An Ensuing Evil and Others

by Peter Tremayne

  “Of course. Much more. However, this is hardly a woman’s work.”

  “With that, I agree.” MacBeth was emphatic.

  The door opened, and Garban the steward reentered. “Segan is having his wound redressed. Can I render more assistance?”

  “Find the maid Margreg and bring her here,” instructed MacBeth.

  The brehon held up a hand to stay him. “You knew the prince Malcolm well, didn’t you?”

  Garban blinked in surprise and shrugged. “That is common knowledge. I was employed in the house of Bodhe before I took service with my lord MacBeth. I taught young Malcolm to ride his first horse. His death grieves me sorely.”

  “Indeed,” sighed the brehon, and dismissed him with a wave.

  When Garban had gone, MacBeth turned to Cothromanach. “Let us hear from the maid’s own lips that we were in our beds at the time the deed was done,” he told the brehon. “Then you may be able to quench any malicious rumors which may be spread about us.”

  “You are sensitive on this matter,” observed the brehon.

  “I know my grandfather, the High King, and my cousin, Duncan Mac Crinan,” MacBeth said grimly.

  “So be it,” Cothromanach sighed.

  Margreg was young and youthful, scarcely seventeen. She was dark haired, fair skinned, and attractive, and what is more, she knew it. There was a boldness about her that might have been interpreted by some as a speculative lasciviousness.

  She entered the chamber, dropped a half-curtsy to MacBeth, and was about to acknowledge the venerable brehon when her eyes caught sight of the body on the floor. Her features wrinkled distastefully, but she did not avert her gaze.

  “The brehon wishes to ask you a few questions,” MacBeth said, stepping to one side and motioning the brehon to proceed.

  “You are maidservant to the Lady Gruoch?”

  “You know so,” retorted the girl with confidence. “You are as familiar with this castle as I am.”

  Cothromanach suppressed a sigh of irritation. “This is an official inquiry, girl. Just answer my questions and leave your impudence for those who appreciate it.”

  The girl pouted in annoyance. “Yes. I am maid to the Lady Gruoch.”

  “How long have you held that position?”

  “Full one year since she came to this castle with her baby in search of sanctuary.”

  “Did you attend your mistress at bedtime.”

  “I did. Her dressing room is next door to the bedchamber, and that is where the baby, Lulach, sleeps, and that is where I sleep, as well. I helped her undress and prepare for bed. That was just after the feasting.”

  “So you sleep in the next chamber. Were you disturbed in the night?”

  “Yes. I awoke and heard the baby coughing. He is a good little soul but inclined to a night cough. So I arose and tended the child. I had quietened him and was about to go back to bed when I heard a door open and footsteps in the corridor. Curiosity made me go to the door, and I looked out.”

  MacBeth had turned with a frown. “What time was this?”

  The girl shrugged. “I have no means of knowing, my lord. It was dark and cold, and the embers in the fire I had built in the chamber were gray.” She turned to Cothromanach. “I try to keep a fire going through the night for the good of the baby. Warm air eases his poor little chest.”

  “You said that you went to the door and looked out,” MacBeth observed heavily. “What did you see?”

  “The Lady Gruoch, walking down the corridor. She was carrying something in her hand.”

  “How could you see that it was her? Did you or she have a candle?” asked the brehon quickly.

  The girl shook her head. “No. There are torches kept alight in the corridor there.”

  “So the Lady Gruoch left the bedchamber during the night?” pressed MacBeth unnecessarily.

  “What time did she return?” demanded the brehon.

  “I do not know. Having seen that it was my lady, I simply returned to my bed, for it was chill, as I have said, and I was asleep in no time.”

  “Were you disturbed again?”

  “Yes. I thought me barely asleep when I awoke and found my lady bending over me. She said she could not sleep and asked me to prepare her a goblet of mulled wine. I did so.”

  “And you had no idea when that was either, I suppose?” sighed MacBeth.

