‘He usually carried both,’ de Gifford put in.
‘Very well! Along comes an armed Teb and the assailant, knowing as well as you, Gervase, about the cudgel and the knife, plays for safety and jumps him from behind. He slings a rope round Teb’s neck — and it’s then that the strands of hair become entwined — and perhaps loops another bit of the rope round Teb’s wrists so as to render him helpless. Then he pulls him across to the oak tree, throws the free end round the branch and, before Teb can do anything to save himself, hauls him off the ground so that he strangles to death. Then the killer climbs the tree and ties the rope in a knot, with the thought in mind that anyone recognising Teb will think what the Abbess just suggested. That Teb Bell hanged himself, perhaps from grief that his brother Walter cannot be found and is presumed dead.’
‘A clever murderer,’ de Gifford said slowly.
The Abbess did not look convinced. ‘Sir Josse, could that not still be what really happened — that Teb Bell took his own life — despite the two contrary indications that you describe to us?’
‘No, my lady.’ He looked sadly at her, wishing in that moment that he could agree and say yes, suicide was the more likely verdict. ‘For there is one more thing. You saw the body, did you not?’
‘You know I did,’ she said, her voice barely audible. ‘You and I stood together beside his cot after Sister Euphemia had prepared him for us.’
‘And did you observe his neck?’
‘I — yes. There were the marks of the rope.’ She lowered her eyes. ‘It was quite dreadful.’
‘Aye, and I’m sorry to make you see those images again.’ Had de Gifford not been present, he might have gone to stand by her side and given her a brief, reassuring touch on the shoulder. ‘But there is a reason for my insensitivity,’ he plunged on, making himself ignore her distress.
‘And that is?’ She spoke from behind the hand that momentarily covered her mouth.
‘I implied just now that a man who is hanged by being hauled off his feet by the rope around his neck will, in all probability, strangle to death. If, however, that man climbs to a height and then flings himself off it, the rope round his throat will probably break his neck.’
There was silence in the room. Then de Gifford said, ‘I take it that the branch was sufficiently high but that there was no broken neck?’
‘The branch was high enough, aye,’ Josse said heavily. ‘And no, as far as I am able to tell, Teb Bell’s neck wasn’t broken.’
De Gifford gave a sigh. Then he said, ‘It is as you fear, Josse. We are looking for a murderer.’
Josse turned to him. ‘Aye. And, unless we find or hear word of Walter Bell alive and well, it may prove to be the case that this unknown murderer has killed more than once.’
Chapter 7
Gervase de Gifford requested a second look at the dead body; he did not say so but Helewise guessed that the wished to verify for himself what Josse had said about the rope marks on the wrists and the neck not having been broken. He was gone for some time — Josse went with him — but then she heard the sound of their boots in the cloister outside her room and called out to them to come in.
‘I have seen all I need to see, my lady Abbess,’ de Gifford said. ‘It is as Josse described and I shall be able to give evidence as to the manner of death, should the man’s killer be apprehended.’
‘And do you think that he will be?’ she asked.
He gave a faint shrug, elegant, as were all his movements. ‘I cannot say. At present, with so little information to help us that we do not have even so much as a starting point, I have my doubts.’
She was about to comment on that but Josse forestalled her. ‘Would it not be an idea to look for the missing brother?’
‘For Walter.’ De Gifford glanced at him. ‘Yes, Josse, I’ve already thought of that. As you will recall, I came up to the Abbey to warn the community that Walter Bell might be on his way here. But this was not the only place I was searching for him. My men are asking after him in other areas too.’
A thought had struck Helewise and, as soon as de Gifford had finished speaking, she expressed it. ‘Have you surmised any valid reason why Walter Bell should have wanted to visit the Abbey?’ she asked him. ‘I do not recall that we discussed that aspect in any great depth before.’
‘Indeed not, my lady, and as to his purpose here, I can still only guess.’
‘Was the man sick?’ Josse demanded. ‘Injured, perhaps?’
‘We wondered, but if that was his reason for coming then for sure he did not arrive,’ she said quickly, ‘for there is no man who resembles the dead brother at present being treated in the infirmary.’
‘Aye, and no pilgrim who bears the Bell features down in the Vale,’ Josse agreed.
‘In which case,’ de Gifford said slowly, ‘we must conclude that either Walter Bell did not get to Hawkenlye — perhaps was not even making for here in the first place — or that he is here but does not wish us to know that he is.’
‘You mean that he’s spying on us? Spying on someone here?’ Helewise asked. ‘That perhaps he wishes to do harm to one of our community or one of the many people currently taking refuge here? You suggested something similar before when you spoke of Teb Bell planning to search up the hill for the missing Walter and you implied that both brothers might be after a third party.’
‘Yes, my lady.’ De Gifford looked solemn. ‘That’s exactly what I mean. It is why I originally came to warn you. I was worried then but I confess that, after today’s discovery, I am now even more anxious.’ He looked at Josse, who was standing frowning heavily beside him. ‘I find the picture that you painted for us, Josse, quite plausible. Walter may indeed be dead and the same man who murdered him may have been the killer of Teb. But what if Walter is still alive? What if he suspects someone sheltering here at Hawkenlye of having killed his brother? It is, after all, no great distance from the Abbey to the place where we found Teb. Walter is, as I have told you, a violent man. Even if he did not bear any strong love for his brother, I do not believe he would leave Teb’s murder unavenged.’
‘It comes back to finding Walter!’ Josse exclaimed in exasperation. ‘There are so many ifs and maybes that I see no other way forward.’
‘I agree,’ de Gifford said decisively. ‘I shall return to Tonbridge now, my lady, with your permission — ’
‘Of course.’
‘- and see if there has been any word or sighting of Walter Bell. If I make haste, I shall be back in my own home by the time darkness falls.’ He gave Helewise a deep bow, Josse a rather sketchier one, and then he was gone.
‘He is a man,’ Josse observed into the silence left in de Gifford’s wake, ‘who seems always to move with elegance and deliberation, yet there is a vibrant energy about him that belies that impression.’
‘I too have marked it,’ she agreed. ‘We are lucky to have him.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘Remember Harry Pelham?’
‘God’s boots, aye!’ Josse gave a tut of remembered annoyance. Then, apparently noticing the blasphemy, mumbled, ‘I apologise, my lady.’
‘Your apology is accepted,’ she murmured. Then: ‘What should we now do, think you, Sir Josse? Is it worthwhile to make another check of our visitors to make quite sure that Walter Bell is not among them?’
‘That was my thought,’ he said, nodding. ‘And I’ve thought of something else; it is too late for further investigation tonight, but tomorrow, with your leave, I’ll take Saul and Gussie with me and have a good hunt through the nearer reaches of the forest, in case Bell is out there living rough while he plans his next move.’
‘Yes, I will gladly give you leave. But’ — she met his earnest brown eyes — ‘I am happy that you restrain your impatience and do not propose starting your hunt today.’
He smiled. ‘I admit that I am tempted, but it would be fruitless because in the fading light we would miss anything there was to find. Oh!’