‘Good morrow, my lord,’ he said with muted respect.
‘Greetings, Thorkell. What brings you here so early?’
‘The grim tidings I received from your messenger.’
‘Yes,’ said Henry, ‘I am sorry I had to send such bad news. You must be very distressed by the death of your reeve.’
‘I am, my lord. Martin Reynard went missing and could not be found anywhere. We searched high and low for him. I knew that something dreadful must have happened. Only illness or accident would keep him from his duties. I am deeply upset at the loss of such a good man.’ His jaw tightened. ‘But I am also upset by the news that Boio the Blacksmith is suspect. Can this be true?’
‘It can.’
‘On whose authority has he been arrested?’
‘Mine.’
‘But why?’
‘I will not allow a murderer to remain at liberty.’
‘Boio is no murderer,’ spluttered the old man.
‘I disagree.’
‘He is the gentlest person on God’s earth.’
‘Not when he swings his hammer at an anvil. It is a violent trade and only a violent man could practise it with any success.’
‘You do not know the fellow as I do, my lord. Boio is a kind man, soft-hearted to a fault, friendly with everyone, not blessed with any great intelligence perhaps, but what he lacks in brains he makes up for with simple generosity.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘He is the last man I would suspect of such a crime.’
‘Nevertheless, he did commit it.’
‘Who says so?’
‘I do,’ said Henry, legs apart and hands on hips. ‘The evidence against him is too strong. I understand your disquiet. You have already lost your reeve and fear to lose your blacksmith as well but there is no remedy for it. Boio crushed Martin Reynard to death.’
‘I refuse to accept that.’
‘They were overheard having a heated argument.’
‘Many people argued with Martin. He was a forthright man.
That is what I liked about him. He spoke his mind. Martin was sometimes blunt with my subtenants and warm words were exchanged.’
‘Boio’s words were more than warm.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Two or three witnesses. They were near the forge at the time.’
‘Then they must have misheard him,’ said Thorkell defensively.
‘I have never seen Boio lose his temper. He may be as strong as an ox but he is also as docile as a rabbit.’
‘Not on this occasion, it seems.’
‘What possible motive could he have, my lord?’
‘Anger. Revenge.’
‘Boio is not an angry or vengeful man,’ reasoned the other.
‘And why should he kill my reeve when he knows how much trouble that would bring for me? Martin was to have appeared on my behalf before the royal commissioners. His death is a grievous loss. Boio would never inflict such a blow on me. He is too loyal.’
‘Rage takes no account of loyalty.’
‘You have arrested the wrong man, my lord.’
‘Have I?’
‘Release him at once, I beg of you.’
‘He must remain in custody until he stands trial.’
‘On such flimsy evidence as a quarrel?’
‘There is more to it than that, Thorkell,’ said Henry, tiring of the discussion and striving to bring it to an end. ‘On the morning when we found the body, Boio was seen leaving the part of the forest where Martin Reynard was later found.’
‘Seen?’
‘A mile or more away from his forge.’
‘By whom?’
‘A reliable witness.’
‘Am I to know his name?’ pressed the other.
‘Grimketel.’
‘Grimketel?’ Thorkell wrinkled his nose in disgust. ‘You rely on the word of a man like that?’
‘He reported what he saw.’
‘But he is feckless and untrustworthy.’
‘Others have a higher opinion of him.’
‘I would need a much more dependable witness than Grimketel.
Does Boio admit that he was in the forest at that particular time?’
‘No,’ said Henry, ‘but then I would not expect him to. What killer would readily incriminate himself? You tell me that this man is slow-witted but he has a low, animal cunning. When my men brought him here and challenged him about being seen in the forest, he swore that it could not have been him.’
‘Then it was not.’
‘Grimketel has taken his Bible oath.’
‘It must have been a case of mistaken identity.’
Henry gave a derisive laugh. ‘How could anyone mistake Boio?
No man in the county could pass for him. I am sorry, Thorkell.
Your journey has been in vain. The prisoner will not be released from my dungeon. I have still to interrogate him myself and I am sure that I will be able to get the full truth out of him.’ His face hardened. ‘One way or the other.’
‘I will not have the fellow tortured.’
‘Your wishes are of no account here.’
‘Boio answers to me.’
‘Not when he commits murder.’
‘The sheriff is the person who should conduct this investigation, not you, my lord. This is work for the sheriff or his deputy.’
‘Both are far away in Derbyshire,’ said Henry easily. ‘By the time they return, this whole matter will have been settled.’
‘Will you set yourself up as judge, jury and executioner?’
‘I will make a felon suffer the full penalty of the law.’
Thorkell fumed in silence and struggled to hold back the hot words which he knew would advantage nobody. Henry Beaumont was a power in the county, set, in all probability, to become its earl in time and having in his brother, Robert, an even more important political figure to support him. Both had the ear of the King. In estranging one brother, the old man would be creating an enemy of both and that would place him in a highly vulnerable position. Self-interest dictated a softer approach.
Thorkell took a deep breath and became more conciliatory.
‘I am sorry to rouse you from your bed so early, my lord.’
‘Another hour or two of sleep would not have come amiss.’
‘I am fond of Boio. Over the years he has given me excellent service. When I heard the news of his arrest I was shocked. I felt that I had to discover the true facts of the case.’
‘You have done so.’
‘I have heard your version of events, my lord, and I accept that it is a most persuasive one. Perhaps I have misjudged the man all this time. Perhaps he is capable of murder.’
‘He is. The proof lies in my morgue.’
‘I would still like to hear what Boio himself has to say. Let me talk to him, my lord. He would not lie to me. If he really is a killer, I will wrest a confession from him without recourse to threat or torture. And I will be the first to call for his execution.’
He extended a hand in supplication. ‘Please, my lord. Let me see Boio.’
‘No,’ said Henry.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I do not choose to let you.’
‘But I can speak to the man in his own language.’
‘That does not matter.’
‘Boio must be confused and frightened. He needs help.’
‘All that he needs is a rope around his neck,’ said Henry coldly.
Then he swung on his heel and marched back to the keep.
Chapter Three
Notwithstanding his largely sleepless night, Ralph Delchard made a prompt start the following morning. After an early breakfast with his fellow commissioners, he reclaimed Brother Benedict from the chapel, where the monk still prayed for the soul of the deceased man, then led them out of the castle on foot and into the town. Judicial investigations would not begin until the next day but it was felt important to study the relevant documents beforehand and to familiarise Philippe Trouville with the examining process. During the journey from Winchester both Ralph and Gervase had taken pains to instruct Archdeacon Theobald in what was expected of him and they had no qualms about his ability to discharge his duties fairly and efficiently but Trouville was as yet completely unschooled in the work he had to do. Ralph feared that he would be a less willing pupil than the archdeacon.