‘Lockhart?’
‘He wasn’t out of the hostel. That’s the other thing. If whoever throttled Peg was connected with Annie’s family, he must have come out of the hostel, and the doctor told us he made certain the men were all asleep.’
‘And it was hardly Doctor Januar who did that,’ she said slowly, ‘since he knew well the girl was dead already. And then there is the door to consider. The door that went three times. Why three? Did two leave together and come back separately, or what?’
‘Ah, no,’ he said. ‘The door has been greased. It shuts quietly now. The hostel servants know nothing about it, it’s none of their doing. I suspect it was greased between the time the doctor left the hostel and the time he returned. It smells like mutton fat, and Bessie said they had mutton that night, and not since.’
‘Oh!’ she said. ‘So anyone could have gone out and back again, at any time in the night after that, except that they were all asleep in the men’s hall, and Dame Ellen was adamant nobody stirred out of the women’s hall. What a conundrum it is. Could it have been someone else entirely? Annie’s father’s kindred?’
‘Which is wide, by what I recall.’ Gil grimaced into the darkness of their curtained bed. ‘We need to ask more questions in the morning. I must get out to the hostel betimes, before the quest.’
‘I will come with you.’ She curled closer, and he rolled over to embrace her again, relishing the silky feel of her skin against his. All of plesur she is wrout, he thought. Her hand stirred across his chest, and halted again. ‘Gil,’ she began, and stopped.
‘What is it?’ he asked after a moment.
‘Yesterday,’ she said in a small voice, and then, ‘I should not tell you.’
‘Is it about Ealasaidh?’ he prompted, after another moment. She drew a tiny breath. ‘Jennet told me what she heard.’
‘You know.’
‘I know.’ He drew her into a tight clasp. ‘I’m here, sweetheart. We are together. We can weather this.’
She buried her face in his shoulder, and he felt her tears hot on his skin.
‘I know,’ she said, her voice muffled. ‘But oh, it is hard.’
The Castle courtyard was thronged and noisy with the Archbishop’s servants, making preparations for the arrival of King and court. The morning was sunny, with a brisk wind which added to the movement of the scene, snatching at plaids and gowns, sending litter whirling in corners. Otterburn, glumly surveying the bustle from the steps of his lodging, nodded to Gil as he approached, and raised his red felt hat to Alys.
‘Good day, mistress. I hear we’ve you to thank for finding the missing heiress.’ Alys curtsied acknowledgement of this. ‘I should take you on the strength, you’re worth any four o Andro’s lot. All I need now is to learn who killed the verger, and we’re done.’
‘What time is the quest?’ Gil asked. ‘Have I time to question the Muirs, and maybe Craigie and all?’
‘My lord’s dealing wi Craigie right now.’ Otterburn glanced at the sky. ‘It’s called for after Sext, you’ve an hour or two. I’ll ask you to go down to the cells, it’s ower busy above stairs here.’
Austin Muir was in a poor state for questioning. Dragged out of his cell with his chains clanking, he fell to his knees in the passageway saying,
‘Did he lift the curse, Maister Cunningham? Will you tell him to lift the curse? I’m no wanting snuffed out like the candle!’
‘If you confessed,’ said Gil, and took a step back as the manacled hands snatched at his gown. ‘As the Archbishop said last night, if you’ve confessed and repented, you’ll no be snuffed out, though you may hang for what you did.’
‘I had to do it!’ The man was snivelling. ‘She kept on at Henry, I’ll no let her flyte at Henry like that, I had to stop her.’
‘What was she on at Henry about? What was she saying to him?’
‘All sorts, she was saying, and none o it true. About he killed the lassie from the tavern and put her at the Cross, and where had he put Annie Gibb, and the like. None o it true, we was never near the Cross in the night. You’ll no let them snuff me out, maister, surely?’ The hands came up again, imploringly.
‘D’you want him taken into the light, Maister Cunningham?’ asked Andro, hauling the reluctant Austin to his feet. ‘There’s more light in the guardroom, and a table forbye. Come on, you. Gie’s a hand, Richie, he’s no for moving.’
More light did not improve the prisoner’s appearance. He had a black eye and a badly grazed jaw, and his velvet gown had suffered in the struggle to arrest him as well as in the cell overnight, with loops of braid hanging loose between the greenish patches of slime from the damp stonework. He crouched between the two men-at-arms, shivering, and said pleadingly,
‘I’m no wanting to be accursit, nor any o those things. You’ll tell them, maister, won’t you?’
‘The Archbishop said you confessed, Austin,’ said Gil. ‘Have you repented o what you did? Can you tell me what you ken about Dame Ellen?’
‘Dame Ellen! She was a wicked woman,’ said Austin. ‘She’d promised us all sorts, and land and money forbye, if we did her bidding, and none of it cam about. She cheated us, and then she called Henry sic names as there was no standing for it.’
‘What were you to do for her?’ Gil asked. Austin shook his head.
‘I canny mind. All sorts. We’d to take letters for her all across Ayrshire, to men o law, and ride in her escort when she cam to Glasgow, and make up to Annie Gibb. I didny like doing that, she wasny nice in her ways.’
‘Was that all you had to do?’ Gil asked, ignoring Andro’s snort of amusement.
‘She had us call at the hostel every day while she was there.’ The prisoner began rocking back and forward. ‘And then she’d more for us to do. She wanted us to go and see Annie Gibb in the night when she was tied up at the Cross, I’m right glad we never did that, we’d ha found the man that strangled her, maybe he’d ha strangled me. Or Henry. I was feart to go near it. Henry tellt her what was what about that, but she threatened him we’d never get the land nor the money.’ The rocking intensified. ‘And now see what’s come o’t all, we’ve neither land nor money nor Annie Gibb and I’m to be curst like a jackdaw.’
‘Austin,’ said Gil. He hunkered down, to look into the man’s face. ‘Is that all you did for her? You killed nobody for her?’
‘Killed? No.’ Tears were dripping onto the ruined gown. ‘Who would we kill for her? Mind, she asked us to, she wanted Annie Gibb slain, seeing we wouldny wed her, so her lands would all go back to the family they cam from, but Henry tellt her no, we wereny getting caught up in sic a thing.’ Austin’s manacled hands came forward again in appeal, reaching for Gil’s arm. ‘Maister, will you tell him to lift the curse? I’m no wanting to be snuffed out like yon candle.’
‘Has he seen a priest the day?’ Gil asked Andro.
‘No yet. There’s been no word about what to do wi him.’
‘He might make better sense if he was confessed again.’ Gil disengaged himself and straightened up, looking down at the rocking prisoner. ‘Take him away. I’ll speak to my lord about a priest for him.’
Henry Muir was even less helpful. Rather more resilient than his brother, he was resentful rather than tearful, but it seemed to Gil he was frightened too. As well he might be; he faced death or imprisonment for his part in two killings, and a heavy penance from the church. He was disinclined to answer questions, nevertheless, even those relating to his signed confession.
‘I can see you were protecting your brother,’ Gil said at length, ‘and he was protecting you. But you could help me now, at no cost to yoursel, and maybe do yoursel some good as well.’
Henry gave him a sour look, and shrugged one shoulder so that his chains clattered.
‘Will I get the pilliwinks heated?’ suggested Andro hopefully. ‘Or the boot, maybe?’
‘What’s this about taking letters across Ayrshire for Dame Ellen?’ Gil asked, ignoring this. ‘D’you ken what she wrote in them?’