Kenelm followed until he saw where Owen was going. He stopped immediately. Nothing could make him venture into the cemetery at night. It held the accusing presence of Brother Nicholas.
Watching the other boy pick his way nimbly between the gravestones, Kenelm lost his nerve and turned tail. He ran all the way back to the dormitory but it was no refuge. New horrors assaulted him. Sleep of any kind was impossible.
Owen, meanwhile, was filled with a strange confidence. When he reached the mound of fresh earth, he gazed down at it without any sign of fear. Even in death, Brother Nicholas was still his friend. The only way to reach him now was by means of prayer, and Owen knelt on the damp grass with his palms together. His prayer was long and fervent. He was convinced that Brother Nicholas heard every word. When he opened his eyes and clambered to his feet again, he was smiling. He had talked at night to his friend as he had done so many times before. It was thrilling. Waving a farewell, he turned to scamper away but someone was waiting for him, a stout figure in a monastic cowl, barely visible in the darkness. Pale moonlight gave him a ghostly air.
Owen was unperturbed. He went hopefully towards the man.
‘Brother Nicholas?’ he asked.
Occupying a chamber near the base of the keep, Gervase Bret retired early to bed and fell swiftly asleep. Even the heavy murmur of voices from the hall did not disturb him. It took the fist and voice of Canon Hubert to pluck him from his dreams.
‘Gervase!’ called Hubert. ‘Wake up, Gervase!’
‘What?’ muttered the other, opening an eye. ‘Who’s there?’
‘Canon Hubert!’
‘Here at the castle?’
‘I must speak to you!’
‘One moment.’
Forcing himself awake, Gervase got out of bed and crossed to unbolt the door. Brother Hubert was supporting himself against the wall with one hand. He was covered in sweat and panting stertorously. Gervase beckoned him in and shut the door behind them. When he opened the window, the first rays of sun were streaking across the sky. They enabled him to see his visitor’s face.
‘Canon Hubert, are you all right?’
‘I’ve been running.’
‘I can see that. Sit down. Get your breath back.’
‘Thank you, Gervase.’
Gulping in air, Hubert lowered himself precariously on to a small stool and put a palm across his heart. A man who rarely moved at more than a stately waddle had broken into an undignified sprint. Gervase knew that only an emergency could have made him do that. He waited until his caller had a semblance of control over his breathing.
‘What is the matter?’ he asked.
‘Another disaster has befallen the abbey.’
‘Murder?’
‘We are not sure, Gervase. We pray that is not the case.’
‘So what happened?’
‘One of the novices was abducted in the night.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘No other explanation fits the facts,’ said Hubert, wiping an arm across his brow. ‘The boy’s name is Owen. His absence was noted at Matins and a search instituted. He is nowhere to be found in the abbey.’
‘Calm down,’ advised Gervase. ‘You may yet be mistaken. The boy may be playing a prank and hiding from you.’
‘Owen never plays pranks. Brother Paul, the Master of the Novices, tells me he is the most obedient of them all. Besides, where would he hide? They have looked everywhere.’
‘They looked everywhere for Brother Nicholas, if you remember, and he was concealed among them all the time. But you say he was abducted. Assuming that this Owen did leave the abbey, could he not have gone of his own accord?’
‘No, Gervase.’
‘Why not?’
‘To start with, he would not have been able to get out. All the doors are locked at night. Only the porter could have let him leave. And we are talking about a dedicated young boy here. He thrives on monastic life. Owen had no reason to go and every reason to stay.’ His jowls wobbled with consternation. ‘But there is much more disturbing intelligence, Gervase. He may not be the first.’
‘The first what?’
‘Victim. Two other novices disappeared in the past.’
‘Under what circumstances?’
‘Similar ones, from what I can gather. There at night but gone the next morning. Again, with no just cause to flee the abbey.
Everyone is convinced that all three boys were kidnapped.’
‘Why?’
‘I dare not even contemplate that.’
