‘And I could leave Canterbury for Suffolk just like that?’ Hubert waved a hand, his voice betraying his growing desperation: ‘Go here, there?’
‘Of course you could, Master Hubert. You are a master of disguise, a man of wealth, of status. You have no family, no wife, no maids or servants. No one has a clear description of you. Master Lechlade was always there to protect your back. So yes, when you were not pretending to be a physician in Canterbury, you made the occasional journey into Suffolk, your heart set on finding that treasure. Griskin found that out; perhaps not the full truth, but certainly enough information to threaten you, so you killed him. You enjoy such games, don’t you? You like hunting men down. Griskin, me, Paulents and his family, we are just quarry in your eyes. You love giving yourself titles, sending out warnings; such power of life and death gladdens your heart!’
‘And Sir Rauf Decontet?’
‘Oh well, you had matters to settle with Sir Rauf, and what better time than when his wife was out playing the whore with Wendover. Again time was pressing. Paulents was coming to England, Decontet had that map. Lechlade undoubtedly found out about Stonecrop. He’d certainly have been aware of Lady Adelicia’s furtive searches for the Cloister Map. Sometime on Thursday, the Feast of St Ambrose, he informed you that Lady Adelicia was leaving for one of her trysts with Wendover. You decided to visit Sir Rauf. Lechlade joined you. You bustled into the chamber in your role as Decontet’s physician. Once inside, however, you locked the door and, assisted by Lechlade, tied Sir Rauf down in his chancery chair. I felt the marks of the rope on the wood beneath the quilted arm of that chair. You see,’ Corbett patted his own arm, ‘Sir Rauf was probably wearing a padded jerkin against the cold. The rope wouldn’t show on his wrists, you’d be careful about that, but it did on the wood of the arms of the chair as he strained against his bonds.
‘You questioned Decontet about what had happened to your brother. You taunted him. You demanded the Cloister Map, but of course that map no longer existed, did it? Sir Rauf, clever man, had memorised it carefully and burnt it. Oh yes, Master Hubert,’ Corbett smiled, ‘I never found any map. By now Lady Adelicia must have realised that. She’ll have rushed into her late husband’s chancery, only to discover no secret pocket in the quilted seat of that chair. Eventually you and Lechlade concluded that Decontet could not, or would not, tell you anything, so you killed him with a swift blow to the back of his head. You laid his corpse out, took his keys and locked the chancery chamber. Later on, after Parson Warfeld had arrived and the door had been forced, you secretly replaced the keyring. The good parson, distracted by Decontet’s death and the administration of the last rites, simply saw what you wanted him to witness. I suspect that you or Lechlade replicated that small ring of keys, placing a similar one on his belt while you held the true one. You used these to lock the chamber after you opened Adelicia’s, then, during the chaos that followed the forcing of Decontet’s chamber, secretly replaced them.
‘Once Decontet was dead, you left his chamber, but not before you had taken some napkins and stained them with his blood. Going up to Lady Adelicia’s chamber, you unlocked the door, placed one bloodied napkin on the floor and the rest behind the bolsters. Later on you’d incriminate Lady Adelicia further: she’d left her cloak in the chancery chamber, an easy target for Lechlade to smear with blood when everybody else was distracted. You also used what time you had to search that house thoroughly. Ranulf noticed how things had been moved, but to your anger and frustration, no Cloister Map was found.
