When Alan had finished, Richard looked away from him and toward the sheriff’s office.
“How could he be so stupid?” The contempt in his voice was withering.
Alan stared at his feet and said nothing.
Richard turned on his heel and started across the hall. “Come with me,” he said. Alan trailed behind him reluctantly. The last thing he wanted to do was accuse the sheriff of cheating the king out of his taxes.
They met Gervase in the hall outside his office door. “Come inside, Father,” Richard said. His words were a command, not a request. “There is something you need to know.”
Gervase glanced once at his son. Then, without speaking a word, he turned and went back into his office. Richard and Alan followed.
Richard closed the door and the three of them stood just inside it, Gervase and Richard facing each other, Alan a step behind Richard.
Gervase said calmly, “What is it, Richard? I am late as it is.”
“Alan,” Richard said. “Tell my father what you overheard.”
With his eyes focused on Gervase’s chest, Alan said in a colorless monotone, “I overheard Lord Hugh telling Bernard Radvers that he had discovered someone was overcharging for the market stalls in the Bail and not reporting it on the tax roll.”
Gervase didn’t make a sound. Alan glanced up at his face. The sheriff was gray.
“Is it true?” Richard’s voice was harsh. “I looked recently at the tax roll myself and it seemed to be in order, but if Hugh can bring witnesses to testify that what the merchants pay in rent is higher than what is being reported to the Exchequer…” His mouth set in a hard, grim line.
“Jesus wept,” Gervase said heavily. “How in the name of God did Hugh find this out?”
“It is true, then?” Richard demanded.
Moving as if he were eighty years old, Gervase went over to the backless bench that stood in front of one of the room’s chests and slowly lowered himself onto it.
“Aye,” he replied bleakly. “It is true.”
Richard’s fists clenched at his side. He cursed.
Gervase winced.
“Christ,” Richard said in a low, furious voice. “How could you be so stupid, Father?”
“I don’t know,” Gervase replied. He rubbed his eyes. “It was just so easy, Richard. I didn’t plan to do it when first I decided to rent out the Bail for market stalls. But, as I thought about it, I saw how easy it would be to take a piece of the rent for myself. The merchants would never know that what I collected from them was not what I declared on the tax rolls. And the Exchequer office was certainly not going to come to Lincoln to question everyone from whom I collected money for the king.” He shrugged wearily and repeated, “It was just so easy.”
“I saw Hugh talking to one of the merchants the other day,” Richard said grimly.
Gervase buried his face in his hands. Alan looked away. It was not pleasant to see a proud man like the sheriff brought so low.
“Cheating on the taxes is bad enough, but don’t you realize that this gives you a motive for killing Gilbert de Beauté?” Richard demanded.
At that, the sheriff lifted his head. “What are you talking about?”
“Suppose de Beauté discovered this cheat. Wouldn’t that be a reason for you to want him out of the way?”
“But he didn’t discover the cheat, Richard! I swear to you, he knew nothing about the stall rents.”
Richard said coldly, “Can you prove that?”
“Oh God.” Gervase’s eyes were full of despair.
Richard went on relentlessly. “You were the man de Beauté was supposedly going to meet in the Minster the night he was killed. Your stupid cheat has made it very easy for Hugh to maintain that you yourself were the one who gave the messages to be delivered to the earl and Bernard. Given this information about the stall rents, you have more of a motive for wanting de Beauté dead than Bernard does.”
Gervase stood up. “I didn’t do it,” he said. “You must believe me, son. I didn’t do it.”
“Oh, I believe you, Father.” Richard’s voice held more than a trace of sarcasm. “The question is, will the king’s chief justiciar believe you?”
Silence fell as father and son looked at each other.
Alan reluctantly decided that he had better tell Richard that the sheriff was not Hugh’s only suspect.
“My lord,” he said in a a low voice, “Lord Hugh thinks that you may be the one who is responsible for cheating on the stall rents.”
Richard’s head whipped around to look at his squire. “Me?”
“Aye, my lord. You know…you know how Lord Hugh does not like you…” Alan’s voice trailed away at the look on Richard’s face. He stared at his feet.
“How perfectly splendid,” Richard said with excoriating bitterness. “And did Hugh offer any reasons, beyond his dislike, for thinking me guilty of such a deed?”
With difficulty, Alan refrained from nervously shuffling his feet. “Well…he told Bernard that you appear to have a great deal of money. You keep a squire and have a nice horse and…” Alan’s voice petered out.
“I gave Richard the money for those things,” Gervase said strongly. “He is not implicated in this cheat in any way at all.”
“God damn it, Father,” Richard burst out. “What you stole was a pittance! How could you risk so much for so little?”
Alan blinked at this point of view.
For the first time since they had come into the office, Gervase actually looked at Alan. “Is Hugh prepared to bring this matter up before the chief justiciar?”
“I think so,” Alan replied unhappily. “He is determined to save Bernard from being convicted, and he thinks that this information will cast doubt upon Bernard’s guilt.”
“Did Hugh say anything else that might pertain to this case?” Richard demanded.
All Alan wanted to do was get away. He hesitated, looked into Richard’s angry eyes, and decided not to tell him what Hugh suspected in regard to John Rye. It could have nothing to do with either Richard or the sheriff, he assured himself.
“No, my lord,” he said in a subdued tone.
“Very well, Alan,” Richard said. “That will be all for now.”
“Aye, my lord,” Alan said, and backed up a step.
For the first time since Alan had broken the news about Hugh’s information, Richard’s face lost its hard, angry look. “I am sorry that you had to be involved in this sordid business, Alan.” Briefly he touched his squire’s shoulder. “But you were right to come to me.”
“Aye, my lord,” Alan gulped.
Richard smiled, the old intimate smile that always warmed Alan’s heart. “You won’t say anything to anyone else about this, will you?”
“Of course not, my lord,” Alan replied stiffly.
“Good lad.”
Alan nodded, backed up, turned, and thankfully made his escape.
Cristen accepted a cup of wine from Elizabeth de Beauté while Nicholas and Iseult sat like statues, side by side on a stool against the wall. Cristen had chosen to wait for Hugh here because it would be an easy place for him to find them, but she devoutly hoped he would not be long. Elizabeth de Beauté’s conversation was far too personal for Cristen’s taste.
Elizabeth smoothed her skirt and regarded Cristen with wide, feline eyes. “You don’t mind that Lord Hugh has made you nursemaid to his orphans?” she asked, glancing once at the two children huddled together near the door.
“I don’t mind at all,” Cristen returned, taking a small sip of her wine.
Elizabeth tapped long, elegant fingers on the arm of her chair. “I imagine you would do anything he asked of you,” she said next.
“Perhaps,” Cristen replied evenly.
Elizabeth’s green eyes glittered. “You must have been heartbroken when he promised to marry me.”