‘And an honourable one,’ added Gervase. ‘The argument between them arose because Hermer boasted about violating Aelfeva, a defenceless girl whom he’d stalked. Starculf was outraged on her behalf.’
‘Yes,’ added Ralph. ‘Even to the extent of finding the victim’s kinfolk in order to apologise to them. Starculf is a considerate man.’
‘He’s a murderer,’ said Bigot, sternly. ‘He showed little consideration to Hermer.’
‘How much consideration did Hermer show to that girl?’
‘That’s not the point at issue, my lord.’
‘Starculf was provoked by what the steward did.’
‘It doesn’t excuse his own actions.’
‘No, my lord sheriff,’ agreed Gervase, ‘but it does suggest that Starculf is a man with a strong moral sense. It may have driven him to extremes but it can’t be entirely ignored. I’d like to meet him.’
‘You will, Master Bret. When my men arrest him.’
‘Where are they searching?’
‘All over the county. The main roads are being watched to cut off his escape.’
‘What about the ports?’
‘Word has been sent to all of them. A reward has been offered for information leading to the capture of Starculf. It’s only a matter of time before we take him.’
‘I wonder how the lady Adelaide will react,’ said Ralph.
‘She’ll rejoice at the arrest of a killer,’ replied Gervase.
‘Oh, I think she’ll be pleased that the crime is solved but I suspect she’ll wish that the perpetrator were anybody but Starculf. She liked the fellow, I could tell, and knew him far better than she was prepared to admit. Though she’ll deplore what he did, I fancy that the lady Adelaide will show him a little sympathy as well.’
The sheriff was brusque. ‘That’s more than I’ll do!’
‘Or me,’ said Ralph evenly. ‘But the lord Eustace and I were both struck by the way she talked about Starculf. Her denials were far too hot to be taken seriously.’
‘The lady Adelaide won’t have all that much sympathy for him,’ said Gervase. ‘Had it not been for Starculf, she might now be the owner of the gold elephants she covets so much. If the murder had not occurred, the earlier theft of the treasures might never have come to light and she would have regarded herself as their rightful owner. Instead of which, she now knows that they’re beyond her reach.’
‘Yes, Gervase. They’ll be returned to the abbey.’
‘As a wedding present, they’re null and void.’
Ralph chuckled. ‘That puts paid to the lord Richard’s hopes.’
‘But it raises an interesting question,’ noted Gervase. ‘Now that Richard de Fontenel is no longer a possible suitor, will the lady Adelaide turn to his rival? Are we to hear the announcement of a marriage between her and the lord Mauger?’
‘That depends on what he has to offer.’
The blow was so hard that it sent him reeling backwards until his body slammed against the wall. All the breath was knocked out of Judicael the Goldsmith.
‘Tell me!’ demanded Mauger Livarot.
‘My lord,’ gasped the other, shaking with fear. ‘Don’t strike me again.’
‘I won’t use a fist next time,’ warned Livarot, drawing his dagger. ‘Now, speak!’
Judicael shook his head. ‘I can’t, my lord.’
‘Yes, you can.’
‘I gave my word.’
‘Who cares about that?’
‘I do,’ whimpered the other. ‘I have to. I’m a craftsman. My customers trust me. If I abuse that trust, I lose their faith.’
‘You’ll lose more than that if you continue to defy me!’
Livarot brandished the dagger and the goldsmith cowered against the wall. It had been the worst possible start to a new day for Judicael. No sooner had he opened his shop than Mauger Livarot burst into it, demanding private information and threatening violence if it were not forthcoming. Impatient and irascible, he had already demonstrated his readiness to resort to physical assault. Judicael was neither brave nor resourceful. He lacked the courage to stand up to his visitor or the guile with which to talk himself out of his predicament. The blow across his face had not only shocked him and left the first tentative signs of a bruise, it made him fear for the safety of his hands, the essential tools of his trade. If his truculent customer were to inflict serious damage on them, Judicael’s occupation would be gone.
