In mute demonstration, she held her arms out wide and walked straddle-legged, her head low on her shoulders. It was hard for Baldwin not to smile. She looked like a man-at-arms who had been spending too long in the saddle. And yet…an idea flashed into his mind.
‘You did not have a friend die?’ Simon asked.
‘No. But the next day I heard that Elena’s husband was dead. Surely that was it.’
Baldwin was frowning, but there came a spark to his face as she spoke. ‘This was the feast day of St Peter ad Vincula, wasn’t it? The night that Mortimer fled the Tower?’
‘Yes, master,’ she said, but now her face was anxious, and her eyes moved back towards the house.
‘Maid, did you tell anyone about that?’
‘No.’
‘Did your mistress see the ghost too?’
‘Yes, but she was angry. She didn’t seem fearful. She saw it at the water, she told me. I heard her talking about it with that monk, Lawrence.’
There was the sound of the main door opening. She said nothing more, but fled for the house as though fearing that the ghost of the marsh might be at her heels at any moment.
‘There’s something there, isn’t there?’ Simon said.
‘I think someone was playing the fool pretending to be a ghost up there that night. It was the night of Mortimer’s escape, and what better way to keep stray eyes at bay than to have a ghost who could kill your nearest and dearest. Probably Elena’s husband met the good Lord Roger and was killed for his pains. Thank God we don’t have to investigate that murder too!’
‘Do you think William could have killed the two?’ Simon asked, and explained his new doubts.
Baldwin considered. ‘I think this ghost is a fiction, and Juliet saw through it somehow. And she told of her doubts. Perhaps she was killed because of that – in case she had seen something else? She was killed to silence her.’
‘While Pilgrim knew nothing?’
‘So he was left tidily, while she was left in a mess because she was guilty of speaking out? Ach, I do not know. Let’s go to William and see whether he can help any further.’
They found William in his hall sitting in his chair. ‘Excuse my remaining in my seat, gentles. I am still tired after that appalling inquest.’ He spoke calmly, but when the small guard party appeared in his doorway behind Baldwin and Simon his eyes widened a little.
They had gathered the bishop’s men quickly and taken the bishop’s own little boat to cross the river, making their way down past the Rosary and grounding the boat in the shallows at the far side.
William’s small manor was a scant mile the other side of Southwark. Bishop Walter had given precise directions to one of his men, and he led the way along the quiet Surrey lanes until they reached William’s house.
For all that it was a small property, it was not maintained well. All about were proofs of the family’s poverty. The limewash was streaked, and timbers were failing. When Baldwin looked about, it was clear that this was a sadly dilapidated property compared with others nearby.
The interior continued with the same impression. Where tapestries and rich hangings covered the walls of the manor houses in the Strand, here the walls were bare of all decoration. Not even a simple picture broke the grey, sombre colours. The only decoration in the whole hall was William’s chair.
‘You like this? It was given to my father. Alas, it is about all that remains of my inheritance.’
‘We are not here for social purposes, I fear,’ Baldwin said.
‘I didn’t think you were – I’m not a fool yet!’ William said with a flare of asperity.
‘We know you were there,’ Simon said. ‘It makes sense that you killed your son when you learned he was trying to ensnare your wife, but why kill her too?’
William leaned back in his chair, staring from Simon to Baldwin. ‘What?’
‘Tell us the truth,’ Baldwin said.
‘I was out there, yes, to see my wife. I had no idea my son was there too. I assume he was dead before I went, but I wanted to see Juliet.’
‘Why there?’ Baldwin frowned. ‘It is a miserable place!’
‘She had an ally who was a boatman. She could always cross the river without fearing being followed, and the man would drop her off near the Rosary.’
‘Damn the Rosary! It seems to appear in all conversations,’ Simon muttered.
‘You want to learn more about it? I can tell you much.’
‘Finish your tale first. What did you want with her that night?’ Baldwin said.
