‘Who was in the cottage when you came back?’ I asked.
She frowned. ‘Let me see. . Yes, Cicely was here, fast asleep in the armchair, and that fellow’ — she indicated Peter Littleman — ‘was seated on a stool, his back propped against the wall, facing the foot of the bed. His companion came in a few moments later.’
‘Call of nature,’ Jack Gload explained coyly, obviously not wishing to offend sensitive female ears with his customary forthright language.
‘You’re sure of all this, Sister?’ Timothy demanded bluntly.
Before she could reply, Cicely confirmed, ‘Sister Jerome and the two sheriff’s officers were present when I woke up a few minutes later.’
‘You haven’t mentioned the doctor,’ I pointed out.
‘Oh, he’d come outside with — uh — me,’ Jack Gload admitted. ‘Same reason.’
‘Contest, was it?’ grunted Timothy. ‘Who could piss the highest?’ He was never one to consider female susceptibilities. He motioned with his head for Richard and me to follow him out of the cottage. ‘Well,’ he continued, when we had moved beyond earshot of those still inside, ‘it’s checkmate. I feel pretty certain our man was murdered, but I don’t see how unless someone is lying. According to the doctor, the Breton was on the road to recovery and had opened his eyes for a second time not long before you and I arrived, Sergeant. Unfortunately, I can’t stay to investigate the matter. I must return to London as soon as possible and report to the King.’ His voice was full of suppressed rage, but he knew that the initial mistake had been made by his own men in half-killing the stranger, instead of just arresting and securing him. He must realize, too, that it was only their violence that had made me go to the Breton’s assistance, so forbore to reproach me, as I had been half-expecting him to do. Timothy Plummer had always been just.
‘I suppose, now, you have no means of telling whether or not he was the Tudor spy you were warned about?’ I asked.
Timothy shook his head. ‘No. And there was nothing in his satchel or in any of his pockets to indicate so much as his name, let alone his business here. Just his knife for shaving, a change of clothes and a second, stronger-bladed knife for protection, such as any traveller might carry.’
‘What about the people he called on?’ I queried. ‘Jasper Fairbrother’s dead, of course, but there’s Robin Avenel and the man’s contact, whoever he may be, at Westbury College. Can nothing be got from them?’
‘Without confirmation that this man is the spy we’re looking for, what proof have we got that they’ve done anything wrong?’ Timothy gritted his teeth. ‘The whole affair has been botched from start to finish. But at least it’s alerted us to a couple of possible traitors in our midst.’ He glared at the hapless Richard Manifold. ‘I trust, Sergeant, that in the future you’ll be keeping a close eye on both this Robin Avenel and the inhabitants of Westbury College!’
Richard muttered something under his breath about bringing them in for questioning and, in his turn, glared at me. I knew who he blamed for all his present woes.
‘Well,’ Timothy sighed, ‘I shall make my report to the sheriff and then I must set out for London without more delay. And I shall be taking that pair of bumbling idiots with me, you’ll be happy to hear.’
We were in no doubt as to which bumbling idiots he meant, and Richard looked relieved at the prospect of being shot of them.
‘If only the sheriff had been apprised earlier of the spy’s probable arrival in Bristol,’ he said, trying to reapportion some of the blame, ‘instead of learning of it from your two bravos, we might have stood a better chance of arresting him before he quit the city.’
So that was how Richard and his superiors had found out; and it had been my remarks about a stranger from a Breton ship visiting Jasper Fairbrother that had alerted them to the fact that the man might already have evaded their clutches. As Timothy had remarked, a botched job from beginning to end, born of the secrecy and reluctance to communicate that was, in my experience, typical of those in authority.
Richard’s last words had given my conscience a nudge, and I felt it my duty to put in a final word in defence of the dead man.
‘Let me remind you once again, Sergeant, that I can produce witnesses to prove that our unknown in there — I jerked my head towards Cicely’s cottage — left Bristol on Monday evening and did not return. He is therefore not the person you are seeking in connection with Master Fairbrother’s murder.’
Richard grunted morosely, and I could tell that his interest in the case was cooling now that he could no longer blame the stranger. And his anxiety to prove the Breton’s guilt had really had nothing to do with finding the baker’s killer, so I couldn’t see him pursuing the enquiry with any great enthusiasm. There were too many suspects. I guessed that he and the sheriff would eventually agree to let the matter drop, just another of the many unsolved crimes that plagued all big towns and cities.
Timothy said abruptly, ‘I must be off if I want to be at least halfway to London by nightfall. I have to collect my two heroes from the castle and then hire horses for them — at my own expense,’ he added furiously. ‘If those parsimonious bastards in London had thought to mount them before they set out, you’d have received the news of our gentleman’s arrival much earlier. My Lord of Gloucester wouldn’t have been so penny-pinching.’ He added reluctantly, ‘But I suppose the King has many calls on his purse. I know he dislikes squandering money, and keeps a tight curb on his household expenses. Fair enough, but the trick is to know when to slacken the reins.’ With which embittered speech, he bade Richard and me a curt goodbye and strode away down Saint Michael’s Hill.
Richard turned to me. ‘That’s it then, Chapman. You can be off about your business and leave me to mine. There’s nothing here now for you to do.’
I wasn’t so sure about that. I should have liked a few more words with Jack Gload and Peter Littleman, not to mention Cicely Ford and Marion Baldock. I also wanted another look at the corpse, but I knew there was no chance of me poking and prying about with Richard watching. Besides, it was well past my dinnertime and I was hungry.
I went home to be met by a strong smell of burning, a mad frenzy of affection from the dog, indifference from Nicholas and Elizabeth and a slightly sour smile from my overwrought and put-upon wife. Adam, praise the Lord, was asleep.
‘Roger,’ Adela said firmly, without even pausing to acknowledge my greeting, ‘if we are to keep Hercules as a part of the family circle — and you know my views on that — you will have to assume responsibility for him. I cannot manage a baby, two small children and a dog while shopping.’ She turned to face me, obviously bracing herself for a confession. ‘I lost Adam while we were in the market this morning. I let go of the handle of his cart for a few seconds while I paid for some meat, and when I looked round, he had vanished. Neither of the children had noticed anything, because they were too busy playing with Hercules. Luckily,’ she hurried on, before I could say anything, ‘Jenny Hodge was buying fish at the next stall and had seen what had happened. She shouted to me that Jane Overbecks had taken him and which way she had gone. Jenny stayed with Nick and Bess while I ran after Jane. The crowds were so thick, she hadn’t got far. To be fair to her, I don’t think she realized what a fright she’d given me or that she was doing anything wrong. But I repeat, I cannot manage a dog as well as the children.’
She looked as though she were about to burst into tears, which she did as soon as I walked over and folded her in my arms.
‘I’m so sorry, Roger! So sorry,’ she mumbled wetly against my shoulder.
‘Sweetheart,’ I protested, ‘I’m the one who should be sorry for being so thoughtless. In future, Hercules will come with me.’ I forced up her chin and tasted her salt tears as I kissed her eyes and lips, steadfastly ignoring the embarrassed giggling behind me. Now, of course, was the time to admit my lapse with Cicely Ford, but somehow it didn’t seem quite the appropriate moment. So I said nothing and held her tightly until she was calm again. ‘I love you,’ I whispered.