Standing up straight, he made a doomed effort to assert himself. ‘If you come any closer,’ he said, ‘I’ll report this to the lord sheriff.’
‘Go on, then,’ taunted Livarot, blocking his way.
‘I must ask you to leave the premises, my lord.’
‘What if I refuse?’
‘Please!’ he begged.
‘Not until you tell me what I came here to find out.’
‘That’s impossible, my lord.’
‘I won’t wait much longer, Judicael.’
The goldsmith tried to sound firm. ‘I’ll be forced to summon the lord sheriff.’
‘Will you?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘And what will you tell him?’
‘That you assaulted me for no reason at all.’
‘But I’ve a very good reason.’
‘My lord—’
‘And you’re giving me an even better one,’ continued Livarot, jabbing the point of his dagger at the man’s throat to pin him against the wall. ‘You won’t be able to say much to Roger Bigot if I slice that ugly head of yours from its fat body.’
‘No, no!’ pleaded Judicael.
‘Then answer my question.’
‘It’s more than my life is worth.’
‘You won’t have a life if you don’t tell me the truth.’
‘You’ve no right to treat me this way.’
‘Try stopping me.’
‘I implore you, my lord. Leave me be.’
‘Only when you have the sense to tell me.’ His dagger pricked the goldsmith’s neck hard enough to draw blood and to instil terror. Eyes bulging and mouth agape, Judicael was now running with sweat. There was no way out. Mauger Livarot would not be denied. The goldsmith gently touched the scratch on his throat and saw the blood on his finger. He shuddered.
‘You’re asking me to break a confidence,’ he said, weakly.
‘No, Judicael. I’m ordering you to do it.’ A second jab with the dagger produced a yelp of pain. ‘You had a visit from the lord Richard yesterday. I have a witness who saw him come into your shop. He’d not take the trouble to ride all the way here unless it was on important business. What was that business?’
‘It’s a confidential matter.’
‘The lord Richard brought you a commission, didn’t he?’
The dagger drew more blood from his throat and Judicael capitulated. ‘Yes, my lord,’ he said, trying to stem the flow with a hand.
‘Well?’
‘He asked me to make something for him.’
‘Some jewellery, perhaps?’
‘Two gold elephants.’
‘Elephants!’ repeated Livarot. ‘Are you sure?’
‘The commission was very specific, my lord,’ said Judicael, relieved that the dagger had now been lowered from his neck. ‘The lord Richard had two miniature elephants stolen from his house recently. They were crafted out of solid gold by a Venetian master. The lord Richard wanted exact copies to be made.’
‘How could you possibly do that?’
‘By taking details from another goldsmith who actually saw the objects.’
‘At the lord Richard’s house?’
‘No, my lord,’ said Judicael. ‘At the abbey of St Benet at Holme.’
Mauger Livarot needed a moment to absorb the shock of the announcement. ‘Did I hear you aright?’ he said, dagger lifting again. ‘Are you telling me that these gold elephants belonged to the abbey?’
‘They were holy objects, brought back from Rome.’
‘Then how di
d they come into the lord Richard’s greedy hands?’
‘I don’t know, my lord.’
‘Did he buy them from the abbey?’
‘Hardly,’ said the other. ‘Abbot Alfwold would never part with holy treasures. How they went astray, I’ve no idea. But when they’re found, the lord sheriff will no doubt restore them to their rightful owner.’
Livarot was not sure whether to be pleased or annoyed at the tidings. ‘Did the lord Richard say why he wanted two gold elephants made?’
‘I understood that he wished to give them to someone, my lord. I thought at first that he meant to present them to the abbey but now I’m not so sure.’
‘Well, whoever it is won’t receive them from the lord Richard.’
‘But I have a commission.’
‘It’s just been cancelled.’
‘You can’t speak for the lord Richard.’
‘I’m not,’ said Livarot, grinning to himself. ‘I’m speaking for the lady to whom they were due to be presented. When she was offered the original pair she was very taken with them, but there was a significant omission. The lord Richard somehow forgot to mention that they were stolen property.’ He sheathed his dagger and gave a laugh of triumph. ‘When she learns the truth, she’ll be livid.’
