’
‘Search me, if you wish, but you’ll find no gold elephants about my person. I’ve never laid eyes on such objects and I certainly didn’t take them from the lord Richard’s house. This is the first I’ve ever heard of them.’
Jocelyn Vavasour refused to believe him. Pulling him close, he subjected the prisoner to a thorough search, even to the extent of tearing off some of his clothing. Starculf bore it all with dignity. Nothing was found on him apart from some money. Ralph and Gervase were the first to accept that the prisoner was telling the truth.
‘Leave him alone,’ said Ralph. ‘He didn’t take them.’
‘I never went into the lord Richard’s house,’ Starculf insisted.
‘You must have!’ shouted Vavasour.
‘But I didn’t. I give you my word.’
Pushed almost to despair, the anchorite grabbed him and shook him violently. ‘I want those elephants!’ he cried. ‘Where are they?’
Long after Adelaide’s departure, Richard de Fontenel was still fuming with anger. The woman he had planned to marry had just walked decisively out of his life. When he looked around for solace, he found none at all. In the space of a few short days, he had suffered a series of disasters. His steward had been murdered, two valuable gold objects stolen from his strong room, one of his trusted servants unmasked as a spy in the pay of his rival and the lady Adelaide had rejected him outright. What pained him most was that the advantage had now been decisively handed to Mauger Livarot. Not only would the latter be able to rejoice in de Fontenel’s misfortune, he would probably wed the very person over whom the two of them had fought so long. It was intolerable.
After brooding on the malignancy of Fate, he was jerked into action. Since their origin had been revealed to the lady Adelaide, the recovery of the gold elephants no longer dominated his thinking. He would never get them back. Instead, he turned his attention to the capture of Hermer’s killer. There was more than theft and murder to lay at his door. In exposing the earlier theft from the abbey, the culprit had rendered de Fontenel liable to investigation himself and deprived him of the woman he had been tempted to take as his wife. He had caused acute embarrassment to someone who was accustomed to unquestioning respect. Certain that Starculf was responsible for his downfall, de Fontenel now wanted retribution. He called for his horse to be saddled and summoned his men. They were soon riding towards Norwich castle.
A mile down the road, they were met by the unlikely sight of an adipose man, panting and perspiring as he struggled to control a small, wayward horse. Richard de Fontenel brought his troop to a halt and stared in amazement at Judicael the Goldsmith.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.
‘I was on my way to see you, my lord,’ said the other, anxiously.
‘If it’s about that commission of mine, you’ve made a pointless journey. The items will no longer be needed, Judicael.’
‘I know. The order was cancelled earlier today.’
‘By whom?’
‘The lord Mauger.’
‘But it’s nothing to do with him!’
‘That’s what I told him.’
‘When?’
‘This morning, my lord,’ said the goldsmith, feeling his throat ruefully. ‘He came to my shop and demanded to know what you had commissioned from me. It seems that you were spotted visiting me yesterday.’
‘Mauger has intelligencers everywhere!’ growled the other.
‘I refused to divulge any information but he drew his dagger on me. I had to tell him the truth, my lord,’ he bleated, apologetically, ‘or he’d have used the weapon on me.’
‘You told him about my commission?’
‘Only under duress.’
‘You idiot!’ De Fontenel swung an arm and knocked Judicael from the saddle. After rolling in the dust, the man got up on his knees to implore mercy. His horse seized the opportunity to bolt.
‘What did you say to him?’
‘As little as possible, my lord. I swear it.’
‘I warned you to keep your mouth shut.’
‘The lord Mauger used violence against me.’
‘That’s nothing to what I’ll use,’ snarled de Fontenel. ‘And what’s this about the commission to make those replicas being cancelled?’
‘It was only your commission that was void,’ said Judicael, scrambling to his feet and clutching at de Fontenel’s leg. ‘The lord Mauger told me that you’d no longer have use for the objects, but there was a chance that he himself might need the replicas. If it proved necessary, he was going to employ me himself.’
‘What!’
Richard de Fontenel’s bellow made the goldsmith jump back in alarm. Spurring his horse into life, he led his men off at speed, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. Priorities had now altered. Instead of going to Norwich castle to berate the sheriff for his delay in bringing the killer to justice, de Fontenel concentrated his anger on his rival. He and his companions rode hell-for-leather towards the estate of Mauger Livarot.
Bruised and shaken, the hapless goldsmith started to search for his horse.
Mauger Livarot was also in the saddle. Accompanied by Drogo and with a dozen of his men at his back, he cantered over the gentle undulations of the Norfolk countryside in the direction of the coast. His steward was eager to claim his share of praise.
‘I told you that I spent money wisely on your behalf, my lord,’ he said.
‘You did, Drogo.’
‘I knew that it was worth having the lord Ralph followed.’
‘He’s a keener huntsman than Roger Bigot,’ said Livarot, eyes on the landscape ahead, ‘but will he lead us to the man we want? More to the point, will we be able to take those gold elephants for our own use?’
‘I hope so, my lord.’
‘I need more than hope.’
An expression of grim determination was on his face. Mauger Livarot did not give his promises lightly. Since the lady Adelaide had made a request, it had to be met. She could not be satisfied with mere replicas. The joy of possession weighed more heavily with her than the knowledge that she would be guilty of sacrilege. Provided that secrecy was maintained, she wanted the gold elephants that were taken from the abbey so that she could gloat over them in private. Both she and Livarot had endowed the monastic institution in the past. Perhaps the lady Adelaide felt that her generosity absolved her from the charge of receiving stolen property. It would be the second time that the treasures would be offered to her and Livarot vowed that it would be the last. He was thrilled that she had chosen the original objects over the possibility of replicas made by Judicael. It was not simply an indication of her superior taste. It revealed an unscrupulous vein in her that boded well for their marriage.