‘But didn’t you tell me that all the doors were locked?’
‘They are, Gervase. By the porter.’
‘Then how did someone get in to abduct them?’
‘How did someone get in to murder Brother Nicholas?’ said Hubert, shifting dangerously on the stool. ‘Abbot Serlo believes the crimes may be connected and I am bound to agree. That’s why I took to my heels to rouse you. I hope that you do not mind.’
‘Of course not, Canon Hubert. You did the right thing.’
‘I thought to speak first to the lord Ralph but I hesitated to knock at the door of a married man. It seemed improper. I could hardly be invited into his chamber as I have been here.’
‘Nevertheless, Ralph must be woken,’ said Gervase. ‘Have no fear. I’ll take the office upon me. Stay here and recover while I am about it.’
‘Do you think we are right?’
‘About what?’
‘A link between the murder and the abductions?’
‘There is only one way to find out. What I do know is that you’ve told me more than enough to get me out of bed. When he’s stopped cursing me for waking him, Ralph will say the same.
Hold fast.’
Still in his night attire, Gervase ran swiftly out on bare feet.
Abbot Serlo, Bishop Wulfstan and Brother Frewine stood in a line and stared balefully down at the ground like three ancient owls with only one mouse between them. They were outside the church, lost in thought, weighed down with a new grief, drawn together by suffering. Serlo’s pain was keenest. He was in loco parentis and one of his beloved children had been snatched away.
The Precentor felt numb. Owen was the last boy he would have wanted to lose and he feared that the novice’s trusting nature might have been his downfall. Older and wiser than either of them, the bishop tried to put fear aside so that he could think more clearly. Child abductions were not unique events in his long life. He did not dwell on how most usually ended.
The return of Canon Hubert brought all three of them out of their reveries. Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret had been given full details by their colleague but they wanted to hear them afresh.
After greetings had been exchanged, they let the abbot give his account. The evidence from Kenelm was what intrigued Ralph.
‘He followed Owen to the cemetery?’ he said.
‘So he told us, my lord,’ replied Serlo.
‘Whatever was the boy doing there?’
‘Only he would know that.’
‘Most lads of that age would not go near such a place in the dead of night. Especially on their own. Well, this Kenelm was too frightened to stay, it seems. I can understand that. Owen must be very brave.’
‘Hardly,’ said Frewine. ‘I have never met such a timid creature.’
‘Timid?’
‘Shy, modest and reticent.’
‘Yet he walks among the gravestones in the dark. An unusual boy, this Owen, clearly.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Hubert tells us that all the abbey doors are locked at night.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ said Serlo. ‘But the porter is always at the gate.’
‘Who holds the keys to the other doors?’
‘He does.’
‘Are there no duplicates?’
‘I have one to the rear entrance but rarely use it.’
‘Is it kept somewhere safe, Abbot Serlo?’
‘Extremely safe. It has never gone missing.’
‘And it is still where
it should be?’
‘Yes, my lord. I checked.’
‘In that case, we are faced with only one conclusion. Someone had a means of getting into the abbey at night. He let himself in, seized the boy, then left by the same door.’
‘That, alas, is what we have decided.’
‘May I add another possibility?’ asked Gervase.
‘Please do,’ encouraged Wulfstan. ‘Your opinion is valued.
Canon Hubert has told us how much you have helped him with his investigation into the murder.’
Ralph choked. ‘ His investigation!’
‘What is this possibility, Gervase?’ asked Hubert, eager to move attention away from himself. ‘We do not see it.’
‘Suppose that the man we seek did not let himself into the abbey at all?’ suggested Gervase. ‘Because he was already inside it.’Serlo was affronted. ‘You accuse one of my monks?’
‘No, Abbot Serlo.’
‘The sheriff did. In plain terms.’
‘An outrageous allegation!’ said Wulfstan.
‘Let him finish,’ said Frewine quietly. ‘I do not think that Master Bret is pointing the finger at any of us. Are you?’