‘They were stolen from the abbey,’ said the lady Adelaide, pulsing with quiet fury.
‘I didn’t know that,’ he replied.
‘You must have done.’
‘No, Adelaide. I bought those elephants in France.’
‘Then how did they get there from the abbey of St Benet?’
‘Who can say?’
‘You can, Richard. Stop lying to me.’
‘I’m not lying,’ he said, trying to conceal his embarrassment beneath an affectionate smile. ‘I’d never lie to you, Adelaide. I bought those gold elephants because I wanted the best for you. I knew that you’d appreciate them.’
‘I did–until I heard that they were stolen property.’
‘Who told you?’
‘Ralph Delchard, one of the royal commissioners.’
‘Why is he poking his nose into this?’
‘That’s irrelevant. The point is that I now know the truth about this so-called wedding gift. You had those elephants seized from the abbey so that you could wave them in front of my eyes to entice me into marriage.’
‘But I didn’t. I swear it.’
‘That was despicable!’
Richard de Fontenel had been delighted when he saw the lady Adelaide riding towards his manor house, but that delight turned swiftly to misery when he learned the purpose of her visit. Having brooded overnight on what she saw as a reprehensible act, she had decided to confront her erstwhile suitor. He had never seen her in such an angry mood. She moved around his parlour with her eyes smouldering.
‘And to think that I was tempted,’ she said, her voice full of selfreproach. ‘I let myself be dazzled by two pieces of gold.’
‘Purchased especially for you, Adelaide.’
‘Stolen especially for me.’
‘Not by me.’
‘No, you’d use one of your underlings for that. Hermer, probably,’ she speculated. ‘From what I hear, he was corrupt enough for anything.’
‘What do you mean?’ he said, stung by the remark.
‘Your steward had a reputation.’
‘He gave me excellent service.’
‘So I begin to see.’
‘Hermer was killed because of his loyalty to me,’ he reminded her. ‘Murdered and mutilated. He went quickly on to the attack. ‘And do you know who was responsible for that? The man you recommended to me, my lady, Starculf.’
‘There’s no proof of that.’
‘There’s ample proof.’
‘Starculf is no longer in the county.’
‘Then why is the lord sheriff sending out men in search of him? He’s the prime suspect. Roger Bigot assures me that he has evidence enough to convict the villain.’
‘Starculf is no villain.’
‘Yes, he is,’ retorted the other. ‘That’s why I dismissed him.’
‘Wrongfully.’
‘Are you telling me how to manage my estate?’
‘No, my lord,’ she said, backing off slightly. ‘But I know Starculf better than you. He was a mere youth when my husband took him on. I saw him grow to manhood. He was honest and straightforward. Starculf had integrity.’
‘Killing my steward?’ he shouted. ‘Is that an example of his integrity? And why did he have to cut off Hermer’s hands? Tell me that. Starculf is a vicious animal who deserves no mercy. I’ll be searching for him myself.’
The lady Adelaide was dismayed. She had lost her momentum and been thrown on the defensive. The one person she did not wish to talk about was Starculf. It was important to regain the initiative in the conversation.
‘So you no longer accuse the lord Mauger?’ she mocked. ‘When the crimes were first committed, you immediately pointed to him.’
‘With cause. Mauger is more than capable of theft and murder.’
‘But not in this instance.’
‘He’s no picture of innocence,’ sneered the other. ‘Mauger had a spy working for him under my roof. A wretch called Clamahoc. What sort of a man contrives that?’
‘A cunning one,’ she said, calmly.
‘Are you saying that you approve?’
‘It’s not for me to make any comment.’
‘When I showed you those gold elephants, Clamahoc overheard every word that we exchanged.’ He saw her wince. ‘Yes, my lady. A marriage proposal is something that should concern only the two people involved. How do you feel, knowing that the private remarks you made to me were then passed on to Mauger?’
‘I’m not exactly pleased,’ she admitted.
‘That’s the man you might have taken for a husband.’