  “Oh yes. It was not long before Garban came and knocked at your chamber door. I prepared the wine and went in, finding the lady Grouch sitting up in bed. You were there also, my noble lord, fast asleep by her side. I don’t think that you had been disturbed at all during the night, for you were deep in sleep and… and snoring with a sound fit to wake the dead.” She grinned provocatively at him.

  “How long was it before Garban came to our chamber?” he snapped.

  “I went back to bed but could not sleep. Perhaps he came within the hour. I cannot be sure, only that it was not very long.”

  The brehon looked troubled. “The Lady Gruoch told you that she could confirm you were by her side all night. Yet now we find that she left the bed, and who is to provide her with an alibi? We must send for her again.”

  Lady Gruoch stood before them shortly afterward. She looked guilty but not alarmed. “Yes. I left the chamber. I have already told you that I do not sleep well. That was the reason why I asked the maid Margreg to fetch me mulled wine.”

  “But you were seen going down the corridor,” pointed out the brehon. “Where did you go, lady?”

  The Lady Gruoch raised her chin defiantly. “If you must know, I came to see my brother.”

  MacBeth looked unhappy. He glanced at Cothromanach, who was gazing thoughtfully at her. “This is a sensitive matter, lady. You know of what you might be accused? You know why I need to clarify the matter?”

  “I know it well enough, my lord. But I came here for a purpose that I would keep between myself and his soul. All you need to know is that my brother was well and alive when I came here. Furthermore, when I left him, he was still alive and well.”

  “That is not all I need to know, madam!” MacBeth almost shouted.

  “Softly, noble lord,” intervened the brehon. Then he turned to Lady Gruoch. “But in truth, the noble lord is right, madam. We need to know the reason that you came here like a thief in the night. What intercourse could you have with your brother that needed such secrecy as to be conducted in the blackness of the night, that needed to be kept secret from your own husband?”

  The Lady Gruoch was flushed and unhappy. She gazed at MacBeth for several moments and turned back to the brehon. “Very well. You will already have the evidence, so I will confess to you.”

  MacBeth groaned helplessly. “Evidence? What are you saying, lady?”

  “It is common knowledge that my brother, Malcolm, was going to claim the High Kingship when my husband’s grandfather dies or abdicates the throne at Sgain. It is well known that MacBeths cousin, Duncan, is favored to succeed. Yet he is not the choice of the people, even in Atholl. My brother planned to raise the clans of Moray against Sgain. For that he needed money. I was given many jewels by my husband as wedding gifts when I married him. Much that I owned perished in Gillecomgains castle. So I decided that my brother could make better use of the gifts from MacBeth.”

  “You say that you brought these jewels to your brother in the middle of the night?” asked MacBeth doubtfully.

  “It was just after midnight, an appointment that I had arranged with my brother last evening so that no one would know of the gift.”

  “Was his door secured?”

  “Yes. It was bolted, but he opened when he heard my voice call to him.”

  “You say that you left him alive?”

  “I did so. He secured the door after me.”

  “And you went straightaway back to your bedchamber?”

  “I did. And that was, as I say, just after midnight.”

  “The trouble is that you have no witness that he was alive when you left here,” th
e brehon sighed.

  “I did not think I needed a witness. I understood from Margreg that the servant Segan disturbed the killer and was knocked unconscious by him some hours after I left my brother. That shows that I am innocent of the deed.”

  As she had been speaking, the elderly brehon had been examining the room very carefully.

  “What is it?” demanded MacBeth curiously. “What do you seek?”

  Cothromanach looked at him and smiled thinly. “Why, a bag of jewels, what else?”

  Lady Gruoch stared at him in disbelief. “You found no jewels? But that was the evidence that I thought you had and would trace them to my ownership. Why…”

  MacBeth, ignoring her, was also searching the room carefully. Finally he stood before her.

  “There are no jewels here, madam,” he observed heavily.

  “I do not understand it. He would not have given them to anyone else for safekeeping unless…” Her eyes widened as she stared at her husband.

  MacBeth turned to the brehon. “Do we not have another motive before us, Cothromanach? The assassin was not solely a murderer but a thief.”