‘No, Brother Frewine. The person I suspect is an interloper. If you steal a tree,’ said Gervase, ‘the best place to hide it is in a forest. If you steal a cowl, the one place it will never be detected is in a monastery.’
‘We have a bogus monk in our midst!’ gasped Serlo.
‘Gervase may be on to something,’ said Ralph.
‘He would surely have been exposed,’ contended Frewine. ‘Each of us knows all the others.’
‘By day, perhaps,’ said Gervase, ‘which is why the interloper would not have mingled with you then. But if he let himself into the abbey just before the doors were locked, he could bide his time until an opportunity arose. An opportunity to kill Brother Nicholas, for instance. An opportunity to abduct Owen and, in all probability, the earlier boys who disappeared. It is mere supposition, of course,’ he continued, spreading his arms, ‘but I feel that it deserves consideration.’
‘Serious consideration,’ declared Hubert.
‘There, Gervase!’ said Ralph with light sarcasm. ‘You have the approval of the leader of the murder inquiry. Sheriff Hubert himself.’ The canon took an uncomfortable step backwards. ‘I agree with your reasoning about the disguise and will even accept that the man in question was inside the enclave before the doors were locked. But one thing is still unexplained. How did he get out of the abbey again?’
‘With a key.’
‘The only two in existence are accounted for.’
‘Then there must be a third.’
‘How was it obtained?’
‘A duplicate was taken from one of the others.’ He turned to Serlo. ‘Is there a locksmith in the city, Abbot Serlo?’
‘Two. We have employed both here in the past.’
‘Give us their names. We will need to speak to them.’
‘Both are entirely trustworthy.’
‘I’m sure that they are,’ said Ralph, ‘but how are they to know where a key comes from when a customer requests a duplicate?
A locksmith is acting in good faith. He is no accomplice here.’
‘I am sorry to disagree,’ said Frewine softly, ‘because Master Bret has been so plausible. But we are very particular about the security of this abbey. With such valuable items and holy relics to guard, we have to be. All the keys are kept on a single ring.
Day or night, it never leaves the hand of the porter who is on duty. How, then, could it have been copied by a locksmith?’
‘It was not,’ said Gervase. ‘Nobody would try to borrow a key from a bunch when a single one existed. The duplicate must have been made from the other key.’
‘But you heard Abbot Serlo tell you that it rarely leaves his lodging. And then it is only for personal use.’
All eyes turned to the abbot. A distant memory troubled him.
‘That is not strictly true, Brother Frewine.’
‘Others have borrowed the key?’ asked Ralph.
‘Once or twice.’
‘Recently?’
‘Oh no, my lord. Some time ago.’
‘When was the last time? A year ago?’
‘More like two.’
‘And who borrowed your key on that occasion?’
Abbot Serlo’s voice dropped to an embarrassed whisper.
‘I do believe it may have been Brother Nicholas.’
Chapter Ten
It was an entirely new experience for Ralph Delchard. He would never have believed that it was possible for him to enjoy himself within the confines of an abbey, especially when plucked unceremoniously from the arms of his wife in the early hours of the morning, but that was what was happening. Pleasure was coursing through him. It was not because he had discovered a hitherto unacknowledged spiritual dimension in his life, still less an affinity with the three Benedictine monks who greeted him at the abbey. What excited him was the thrill of the chase. Another crime had been committed, but more clues lay in its wake this time. His blood was up. Simultaneously, an innocent boy might be saved and a cruel murder solved. He was glad that Gervase Bret had hauled him out of bed.
Controlling his exhilaration, he spoke gently to Kenelm.
‘Tell your story once more,’ he invited.
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘Begin from the moment you heard Owen leave. Had he ever crept out of the dormitory at night before?’
‘Never!’ said Kenelm.
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘He was not bold enough, my lord.’
‘Unlike you and Elaf.’
‘Those days are gone.’
