‘What happened when you reported finding Master Bellknapp’s body?’ I asked Humphrey in a low voice. ‘What was the reaction of the manor’s other inmates?’
‘Well, to begin with, only general consternation and wonderment as to how it could have happened, until George Applegarth — he and the receiver had pulled the body free of the weeds and on to the bank — turned him over and we discovered the great bloody contusion on the back of his head. Then, of course, there was uproar. Rose Micheldever had hysterics and even Mistress Bignell screamed. The men, well, I didn’t notice them too much, but Master Bignell, he looked sick and scared. I do remember that.’
‘And Dame Audrea?’
Humphrey shrugged, but his eyes narrowed malevolently. ‘Oh, she behaved as you would expect. She just stood looking at the body for a long time without a flicker of emotion, and then she said, “So! Somebody’s taken their revenge at last. I wondered how much longer we would have to wait.”’
I nodded, unsurprised. There was something implacable about Dame Audrea. Whatever she felt, whether it was elation or horror — and I suspected that in this case, dismay and fear would also play their part — she would never let it show.
‘What happened next?’
‘My master’s body was carried into the hall and laid on one of the trestles while the dame called all the officers of the household to the top table to consult them. There was a lot of talking and arguing, and while that was going on, I overheard Ronan Bignell telling someone that he and his parents thought they should leave the family to its grief — ha! — and would be on their way. As it’s Monday, the butcher’s stall should have opened long since: they would be losing precious custom. Unfortunately for them — the Bignells, I mean — Dame Audrea also heard what Ronan was saying and forbade them to go. Then she asked where you were, and seemed astonished to learn that you had already started on your way home. She said you were to be brought back immediately and that I was to ride after you; that you probably couldn’t have got far. I said wouldn’t it be better if I rode to Wells and fetched the sheriff’s officer? But she said no, she didn’t wish to involve the law unless it was absolutely necessary; and as we didn’t as yet know what had really happened, we didn’t know whether it was necessary or not. She thought you might be able to find out the truth.’
‘And did the others agree to this proposal?’
‘Most of them. They none of them wanted a lawman poking his long snout into the manor’s affairs. And with good reason. There was hardly one of ’em that hadn’t uttered threats against my master or wished him dead. Or something of the sort.’
‘Mind you, there’s safety in numbers,’ I remarked thoughtfully. ‘Whoever tries to discover the truth about Anthony Bellknapp’s death is going to have his pick of suspects.’ I added, ‘You said most of them were willing to accept Dame Audrea’s proposition that I should be fetched back to Croxcombe. Who disagreed?’
Humphrey suddenly looked uncomfortable. ‘No one disagreed exactly.’
‘What then? Exactly?’
‘We-ell, Simon, he thought you ought to be brought back, but only because-’
‘Because?’
Humphrey squirmed uneasily on his stool and refused to meet my eyes. ‘Because,’ he admitted at last, ‘Simon suggested you might be the murderer yourself.’
I was astounded. ‘And what does Master Simon suggest is my motive?’
‘I don’t think he’d thought about that. He was just out to make mischief.’
‘Or,’ I said slowly, ‘it was an attempt to discredit me because he has more to hide than the rest of them.’
‘He does have one arm in a sling,’ Humphrey reminded me, finishing his ale.
‘His left arm, and he’s right-handed.’ I leaned my elbows on the table and chewed one of my thumbnails. ‘This contusion on the back of Master Bellknapp’s head, would it have needed two hands to inflict it?’
Humphrey devoted at least half a minute’s consideration to the question before answering.
‘No, probably not. It could have been done one-handed with a sufficiently heavy cudgel or stick.’ He pushed aside his plate, sighing regretfully. ‘I can’t eat any more. I haven’t the heart. You can finish my beef if you want to.’
I took him at his word — I hate to see good food wasted — and suggested that he go and bring his horse around to the front of the inn while I settled up with the landlord. As we rose to our feet and emerged from our shadowy corner, it was obvious from the sudden hiatus in the general buzz of conversation that Josiah Litton had not been slow to spread the news of Anthony Bellknapp’s murder. I wondered how Dame Audrea imagined she could keep the matter quiet when it would be common knowledge in half the surrounding countryside by nightfall. But that was before I recollected the countryman’s deeply ingrained suspicion and avoidance of anyone in authority; his ability to clam up closer than an oyster and play the moonstruck fool in the presence of the law. Her elder son’s death might be the topic under discussion in many a wayside hovel by this evening, but Dame Audrea need have no fear that any word would reach the ears of those likely to view the matter in a serious light. I realized that after years of living in a city, I had almost stopped thinking like the country boy I really was.
By the time I had paid for our breakfast, Humphrey had returned to the aleroom, ready to leave. He had lost his initial pallor and was looking more like his normal cocky self, so I told him to ride on ahead and announce my return at the manor. (There are few things more undignified than loping along either beside or behind a horse, and being in the inferior position of having to look up at the rider.)
Once I had seen Humphrey on his way, I paused long enough to swallow another beaker of Josiah Litton’s excellent ale and to promise him that I would do my best to keep him informed of any developments, before gathering up my pack and winkling out Hercules from the Littons’ kitchen, where he was gnawing on a large mutton bone, given to him by Janet. Finally, I took my cudgel from the corner, where I had propped it on entering the inn, and emerged into the sunlight, directing my footsteps back the way I had come.
I had gone only a few paces, when I realized that I was holding my trusty ‘Plymouth Cloak’ upside down. (Now, you might think that there’s not much difference between one end of a stick and the other, but I had done what many people do; the old trick of splitting one end lengthwise for a matter of six inches or so, forcing the wood apart and filling the gap with melted lead. When this hardens, it makes the cudgel a more lethal weapon than before, but it also makes it top-heavy. The end with the lead in it is the end that you have to put to the ground, or the stick takes on a life of its own and bruises you in the chest and shoulder. I had had several one-sided struggles with mine after I had first performed the operation, but forgotten that I’d done it.) With a muttered curse, I reversed the cudgel, but as the weighted end swung in an arc towards the ground, I noticed a dark discolouration near its tip. I arrested its progress and pulled it back to eye level, my heart beating uncomfortably fast. And with good reason. A closer examination of the wood around the leaded end convinced me that it was stained with blood.
I must have covered the next mile in a daze, unaware of my surroundings or where I was going. It was more by luck than judgement that when I did finally pause to take stock of my surroundings, I found myself in a small clearing that I recognized from my outward journey as being not far from the main Wells to Bristol track. With a sense of relief, I sat down on a fallen tree trunk and thought seriously about what my unwelcome discovery might mean.
For a start, it could implicate me in Anthony’s murder. Indeed, if I looked at the evidence dispassionately, and if I didn’t know better, even I might be inclined to suspect myself. But that, of course, was nonsense. Apart from the fact that I had no motive, I knew I had slept soundly all the previous night, not waking until early this morning to a sensation of feeling sick and more than a little unwell.