Ralph shot Gervase a covert look, unnoticed by the others.
‘If that is what he did, Canon Hubert,’ said Querengar.
‘Can you offer another explanation?’
‘No, but having met you and seen what upright men you clearly are, I am sure that you will find that explanation.’ There was no hint of flattery in his comment. ‘What else do you wish to ask me?’
‘Nothing at this point,’ said Ralph, ‘but we will need to call you before us again. I take it that you are remaining in the city?’
‘Yes, my lord. Nigel the Reeve knows where I stay.’
‘Then we can thank you for your testimony and bid you good day.’
During a flurry of farewells, Querengar the Breton struggled to his feet and used the crutches to propel himself towards the door. Gervase had to control the urge to offer his help. He admired the man, not least because of his own Breton ancestry, but he felt there was something missing from Querengar’s deposition.
Strang the Dane and Hamelin of Lisieux had said far too much.
Their rival was more economical with his words and less grandiose in his claims. It remained to be seen how the Archdeacon of Gwent measured against the others, but that treat, it soon transpired, would have to be postponed.
Nigel the Reeve made one of his ostentatious entrances.
‘I fear that I bring bad news,’ he announced, striding towards them. ‘Abraham the Priest has been unaccountably delayed and will not be here before nightfall.’
‘We are ready to examine him now,’ said Ralph.
‘That will not be feasible, my lord.’
‘Did you not summon him in time?’
‘Of course. He had ample warning.’
‘Yet he fails to present himself on the appointed day. What are we to make of this?’ he asked, turning to his colleagues. ‘Is this a deliberate attempt to flout our authority or is the Archdeacon of Gwent so absent-minded that he forgot that he was due in Gloucester today?’
‘You will have to ask him,’ suggested Nigel.
‘Not if it means sitting on our arses in here until it grows dark,’ said Ralph sourly, rising to his feet. ‘We will have to delay the ambiguous pleasure of making his acquaintance until tomorrow.’ He glared at Nigel. ‘See that he presents himself here when the abbey bell rings for Prime.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘If he does not, he will not be heard at all.’
‘I will emphasise that to him,’ said Nigel, turning to leave.
‘One moment,’ called Ralph, checking his departure. ‘Hamelin of Lisieux was here earlier and seemed to know that Abraham the Priest was now included in this dispute, a fact of which the other two claimants were noticeably ignorant.’
‘What point are you trying to make, my lord?’
‘That you disclosed privileged information to Hamelin.’
A curled lip. ‘Did I?’
‘He probably knew about the archdeacon before we did.’
Nigel was unruffled. ‘Does that matter?’
‘Yes,’ said Ralph angrily. ‘You are there to serve us, not to show favour towards someone who is due to appear before the commission. Impartiality is our touchstone and it should be yours as well.’
‘It always is, my lord.’
‘Not in this case. What else did you tell Hamelin of Lisieux?
What other unfair advantage did you give him over his rivals?
Are all your dealings based on whispered warnings to your friends?’
‘I deny that I have done anything wrong,’ said Nigel haughtily.
‘Please excuse me while I attend to more pressing matters.’
‘I’ll give him pressing matters!’ growled Ralph as the reeve went out of the door. ‘I’ll press that stupid head between my hands until his eyes pop out! I’ll wager he told Hamelin who sat on the commission and how best he could win us over.’
‘By dangling his pretty wife in front of you,’ said Hubert sharply.
‘Come, Brother Simon,’ he added before Ralph could reply, ‘we must take advantage of this early end to our deliberations. If we hurry back to the abbey, we may be in time to attend the funeral of Brother Nicholas.’
Gathering up their belongings, they exchanged farewells with their two colleagues and bustled out of the hall. Ralph was still fuming in silence. Gervase searched in his satchel.
‘Canon Hubert is right,’ he said, taking out a small parchment.
‘We must put aside our own concerns and think of Brother Nicholas instead. Here is the list of tenants you requested from Abbot Serlo,’ he continued, holding it up. ‘Why do we not make best use of this unexpected freedom and ride out to the holding last visited by Brother Nicholas?’
‘I am not in the mood for social visits.’
‘Then I will go alone, Ralph.’
‘Do so.’
‘I feel that it’s important.’
‘Wait,’ said his friend as Gervase was about to move off. ‘Forgive my choler. Our royal reeve made my blood boil with his impudence.
You are right, Gervase. This matter must be pursued. Besides, a ride will help to clear my pounding head. Instead of contemplating murder, as I am doing now, I will be more usefully employed trying to solve one.’
‘Try to forget Nigel the Reeve.’
‘I will, Gervase, and I’m sorry to be so churlish.’
‘Turn your thoughts elsewhere.’
Ralph grinned. ‘I will. To the lady Emma. She was an angel. I could have sat there and looked at her all day.’
‘That was her husband’s intention. Let us go.’
Abbot Serlo opened the neck of the pouch and tipped its contents on to the table in his lodging. Even though he knew what to expect, Brother Frewine was duly surprised. The hoard was far bigger than he had imagined. The abbot reached down to pick up a handful of coins.
‘New-minted here in Gloucester.’
‘How much is there, Father Abbot?’
‘The amount is immaterial,’ said the other, dropping the coins back on to the pile. ‘The fact of its existence is shocking enough.
Is this what you hoped to find when you searched Brother Nicholas’s cell?’
‘I hoped to find nothing at all.’
‘But you sensed that you might. I am grateful to you, Brother Frewine. Your instinct was more reliable than my own. I was foolish enough to think that I had established complete discipline in the abbey and that all the monks were wholly committed to our common purpose. Obviously,’ he said, his voice heavy with sadness, ‘I was mistaken. Brother Nicholas rebelled against my leadership.’
‘It may look that way, Father Abbot.’
‘No other conclusion can be drawn. A hoard of coins was found hidden in his cell. Private possessions are strictly forbidden by the rules of the Order.’ He pointed at the table in disgust. ‘What use is money to a Benedictine monk? How could it be spent?’
‘On the abbey, perhaps,’ said the Precentor tentatively. ‘Who knows? Could not Brother Nicholas have been saving it up in order to present it to us?’ He saw the disbelief on the other’s face. ‘No, probably not. I just hate to assume the worst about our dear departed brother, especially when his funeral is shortly to take place.’
‘You are a kind man, Brother Frewine,’ said the abbot, ‘and always search for the goodness in human beings. But the evidence is too overwhelming. Brother Nicholas betrayed his vows. Though we will mourn his death, we must also ask one of the questions it leaves behind him.’
‘What is that, Father Abbot?’
‘Where on earth did this money come from?’
‘I think that we can both hazard a guess at the answer.’
‘The rents?’
‘How else? Brother Nicholas must have been overcharging our tenants, entering the correct payments in the accounts and keeping the difference for himself.’
Serlo shook his head. ‘Look at the coins.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They are fresh from the mint. Which of our tenants has shiny new coins in his pocket? They usually pay us in old and battered coinage with hands made filthy by work on the land. And there is another thing,’ he said wearily. ‘Tenants are quick to complain.