‘At least he didn’t order someone to steal holy treasures from an abbey.’
‘Neither did I!’
‘Then how did they come into your possession?’
‘I bought them from a merchant.’
‘What was his name–Hermer?’
Richard de Fontenel’s expression gave him away. Turning from her, he circled the room and worked himself up into a rage to deflect her from further accusation.
‘Hermer is dead,’ he said, punching a fist into the palm of the other hand. ‘Cut down and foully abused by Starculf. He was slaughtered, Adelaide, and all you can think about is a pair of gold elephants. Don’t you have any concern for human life? Hermer was never popular – he never tried to be–but he didn’t deserve to be murdered. I spoke to Brother Daniel, the monk who discovered the corpse, and he was still in a state of shock over what he saw. That was all Starculf’s doing.’ He rounded on her. ‘The man you were so keen to recommend to me. Don’t you think you should accept some of the blame for what happened? Starculf was your man, after all.’
The lady Adelaide was too embarrassed to answer. After meeting his accusatory glare for a few seconds, she turned on her heel and hurried quickly out of the house.
There was a flurry of activity in the bailey as Roger Bigot marshalled his men before riding out of the castle to continue the hunt. Eager to help in the search, Eustace Coureton volunteered himself and his escort. They were assigned to the group led by the sheriff’s deputy, Olivier Romain. It was a beautiful day. With the morning sun on their backs, the respective parties felt a surge of confidence. They were convinced that they would at last catch their elusive quarry.
Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret had already left the castle. Accompanied by Ralph’s men, they rode at a comfortable pace in a south-easterly direction. Though he responded willingly to his friend’s leadership, Gervase was puzzled that they had not put themselves at the disposal of the sheriff.
‘Why are we riding on our own, Ralph?’ he asked.
‘We make more speed this way.’
‘Is that why we left before them?’
‘It’s part
of the reason, Gervase,’ said Ralph, cheerily. ‘I didn’t want us to get too entangled in the search for Starculf.’
‘But he’s the man we’re after, surely?’
‘Indirectly.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘You will,’ promised the other, grinning. ‘We’ll both follow, Gervase. The lord sheriff and his men know this county well, yet they’ve so far failed to capture Starculf. We’ll hunt more wisely. While they charge along the main roads, we’ll follow someone who knows the smaller paths.’
‘And who’s that?’
‘Jocelyn Vavasour.’
Gervase was surprised. ‘The anchorite?’
‘He’s turned huntsman now and my guess is that he has a keener nose than Roger Bigot and his officers. Find Jocelyn and–very soon – I think we’ll find Starculf.’
‘But we have no notion where Jocelyn might be.’
‘Yes, we have. Thanks to you.’
‘Me?’
‘Didn’t you say that he’d been to see Olova as well?’ said Ralph. ‘Before that, I feel sure, he would have repaired to the abbey itself to get full details of the theft.’
‘So?’
‘We put ourselves in his position, Gervase. We try to get inside his head.’
‘That’s a troubled place to be. His mind is beset by demons.’
‘They’re driving him on to recover the elephants at the moment. Jocelyn Vavasour was no ordinary soldier, remember. He helped the lord Ivo to flush out Hereward the Wake from the fens. That means he knows how to stalk his prey. My guess is that he’ll have looked under every bush and behind every tree. He’ll certainly have talked to anybody and everybody he met along the way. If we make inquiries, it’s only a matter of time before we pick up news of him.’
‘Norfolk is a large county. It could take us all day.’
‘I don’t think so. We’ll be crossing land where we know he’s already been.’
‘Is that why we’re heading south?’
‘South-east, Gervase. Towards the coast.’
‘The coast?’
‘That’s the way Starculf will be going.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I don’t,’ confessed the other. ‘But it’s what I’d do if all the roads were being watched. Even if Starculf slips past a posse and crosses the boundary, the lord sheriff’s writ runs in Suffolk and he has influence in the other neighbouring counties. If he stays on land, Starculf will never be safe.’
The Elephants of Norwich Page 23