Kenelm was feeling sorry for himself. A sleepless night had left him sagging with weariness but the new day brought nothing but endless interrogation. Shocked by Owen’s disappearance and anxious to help, he was finding that his concentration wandered and his memory played tricks on him. He pulled himself together and went through it all again with plodding slowness. It was painful.
The five of them were in the Precentor’s lodging. Abbot Serlo had been shed along with Canon Hubert, the putative leader of the murder inquiry. Only the bishop followed Ralph and Gervase to the new venue. Brother Frewine summoned the novice and they were able to hear the boy’s account at first hand. It gave them priceless new facts with which to work. Seeing Kenelm’s obvious exhaustion, Ralph took pity on him and released him after another bout of questioning. When the boy had gone, Ralph turned to Brother Frewine.
‘That’s the second time he’s broken the rules to wander about at night and the second time he’s had a nasty surprise. I have a feeling that the lad will stay in his bed from now on.’
‘If only that were true, my lord,’ said Frewine.
‘You have cause to doubt it?’
‘Grave cause. Kenelm is planning to leave us.’
Wulfstan was upset. ‘Abandon his novitiate?’
‘So I understand, Bishop Wulfstan. As you saw for yourselves, the boy is in a state of high anxiety. Brother Nicholas’s death made a deep impression on him. He thinks that the only way he can deal with the situation is to run away.’
‘Owen’s fate may make him reconsider,’ observed Gervase.
‘Possibly.’
‘Let us have his friend in,’ said Ralph.
The Precentor nodded and opened the door to summon the other novice. Elaf was morose, rocked by what might have happened to Owen and desperate to do all that he could to try to find him. At Ralph’s behest, he described the argument he had seen outside the abbey gate between Brother Nicholas and the well-dressed stranger. When they had probed him on every detail, Elaf, too, was set free and ran off to confer with Kenelm.
There was another bond between them now. Both had seen things which might have a bearing on the serious crimes committed at the abbey. Each had witnessed elements in a continuing catastrophe.
Bishop Wulfstan was impressed by
their undoubted honesty.
‘Worthy novices, both,’ he said. ‘The Order must not lose them.’
‘We will do all we can to keep them,’ promised Frewine.
‘I will speak with them alone myself, if that would help.’
‘Greatly, Bishop Wulfstan. They worship you.’
‘God needs no competition from me.’ He looked at Ralph. ‘You are deep in thought, my lord. May we know what you have decided?’
‘I am still trying to piece it together. Gervase?’
‘So am I,’ said the other, ‘but this much I will vouchsafe. Brother Nicholas strayed ruinously from his monastic vows. I know that it is a painful notion to accept,’ he continued as the bishop winced, ‘but it can scarcely be denied. Money was found in his cell by Brother Frewine and there are other indications which lead me to a conclusion which you will find incredible. But it must be confronted.’
‘Brace yourselves,’ warned Ralph. ‘Tell them, Gervase.’
‘I will be brief. Brother Nicholas was paid to provide young boys to someone who came here in disguise to collect them. The same man was probably seen by Elaf having an argument with Brother Nicholas outside the gate and it led in time to murder. Wearing a cowl and using the key provided by his accomplice, the man let himself in once more last night and chanced upon Owen in the cemetery.’
‘No!’ protested Wulfstan. ‘A Benedictine monk engaged in such a business? I cannot accept that. I will not.’
‘I will,’ said Frewine simply.
‘So will I,’ agreed Ralph. ‘My thoughts move in the same direction. I would make only one comment, Gervase.’
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘I do not think that this man “chanced upon” the boy.’
‘How else could he know where and when to find him?’
‘I have no idea. But he did. He must have.’
‘The very idea of such a monster prowling on consecrated ground is abhorrent to me,’ said Wulfstan. ‘He must be stopped. Locks on every door must be changed. Patrols set up. Special protection offered to the novices. They are mere children. They deserve to be watched over as closely as any holy relics.’
The Owls of Gloucester d-10 Page 19
