‘But why should they strike at you, my lady?’
‘That will soon become apparent.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This was sent to me as proof of intent,’ she said, glancing down at the letter once more. ‘Though they were written in all innocence, the other letters are more incriminating than this. That is why I implored the lord Nicholas to destroy them once they had been read. He did not and they have come back to haunt me. I am being blackmailed, Golde.’
‘By whom?’
‘I wish I knew.’
‘You must have some idea.’
‘None whatsoever,’ said Albreda with a note of despair. ‘When this letter was put into my hand by Berold, I flew into a panic.
That is why I turned to you for help. Only another woman could understand the position that I find myself in.’
‘My counsel remains the same. Tell your husband.’
‘No, Golde!’
‘Then you will for ever be at the mercy of the blackmailer.’
‘Not if I can buy my letters back.’
‘Is that what has been suggested?’
‘No, but it is clearly implied. He will want something from me and will no doubt set a high price on his demand. When the moment comes, I will need someone to act as my go-between.’ A look of pleading came into her eyes. ‘Will you do that office for me, Golde?’
‘It is not one that I take on with any willingness.’
‘But you will do it?’
‘I am not sure, my lady,’ said Golde. ‘I am touched that you were able to confide in me and I will support you all I can, but I loathe the idea of giving in to blackmail. It is a despicable crime.’
‘I have no choice.’
‘You do, my lady.
‘Please do not tell me to go to my husband again.’
‘I was not going to do that.’
‘Then what else can you advise?’
‘Find the person who sent you that letter.’
Chapter Twelve
Tetbald worked hard to restore himself to her favour. Having got so close to the lady Catherine, he found it galling to be thrust away so abruptly. He was submissive and obedient, quick to anticipate her needs and ready to satisfy them at once, never critical, never complaining and never again making the mistake of issuing a veiled threat. The steward’s behaviour slowly won back her approval and Catherine allowed him minor concessions and even an occasional indication of affection. Tetbald was encouraged. His obsequious manner gradually evanesced into a renewed confidence. It put a spring into his step and he moved about with something of his earlier sense of possession.
The barking of the dogs alerted him to the arrival of a visitor and he was astonished to see that it was Gervase Bret. Escorted by four of the knights from Hervey de Marigny’s retinue, the young commissioner had ridden out to the manor house to continue his own investigations, firmly believing that the clue to both murders lay in the dispute in which both victims had been involved. Tetbald answered the door himself and invited the visitor in. The escort dismounted but remained outside.
‘Why have you come, Master Bret?’ asked Tetbald.
‘I needed to ask some questions of you,’ said Gervase.
‘But the proceedings at the shire hall have been postponed.
That was the message that came from the town reeve. Or has that decision been revoked?’ He rubbed his hands unctuously.
‘It would be pleasing to hear that you had already arrived at a judgement in our favour. That is the kindest news I could bear to the lady Catherine.’
‘You will have to wait a while before you can do so, Tetbald. My enquiries concern the murder of the lord de Marigny.’
‘Yes,’ said the steward, composing his features into a token sympathy. ‘We heard about that from Saewin’s messenger. It was a great shock to us. Who would dare to kill a royal commissioner?’
‘The same person who dared to kill the lord Nicholas.’
‘Do you think so, Master Bret?’
‘I am certain of it.’
‘There was no mention of this when the message came.’
‘It has still to be proved,’ admitted Gervase. ‘But I did not only come here to visit you this morning. I was hoping for a word with the lady Catherine herself.’
‘That is out of the question. The lady Catherine is in mourning and will see no visitors.’
‘She might if she knew the gravity of the situation.’
‘She has her own grief,’ said Tetbald firmly. ‘I am sorry, but I cannot allow you to disturb her. Any questions you may wish to put to the lady Catherine, you may put to me. I speak for her.’
‘Not when I am here to speak for myself,’ she said crisply.
They turned to see her slowly descending the stairs. Gervase studied her carefully. She was wearing sober attire and an expression of distant pain but he did not feel that she was consumed with grief. As at the funeral, he sensed that her sorrow was not as deep as might be expected from the widow of a murdered husband. Catherine led him into the parlour and beckoned for Tetbald to follow. Annoyed that he had been overruled by her, the steward was mollified by the fact that he was to be included in the discussion with Gervase. It was a sign that she knew how much she could rely on him.
When the others sat down, however, he remained standing.
Catherine was very keen that he should be seen solely as her steward. Gervase noted the glance which passed between them and remembered the familiarity with which Tetbald had spoken of her at the shire hall.
‘I was sorry to hear of the death of your colleague,’ she began, hands folded in her lap. ‘It is an appalling misfortune.’
‘Yes, my lady,’ said Gervase.
‘Where was he killed?’
‘We do not know. The body was found in the river, some half a mile away from the city, but we feel that it was not the scene of the crime.’
‘I overheard you say to my steward that there might well be a link with my husband’s murder.’
‘That is what has brought me out here, my lady.’
‘I would rather not know the details,’ she said, averting her gaze.
‘You will not need to, my lady. Suffice it to say that there are striking similarities between the two crimes except that the one seems to have been planned and the other random.’
‘I hope that the sheriff will soon solve both murders.’
‘He has many officers involved in the inquiries,’ explained Gervase, ‘and is leading them with the utmost urgency. But it is another crime which interests me. I believe that you reported a robbery to the sheriff?’
‘I instructed my steward to do so.’
‘That is correct,’ said Tetbald, glad of the opportunity to speak.
‘I made the sheriff aware of the robbery when I came into the city yesterday to appear before you at the shire hall.’
‘A box was stolen, I understand.’
‘Yes,’ said Catherine. ‘It belonged to my husband.’
‘It was stolen and later found empty,’ added Tetbald.
‘I will answer on my own account,’ she said with a hint of reproach. ‘The theft was of my property and from my home.’
‘Yes, my lady,’ said Tetbald, smarting under the rebuff.
‘What was in the box?’ asked Gervase.
‘I do not know,’ she said. ‘My husband kept personal items in there and I could not find a key to open it. And it could not easily be broken into. I imagine that it may have contained important documents or even gold, for he used it like a strongbox.’
‘Yet it did not hold his will or any of the charters relating to his property.’
‘No, Master Bret. Those were kept together in a cupboard.’
Gervase began to fish. ‘It seems strange that a wife does not know what a husband keeps locked away in a box,’ he said casually. ‘Is there anyone who would know what it contained?’
‘No,’ she asserted.
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because my husband was very secretive. He confided in nobody.’