‘She was my wife,’ William said, and his voice was choked. He appeared to recover swiftly, but now his voice was thick, and he swallowed a great deal as though his throat was blocked. ‘I wanted to see her every waking moment.’
He shouted for a servant, and shortly afterwards a wiry, sallow-faced man appeared. ‘Perce, fetch ale. I apologize,’ he continued. ‘Money has been thin in my purse recently, and where I used to offer wine now I must resort to ale.’
When Perce returned and Baldwin and Simon were holding large mugs of ale, he continued.
‘I wished to see her to try to persuade her again that she should announce her marriage to me. I didn’t want her going back to her father, or that snake of a brother of hers. Have you seen him? Timothy, he is called, but a man less like a disciple of Christ I cannot imagine. He is marked like a leper almost.
‘As was her wont, she refused me. The time was not yet right, she said. I spent too much time trying to persuade her, but she would have none of it. When I asked her about my son, she laughed at the thought that she might have had an affair with him. But there was something in her speech that worried me, I confess.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it didn’t sound natural. I am an older man, Sir Baldwin. You are too. You know as I do that you can hear a lie in the tone of a lover’s voice. I heard it then. Oh, don’t look at me like that! I killed no one that night. I heard that note and knew then that she had been seeing my son. I was upset, I confess. But not upset enough to slaughter the only two people in the world whom I loved. That would be insane!’
‘So what did you do?’
‘I left her, with an immensely heavy heart and tears ready to spring. I couldn’t force her to lie to me any further, and I sought solace in returning here and considering to myself that I would be cruel indeed to force her to join me here when she really wanted a younger man. I was prepared to perjure myself and declare that we had never married.’
‘How did you? Your wooing must have been difficult in the extreme.’
‘I think she came to love me as a father. Perhaps she never enjoyed the company of her own? It happened that we met one day near the Rosary while I was watching the building works. She saw me and came to apologize.’
‘Apologize for what?’
‘Didn’t you hear? The Rosary was my manor. When it was taken from me, I lost all my lands.’
Baldwin was surprised. ‘The lands about the Rosary? Marshes like them must be worth little!’
‘My flocks were able to meander and pasture there, but more important was the fishing. I had traps all over the river bank, kiddles to catch salmon. My lands were worth a great deal.’
‘How did you lose them?’
‘I thought you must know all this. Ten years ago I was a companion to Piers Gaveston. I was loyal to him, even when the barons took against him and exiled him. I remained loyal, and when he returned to this country I fought for him. My reward was a series of manors from here all the way to Kent. But now Piers is dead I have no patron. And in the last few years Despenser has whittled away my possessions. The last act was to take my lands for the Rosary, along with all the rest of my lands. All I have left is this hall.’
‘Under what pretext did he take them?’
‘Oh, the easiest possible. He alleged that I was associated with the Lord Mortimer. He suggested that I had aided Mortimer in his escape from the Tower. But I swear I had nothing to do with it.’
‘M
any about here appear to have been accused of aiding Mortimer to escape,’ Baldwin noted. ‘The prior too. A new man has been installed.’
‘That man Cusance. He is a companion to Despenser. They wanted a nice berth for him because he and his brother have served Despenser well. So Despenser had Walter de Luiz arrested and gave the living to his friend. It is a disgrace! To think that a politician could remove an honourable, godly man and replace him with a sham. All in the priory hate him. None trusts him.’
‘Was there anyone else who could have wanted to have you impoverished?’ Simon wanted to know. ‘Surely Despenser wouldn’t have simply picked on you for no reason. Someone must have suggested you had some part in that.’
‘I have no idea who could have suggested such a thing,’ William said. ‘An enemy like that must have been obvious. I could hardly miss the fact that someone hated me so much as to want to take away my life. Look at me! Only two years ago I was a powerful man with a good livelihood. Now I have lost all – even my wife and son.’
‘If you used to visit the marshes so regularly,’ Simon wanted to know, ‘did you ever see the figure? The ghost?’
