No matter that a Bishop had died; God’s work on earth continued.
The Precentor set his jaw. There was also this other matter of the man who had been heard running as that girl was killed. Should he report Father Laurence, or merely question him again? He would have to think about what to do.
Standing at the edge of the cloister, he stared up at the towers. He tried to imagine this marvellous building without the latticework of scaffolding, without all those masons and plumbers, carpenters and labourers, who swarmed up and down the ropes and beams like so many monkeys, and it was as he stood there, marvelling at the insanity of the men dangling precariously so high above the ground, that he saw Sir Baldwin and Sir Richard ambling from the guests’ chamber by the Palace Gate. They were on their way to see the Sheriff, he remembered.
With a sudden sigh of relief, Adam saw how he could delegate one task at least.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rougemont Castle, Exeter
Baldwin and Sir Richard stood in the small room before the hall. They had been waiting for some little while already. Edgar lounged at the doorway.
‘The Precentor was very keen for us to have a look at this dead woman, wasn’t he, Sir Baldwin?’
‘I think he has much on his plate, what with our news of the Bishop and the affairs that must inevitably attract his attention,’ Baldwin said.
‘Aye. So you think it’s fishy too, then, eh?’
Baldwin smiled. ‘It is possible that there was something else about this matter that he forgot to tell us,’ he said, tickling Wolf’s ear.
‘Hmm. The inquest will be this morning, he said, so we should hurry.’
‘If the Sheriff will permit us to leave him,’ Baldwin agreed, looking out through the window at the shadows.
Sir Richard followed his gaze. ‘We’ve been waiting a long time already. Do you think they forgot to tell him we were here?’
‘No. I think he intends to show us how unimportant we are,’ Baldwin said.
‘Eh?’ Sir Richard asked, baffled. Such rudeness was incomprehensible to him.
‘He demonstrates that he has lots of important business to get through, and we do not measure compared with his other, more pressing matters.’
‘Ah, he does, eh?’
‘And in case there could be no doubt, I am sure that he has a scale of time for which to hold men up without seeing them. Perhaps a squire would be so long, a knight a little less, a peasant still longer.’
‘But we said we have very important news,’ Sir Richard growled. ‘And we have an inquest to attend, since the Precentor asked us to witness it for him.’
‘Only for a murdered maidservant. All the more reason for him to keep us waiting, my friend.’
‘God’s blood, the arrogant puppy!’
Baldwin smiled. ‘There, I admit, I have to agree with you. Sir James de Cockington dislikes me. I was responsible, in part, for arresting his brother last year. I fear he believes that I have a feud against him and his family.’
‘Well, can’t let the fellow get away with that,’ Sir Richard said, and there was a gleam in his eye. ‘Come, sir.’
‘Where are we going?’ Baldwin asked as his companion began to clump his way to the door that led to the yard.
In answer, Sir Richard bawled at a page and beckoned. When the boy had joined them, Sir Richard glowered down at him.
‘It would seem your master the Sheriff is too busy to see us at present. We have urgent business, so tell him he can come to us when he is ready. We’ll be at the inquest at Combe Street. Please also tell him it is a shame he doesn’t have time to hear news which involves the security of the Cathedral here, and even of the Crown itself. Now, Sir Baldwin, we must hurry if we are to reach the inquest, I suppose?’
Combe Street near Paffards’ House
Emma had arrived early with her husband, but the jury had already gathered at the entrance to the alley. They couldn’t all fit inside, for there were sixteen men all told, none younger than fifteen.
The men were almost all known to Emma from the parish: a cobbler there from Combe Street, his brother who lived next door, a merchant who had once accused her husband Bydaud of defamation, damn his soul, but Bydaud had already won over too many friends in the city, and the fellow was forced to withdraw. Yes, looking over the grim faces, she knew them all.
‘Gentlemen, I am glad to see you all here for this sorry duty,’ the Coroner said, but quietly. He looked about him with a scowl as if daring any to ask him to speak more forcefully, and Emma tutted, wondering if this was his first inquest. He looked barely twenty. He was certainly younger than her.
‘Who’s he?’ Juliana asked. She had walked up behind Emma, and stood staring at the Coroner.
Emma was tempted to ignore her, but with all these people about, she had no desire to show herself mean-minded. ‘I’ve no idea. I’d have thought it would be better to have a man with a little more experience for this kind of task. This one looks as though he’s not yet drawn his sword in anger. He’s so young!’
‘Aren’t they all?’ Juliana said. ‘That’s probably why he hasn’t been called away to the King’s war.’
‘Lucky him,’ Emma said shortly. ‘We never win against the Scots. Not since the old King died.’
Helewisia Avice joined them, and Emma gave her a smile of welcome, which Juliana noticed. She felt a stab of hurt at the affirmation of friendship. Helewisia for her part greeted both with a reserve suited to the occasion. ‘You were talking about the old King?’
Juliana nodded. King Edward I, ‘the Hammer of the Scots’, was well-named, but since his death twenty years ago, the Scottish had always maintained the upper hand, even in Ireland for a while. ‘Who are those two?’
‘No idea,’ Emma said, following her pointing finger to stare at Baldwin and Sir Richard. Edgar lounged behind them, and Emma was suddenly shocked to observe that he was giving her an appraising look. He smiled languidly and she felt her face colour as she hurriedly averted her gaze. She was a married woman, and wanted no attention from a man like him. In any case, this was no place for dallying. They had a stern responsibility here.
The inquest was formal, the Coroner’s Clerk murmuring quiet instructions every so often when it appeared that the Coroner was becoming confused or lost, and then they reached the point where the girl must be viewed.
‘I have already viewed her body,’ the Coroner said. ‘Perhaps we should bring her out here, so the jury can study her?’ he added, glancing at his clerk.
The clerk, a weasely little man, gave a sharp frown and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, Sir Richard interrupted. His voice was like the rumble of a wagon on a poorly-made road, Emma thought; her ears ringing.
‘GOOD SIR REGINALD, WOULD YOU MIND IF WE TOOK A LOOK IN SITU?’
‘Who are you, sir?’
‘I am Sir Richard de Welles, Coroner of Lifton. I have some little experience of matters of this sort.’
The man scratched at his beard, and then when he shrugged and stood aside, the two knights and their escort walked past him and up the alley.
‘What can they hope to see up there?’ Juliana whispered.
Alley near Paffards’ House
‘Bit dark in here,’ Sir Richard rumbled as they stepped over the rubbish.
‘It is hardly congenial to an investigation,’ Baldwin agreed.
The alley was a mess. Baldwin saw the body of a cat lying in a corner: it was clear that the scavengers had not cleared through here in weeks, which was a surprise, bearing in mind that Paffard was a wealthy man. Such fellows tended to receive better service.