‘It’s the pedlar,’ she hissed over her shoulder. ‘Shall I let him in?’
Three more girls crowded round, giggling. ‘We ought not,’ said a freckle-faced beauty with sapphire-blue eyes. ‘Haven’t you heard, chapman? Master Avenel’s dead. Murdered.’
‘That’s why I thought you might need cheering up,’ I lied.
After a whispered consultation, they decided that perhaps they had better not let me in. The housekeeper, who it seemed was at present closeted with Mistress Alefounder, was a dragon who would probably dismiss them on the spot if they did. But they showed no signs of wanting me to leave, and three of them jostled for position in the open doorway, having detailed the smallest and youngest girl to keep watch for the dragon’s return. I crouched down and spread my open pack on the ground, although I guessed they had little money to spend.
‘How is Mistress Avenel bearing up in these fearful and tragic circumstances?’ I enquired. ‘It must be a terrible day both for her and for Mistress Alefounder.’
The freckle-faced girl sniffed. ‘Well, I suppose it was a shock for them both when Sergeant Manifold called round this morning to break the news. It was a shock for all of us if it comes to that. Dame Dorothy couldn’t speak for a full ten minutes. Longest any of us can remember her holding her tongue.’
Her two companions sniggered. The snub-nosed girl with a cast in one eye remarked nastily, ‘The old dragon fancied ’im, you know — the master, I mean, though ’eaven knows why. It’s more ’n the mistress did.’ There was another explosion of laughter, hastily suppressed.
‘Not a happy marriage, then?’ I suggested.
The tallest of the maids, a plain, dour girl with a small, set face, who smelled faintly and pleasantly of lavender, snorted her agreement. She had a brighter, more intelligent look than her companions, and giggled less.
‘According to my mother, it was a marriage arranged by their fathers,’ she said. ‘But Ma always reckoned it was never going to work. She says Master Robin could never put up with a wife who’s prettier than himself … Who was prettier …’ she amended, her voice suddenly tailing off.
Her companions laughed, then sucked in their breath as the realization of their master’s death began to sink in. But the pause was only momentary. The next minute, they were rummaging in my pack, searching for something they could afford to buy. I let them get on with it and addressed myself to the tall girl.
‘Mistress Avenel isn’t as upset as she might be, then, about her husband’s murder?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ she whipped back at me. ‘Murder’s a shocking thing, when all’s said and done.’
‘Very true … So how has Mistress Alefounder borne the news?’
The girl looked uncomfortable, plainly wondering if she should even be discussing the matter, let alone advancing an opinion. She cast another glance across her shoulder, but the little kitchen maid called Bet indicated that there was as yet no sign of the housekeeper’s return. Reassured, Jess made the decision to take me into her confidence.
‘Mistress Alefounder’s upset, all right, though she ain’t the sort to do a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth. She don’t put on a show for other people’s benefit, nor does she give them what they expect to see. There’s been visitors a-knockin’ at the door all morning, but she’s the one who’s received ’em. Mistress Avenel’s been laid down on her bed, the chamber shutters closed, pretending she’s too afflicted even to accept condolences.’
The other two girls, their attention caught, sat back on their heels to listen. The freckle-faced one laughed.
‘Miaow! Miaow! You always did fancy that Luke Prettywood yourself, didn’t you, Jess?’
Jess coloured up to the border of her linen cap, but, to her credit, ignored the jibe.
‘You were saying? About Mistress Alefounder?’ I prompted her.
She rubbed her nose reflectively. ‘Like I told you, she’s upset all right. But … Well … I’d say she’s as much angry as tearful. Old Master Avenel come round this morning. Now he was in a state, and no mistake. But it didn’t stop Mistress Alefounder shouting at him. We all heard her. Couldn’t help ourselves. “The fool,” she was saying. “Picking a quarrel with that Burl Hodge! Thinking himself better than other people. I warned him no good would come of it.”’
I bit my lip. ‘You’re sure that’s what she said?’
‘Oh yes,’ the snub-nosed girl confirmed. ‘The kitchen door was open and she and old Peter Avenel were stood in the hall.’
This was bad news as far as Burl was concerned. If this were to be cited in evidence — and there was no doubt that Richard Manifold, in his slow but thorough way, would get around to questioning members of the Avenel household when he considered the time was right — it would make the case against him appear even blacker.
‘I’ll tell you something odd, though,’ Jess remarked suddenly.
I rose, rubbing my aching thighs. ‘What?’ I asked hopefully.
‘She’s coming,’ squeaked our lookout as she scuttled back to the kitchen table to resume her pastry-making.
Snub-nose and Freckle-face joined her, the first to chop herbs, the second to pound strips of meat into submission with a wooden mallet. But Jess, my informant, was made of sterner stuff.
‘Tell her I’m in the jakes,’ she hissed, pushing me backwards and resolutely shutting the kitchen door behind us.
She helped me bundle my goods into my pack, then led me round to the other side of the privy, out of sight of the kitchen.
‘What did you want to tell me?’ I urged again, as she once more appeared to hesitate.
‘Well … it’s nothing much, really. It’s just that I was the one who opened the door to Sergeant Manifold this morning. It was very early, not long past cockcrow. He told me to wake the mistress and the master’s sister and fetch ’em downstairs as he had some very bad news to tell them. Which of course I did … But then I hung about trying to hear what it was he had to say.’ Jess blinked guiltily.
‘A very natural thing to do,’ I consoled her.
‘Yes … well … that’s as maybe.’ She was nobody’s fool, this girl. ‘I followed Mistress Avenel and Mistress Alefounder downstairs and then just stood there instead of going back to the kitchen. They forgot about me, you see, but I had a clear view of both of them as the sergeant broke the news of the master’s murder …’ Jess drew a deep breath. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I know Burl Hodge has been arrested, and I know your reputation in this town. I know, if the others don’t, why you’ve come snooping around here this afternoon, pretending to peddle your goods. I know what you’re up to.’ She knew altogether too much, this one. ‘So you must understand that what I’m going to say is only a feeling on my part. Nothing more.’
‘I accept that,’ I said gently. ‘But tell me all the same.’
She nodded. ‘It’s just … Well, I just had the impression that the news wasn’t as great a shock to either of them as they tried to make out. Oh, they put on a brave show,’ she added with a cynical little smile, ‘and it fooled the sergeant and Dame Dorothy, Mistress Hollyns and the rest of the servants, who all came running to see what the noise was about. Mistress was shrieking fit to waken the dead and Mistress Alefounder was white as a ghost, but …’ Jess broke off, shrugging.
‘But it didn’t fool you. Why not?’
She chewed her bottom lip, struggling to frame an answer.
‘They … They accepted what they’d been told too readily. There was … What can I say? There was no disbelief. Does that sound silly?’ I shook my head. She continued, ‘If someone told me something like that, they’d have to tell me two or three times before I could take it in. And there was another thing. One of them — but I can’t be certain now which of them it was — said something about blood. But I’d swear no one had mentioned then that the master had been stabbed. “Murdered”, was all the sergeant had said. But … Well … I could be wrong. He didn’t seem to pick it up. Or if he did, he didn’t seem to think it of any importance.’