William shivered and appeared to withdraw into his chair. ‘I saw it once, with my wife. It petrified me. But then…’
Baldwin nodded. ‘The next day you heard of the escape?’
‘Yes. It made me think that the ghost was perhaps a clever ploy to scare away watchers. A clever ruse. And I believed it. So would you, out near the river with a fine mist coming down.’
‘What did your wife think?’
‘At the time she, too, was terrified.’
‘Did you discuss it with her?’
‘Yes. In fact she was proud afterwards to have reported what she saw to her father, and through him to the city authorities. It’s probably because of her that the prior was removed.’
‘Who would have known that?’
‘I know Juliet mentioned it on our wedding day – but I don’t think she talked about it apart from then. At the time she was so filled with what that marshland meant to her, you see. She was full of excitement. Joyful, just like me.’
A tear ran slowly, unregarded, down William’s cheek. ‘First I lost Cecily, now her daughter and my son. There is nothing left for me.’
‘Master William, tell me,’ Baldwin said. ‘Sir Henry – would you doubt his personal loyalty to Despenser?’
‘No, I think that he is entirely loyal. There are many things I say to his detriment, but I wouldn’t disparage his faithfulness.’
Baldwin stood. ‘I ask that you remain here in your hall until this matter is reconsidered. Others may seek to punish you if you leave here.’
‘Any man could break into this place. There’s only me and Perce now that my son is dead.’
‘I shall leave these men with you. You will be safe.’
Baldwin turned to leave. ‘One thing: how do people reach these salmon traps – kiddles you called them?’
‘Mine were further into the water, and a boat was needed. Others, like the monks, have theirs nearer the shore. They sometimes use stilts to cross the mud.’
Baldwin commanded one of the bishop’s men to hurry to the bishop and inform him that he was not convinced that William was guilty as they had considered. He asked that a man be sent to Sir Henry, too, to ensure that Juliet’s father was aware that William was not arrested and was likely innocent.
Before they reached the water, Baldwin suddenly stopped. Simon saw him staring over the flats. ‘Are you all right, Baldwin?’
‘No, I don’t think I am. My mind has been fogged. Juliet was killed and left; Pilgrim was killed but treated with respect. If Pilgrim was not murdered by his father, then who else could have left him in such a kindly manner?’
‘As I said before – a monk?’
‘Precisely. The only trouble is: Juliet. Who could have killed Pilgrim and Juliet and treated them in so different a manner?’
‘A monk may be disinclined to touch a woman’s body, I suppose.’
Baldwin gave a swift grin. ‘Or more inclined, so I’ve heard. But this matter grows only more opaque. Why treat the two so differently?’
‘Two killers?’
‘Too coincidental. I cannot believe that.’
‘Someone else came along and prevented the killer from treating the woman in the same manner?’
Baldwin nodded. ‘I am still fascinated by Elena telling us about the figure. She must have realized we’d learn about men on stilts.’
‘Yes, which makes me infer that she knew what she was saying and she was trying to give us a hint. Now I think I understand it, too.’
Friday Next after the Feast of St George the Martyr 7 ,
Bermondsey Marsh
Baldwin had woken Simon as soon as dawn broke, and long before most of the city had risen the two were already on the southern shore of the Thames.
‘This affair is surely not so complex as it appears,’ Baldwin said. ‘Let us return to the place where the bodies were found and see if there is anything about the land which may lead us to an answer.’
The two men were walking away from the marvellous new development of the Rosary, their feet sinking into the thick tussocks of reed amid the meagre grass, before seeing some distance away a figure stalking about.
‘I think that there we can see a part of the answer,’ Baldwin murmured.
Simon followed his gaze. All he could see was a man standing at the water’s edge, sometimes moving slowly about with great deliberation, like a toddler learning his first steps. ‘There?’ he asked.
But Baldwin was already striding towards the priory, and Simon had to hurry to catch up with him.
‘What do you mean?’ he demanded as he reached his friend.