‘The day was passing. The one person you and Lechlade had overlooked was Berengaria. Everybody makes mistakes, Hubert, even you with your far-seeing gaze. You must have been furious with Lechlade: he had not learnt of the maid’s secret trysts with her master; she and Decontet had been very careful. Anyway, Berengaria came tripping back and saw something untoward involving you. Perhaps she saw you actually in the house when you later pretended to be locked outside. She also deceived me. She never actually approached the manor; she saw what she did from a distance, then fled back to Canterbury. Later on she decided to use her knowledge to blackmail you, the wealthy physician. Of course, she didn’t perceive the full truth; just enough to upset your story. Nor did she want to explain to anyone else why she had returned home that Thursday afternoon. When we were all at Sweetmead, she probably hinted at blackmail. Of course, by then she had moved chambers from Decontet’s household to Parson Warfeld’s, where again, her skill in certain sexual matters advanced her cause. Naturally Parson Warfeld would ask for the proprieties to be observed so people wouldn’t hint or gossip about scandal. Accordingly Berengaria attended daily Mass. The parson would read the Gospel and, as is the custom, deliver a short homily on it. Now a few days ago, during the very time Berengaria was staying with Parson Warfeld, the Gospel passage was about Jesus’ return to his home town of Nazareth, Our Saviour expressed his astonishment at the lack of faith of his fellow citizens in an enigmatic remark. You must recall it?’
‘Physician, heal thyself.’
‘Precisely. Berengaria, no Scripture scholar, was quick-witted enough to realise how such a phrase could also be applied to you, Master Hubert, and what truly happened on that fateful afternoon. Is that what she whispered to you at Sweetmead? “Physician, heal thyself”? That is why she scrawled the word “Nazareth” on her chamber wall, as an aid, a prick to her memory.’
‘But I was with Parson Warfeld when she was killed.’
‘Oh yes.’ Corbett eased himself back. ‘Worried about the souls of your dead parents. Did you take the name of Desroches, not only because of its links with that lonely hermitage but also because there was no one of that family alive in Canterbury to contradict you?’
‘I was with Parson Warfeld!’
‘But Lechlade wasn’t. Most of the time he acted the drunken sot. However, when I questioned him at Sweetmead, my first suspicions were roused. Lechlade leaned across the table. On his breath I could smell the stew Ranulf had cooked, but no ale, yet he acted as if he was drenched in beer. On the morning Berengaria died, you distracted Parson Warfeld and took him away; Lechlade followed you. Lady Adelicia despised him. What would she care about his movements, slipping in and out of Sweetmead? The guards at the front of the manor were also there to watch the lady of the house, not her sottish servant. On that morning Lechlade furtively slipped into St Alphege’s and Berengaria was quickly garrotted, her mouth closed for ever.
‘Two killers must have been involved. You used that to protect yourself. When Berengaria was murdered, you were with Parson Warfeld. When Sir Rauf Decontet was found, you couldn’t get through locked doors because Lechlade was asleep. No one could suspect you, especially when you called for Parson Warfeld to act as your witness. The same is true of other attacks. When I was journeying back from Maubisson to St Augustine’s, a secret assassin loosed crossbow bolts at us from the trees. How could I suspect Physician Desroches? He was with me? It must be someone else. In truth it was Lechlade, who was also responsible for that warning bolt loosed at the shutters of my chamber as you were leaving the abbey. Strangely enough, by sheer coincidence, you were with Ranulf and Chanson in the refectory below when I came up to my chamber. If it hadn’t been for the good Lord and our guest master, I would have drunk the tainted wine Lechlade undoubtedly arranged to be left outside. You insisted on accompanying us from Sweetmead. Lechlade secretly went ahead to prepare the poisoned wine, but it was a hasty job. Unable to use jugs from the abbey kitchen, he supplied his own, and of course, our guest master knows exactly to the last porringer what items are his and what belongs elsewhere.’ Corbett paused. ‘The same happened when I was attacked in the cloisters. You and Parson Warfeld were visiting the abbey. Our good priest definitely had business here, and so had you: the news about Lady Adelicia being enceinte. You decided to exploit that. You stayed with Ranulf and Chanson, Parson Warfeld went about his business, so who was lurking in the cloisters waiting for me to leave the abbey church after Vespers?’ Corbett glared at this man who’d plotted so assiduously against him. ‘Why, Master Lechlade, your silent, stealthy accomplice.’