  “It would appear so. Yet, let me remind you, noble lord, that the killer, thief or no, was still known to the prince. Why else would the killer be let into the chamber, why else would the prince have turned his back on the hand that then struck him down?”

  MacBeth bowed his head in thought. Then he smiled grimly. “I have an idea. Garban!”

  The servant came forward.

  “Are the gates still secured and my sentinels in place?”

  “Not even a mouse could have left this castle without them being aware of it, noble lord.”

  “Good. Then we shall search for Lady Gruoch’s jewels. I doubt whether our assassin has had time to dispose of them.”

  “Very well, noble lord. Where shall I start?”

  MacBeth looked through the opened door into the corridor. “We will start with Segan’s chamber, it being nearest. Proceed, Garban. You, madam, will return to your chamber until I send for you.”

  MacBeth and Cothromanach followed the elderly steward into the servants bedchamber. As Garban entered, he seemed to stumble and reached out a hand to steady himself on the wall. He cut short an exclamation and brought his hand away. His fingertips were stained with blood.

  MacBeth asked Garban to bring a candle, which he did. There was a small patch of blood on the wall, at shoulder level.

  Garban began to make a diligent search, and it was not long before, examining beneath the bed, he emerged with a cry of triumph. He held out a small leather sack. They watched with fascination as he opened it and poured its contents on the bed. The muddle of jewels glittered and sparkled in the candlelight.

  “Are they the jewels that you gave to the Lady Gruoch?” demanded the brehon.

  “They are, indeed,” replied MacBeth with satisfaction. “Garban, fetch the servant Segan back here, but do not mention this discovery to him.”

  “I understand, noble lord,” Garban said with a grim smile.

  Cothromanach the brehon looked thoughtfully at MacBeth. “Did you expect to find the jewels here?”

  “As soon as I heard my wife’s explanation-yes. I began to understand how and why this foul deed was done.”

  “Explain your deduction, my lord.”

  “Not hard. This is what I believe happened: Maybe the prince Malcolm told his servant that he would be receiving the jewels from his sister. Maybe Segan saw the Lady Gruoch come to his master’s chamber and observed her entering with the sack. It was not politics that motivated Segan but greed. He waited until the castle was quiet and then he went to rouse his master by tapping at the door. Malcolm let him into the chamber, half-asleep. Seeing only Segan, a servant he trusted, he turned his back on him. That was when Segan struck. Two swift but fatal stabs in the back. He found the sack of jewels and took them back to his own bedchamber and hid them where we have now discovered them.”

  “How then did Segan receive his own injuries?”

  “Easy to tell. He had his story ready, that the murderer had stood behind the door and had given him a blow on the head which rendered him unconscious so that he could not recognize who it was. But this was the difficult part. Have you ever tried to give yourself a blow on the back of the head? Nevertheless, he needed some visual sign to show that he had been attacked. In fact, I might not have spotted the flaw in his story had not you realized it.”

  “That the injury was in the front?”

  “Exactly. He went to the wall and banged his head against it, causing the abrasion. Then he pretended that he had just come round and went to rouse Garban with the news of his attack.”

  MacBeth suddenly smiled and pointed to a small bloodstain on the wall. It was shoulder high, where a man might have banged his head to make the abrasion. “I presume we do not have to explain that mark away?”

  The brehon sighed. “It is a stupid man who leaves such a trail of clues.”

  Just then Segan entered the chamber with Garban close behind him.

  He stared from MacBeth to the brehon with a slight flicker of puzzlement in his eyes. Then his glance fell on the bed and the pile of jewelry.

  “My lord, this…,” he began, taking a step forward.

  Then he froze, his eyes round in surprise. He half twisted and attempted to reach for something at his side. Garban withdrew the six-inch blade from the young man.

  He watched dispassionately as the servant fell to the floor.There was no need to examine the body. Segan was dead long before he hit the floor.

  “He was reaching for his knife,” Garban explained. “He meant to harm you, noble lord.”

  “A pity,” muttered Cothromanach. “Better to have him live awhile and receive his punishment as a warning to all thieves and murderers.”