‘Look up there,’ Baldwin replied.
At the gatehouse Simon saw a cart emerge. There was a man leading the pony, and alongside it a monk paced slowly. Even from this distance, it was easy to recognise the figure.
‘Lawrence?’
Baldwin said no more as they approached the cellarer.
‘Sir Baldwin! You are up and about early this morning.’
‘As are you,’ Baldwin said, eyeing the cart. ‘You are off to the city?’
‘There is always a need to keep friends content. We have rights to some fisheries, and every so often we send a gift to friends in the city.’
‘Do you gather them yourself?’
‘Me? Sir Baldwin, can you imagine an old fellow like me on stilts walking about the river’s banks? Better to have a youngster do things like that.’
‘Oh? I’d heard you might have been about during the evening when Juliet and her man were killed.’
‘I don’t know who’d have said that. I wouldn’t leave the priory at night. Not with the ghost about. I’ve told you about that, haven’t I?’
‘Of course.’ Baldwin smiled. ‘And yet we’ve heard that Juliet told of the ghost out here on the night Mortimer escaped. A man could be upset to think that she had reported him – especially if it was her report that caused the good prior to be arrested.’
‘Who would think in such a way?’
‘I wonder,’ Baldwin said coolly, and now he was staring intently at the monk. ‘If a man loved his master and saw him punished by arrest, perhaps he would be so disgruntled and resentful that he might take matters into his own hands. A strong man, though. Clearly an older man would find it difficult to carry a body like Pilgrim’s.’ He glanced at the small cart. ‘Who would these fish be for?’
Lawrence kept his face neutral. ‘Sir Henry. I have been asked by the good prior to have this wagon-load delivered personally.’
‘Ah. The same man who reported that your prior might have been involved in Mortimer’s escape.’ Baldwin smiled coldly. ‘It is not a task to your taste?’
‘Our prior has been installed to replace our poor brother Walter, who has been ripped from our fold. Naturally I seek to obey my prior.’
‘Naturally,’ Baldwin
said drily. ‘I would think many of your comrades would be as unhappy as you about the turn events have taken.’
‘None of us is content. But we have the gratification of knowing that at least we are serving God in our own way, no matter what the powerful in the land may think or want. And God willing, our prior may one day return to us.’
‘God willing,’ Baldwin murmured in agreement.
‘Was that any help to us?’ Simon enquired.
Baldwin splashed into a puddle and gazed down at his boot in disdain. ‘These were once good leather,’ he muttered inconsequentially. ‘Hmm? Yes, I think so. Do you consider that man to be a murderer?’
‘Lawrence? No!’
‘Nor do I,’ Baldwin said. ‘And I think that itself makes our task more easy.’
Simon glanced at him. ‘What now?’
‘Now we see if another fellow can help us,’ Baldwin said with a smile, and turned to the gatehouse. ‘A man utterly devoted to Lawrence or his old prior. Someone who is stronger, who could drag Pilgrim’s body down into that hollow, but who’s also young enough to be able to use stilts. Ah! Porter! We should like to see the novice, Brother John. Is he about today?’
‘No. He’s off to look at the kiddles.’
‘Let me guess, he would use a small boat to reach them?’
‘Trust a lad like him with a boat? He can make use of stilts like his master the cellarer!’
‘Of course! Tell me, where would I see him?’
‘Best to wait here. He’ll be returning before long. Can I fetch you a quart of ale?’
William looked about him.
There had been a time, when he was a lad, when he had looked about himself in this room and seen only magnificence. There had been tapestries and fine pewter, silver catching the light from the fire in the middle of the floor, cushions on the benches, and great hounds pacing in and out. It had been a place of enormous comfort and elegance.
As he grew older, he came to this little manor less and less. He had the larger properties, and as his mercantile ventures bore fruit he would travel abroad more often, often dreaming idly of times when he would be able to settle down and find a wife. And then he had met Cecily.
House of Shadows Page 21