  “Indeed,” MacBeth acknowledged grimly. “Have the body removed, Garban, and have those jewels gathered up and returned to the Lady Gruoch. I will walk a way with you, Cothromanach.”

  The brehon glanced at him. “You are still anxious, noble lord?”

  “There are still willing tongues to spread rumors. Many will be quick to lay the blame for this at my door.”

  “Have no fear. I shall write my account to my fellow brehons throughout the land. They shall know what has transpired here.”

  MacBeth smiled in thanks and, hauling his cloak more tightly around his shoulders, turned and made his way back to his bedchamber. Dawn now filled the castle with a gray, cold light.

  After the morning meal, while the light was still gray and cold, MacBeth found old Garban on the ramparts of the castle.

  He was standing in a quiet corner away from the scrutiny of the guards, leaning with his back to the ramparts. “A close call, noble lord,” observed the old man as he turned and peered over the ramparts, looking down into the rocky ravine below. “I had to kill him.”

  “Indeed you did,” agreed MacBeth, pleasantly enough. “Yet the plan was nearly ruined by not clearing away the extra candle stub.”

  “It is easy to make a mistake. But all ended well. After Lady Gruoch left her brother, I knocked on the door, and the prince opened it, knowing it was I. The problem was that his falling body was heard by Segan, who came and knocked on the door. Had I not opened, he would have roused the entire castle. So I let him in and gave him a blow on the back of the head. While he lay unconscious, I struck him on the temple, for I knew that this might arouse suspicion.Then I hid the jewels in his bedchamber, in case we needed evidence, and also spread his wall with his blood to make it look as though he had faked his wound by dashing his forehead there. Then, to confuse him over the time the deed was committed, I exchanged the burning candle with a new one, which would put his timing out by an hour or two.”

  “That was the mistake you made, in dropping the stub of the first candle on the floor and not taking it with you,” observed MacBeth. “It could have made the brehon suspicious.”

  “None of us are perfect, noble lord,
” sniffed the old servant.

  “True enough.”

  “And now you stand one step closer to the throne at Sgain, noble lord. Prince Malcolm is no longer your rival, and the Lady Gruoch is there to support you.”

  “True again.”

  “You have much to thank me for, noble lord.” Garban smiled. “I trust I will be properly rewarded.”

  “That I have and that you shall,” agreed MacBeth, and turning swiftly, he gave the old man a violent push, sending him flying over the rampart. There was scarcely time for Garban to scream as he plummeted downward into the rocky chasm below.

  MacBeth turned and, seeing that he was unobserved, allowed a smile of satisfaction to spread over his features.

  AN ENSUING EVIL

  Yet I can give you inkling

  Of an ensuing evil…

  — Henry VIII, Act II, Scene i

  “It’s a body, Master Constable.”

  Master Hardy Drew, Constable of the Bankside Watch, stared in distaste at the wherryman. “I have eyes to see with,” he replied sourly. “Just tell me how you came by it.”

  The stocky boatman put a hand to the back of his head and scratched as if this action were necessary to the process of summoning up his memories. “It were just as we turned midriver to the quay here,” the wherryman began. “We’d brought coal up from Greenwich. I was guiding the barge in when we spotted the body in the river, and so we fished it out.”

  Master Drew glanced down to the body sprawled in a sodden mess on the dirty deck of the coal barge.

  The finding of bodies floating in the Thames was not an unusual occurrence. London was a cesspool of suffering humanity, especially along these banks between London Bridge and Bankside. Master Drew had not been Constable of the Watch for three years without becoming accustomed to bodies being trawled out of this stretch of water whose southern bank came under his policing jurisdiction. Cutthroats, footpads, and all manner of the criminal scum of the city found the river a convenient place to rid themselves of their victims. And it was not just those who had died violent deaths who were disposed of in the river, but also corpses of the poor, sick and diseased, whose relatives couldn’t afford a church burial. The pollution of the water had become so bad that this very year a water reservoir, claimed to be the first of its kind in all Europe, had been opened at Clerkenwell to supply fresh water for the city.