‘What would that be?’ Leofgar turned to glare at him, his emotions clearly still running high.
‘I ought to explain to you that we have learned a little about the Bell brothers from Gervase de Gifford. When Teb Bell was found hanged close to the Abbey, we postulated that perhaps he had been on his way to Hawkenlye to look for Walter. He had been overheard down in Tonbridge saying that he was going up the hill to hunt for somebody. Now that phrase up the hill, in Tonbridge parlance, is usually taken to mean Hawk enlye Abbey, and we all surmised that Teb Bell was intending to go to Hawkenlye to find Walter, who was missing.’
‘Of course he was missing,’ Leofgar said coldly. ‘My wife set my hounds on him and they had just killed him.’
‘Aye, I know.’ Josse waved an impatient hand; he was trying to follow a twisting path of a tale and did not want to be interrupted. ‘Then, when another piece of the pattern was revealed, we thought that Teb Bell had a very different quarry in mind. We — or rather Gervase de Gifford — thought that Teb was probably aware that Walter was dead and was in fact on his way to Hawkenlye in pursuit of his brother’s killer.’
‘Me,’ Leofgar supplied.
‘You did not kill him,’ Josse said swiftly.
Leofgar shrugged. ‘He died in my house and we have but the word of my wife that she killed him to defend herself and her child.’
‘Her word is good enough for me.’
Leofgar gave him a bright look. ‘Thank you, Josse.’ Then: ‘But if Teb Bell was in truth coming to Hawkenlye to look for me, who strung him up on that branch?’ His face darkening with sudden realisation, he said, ‘Josse, I swear to you that I didn’t, although by this reasoning anyone would conclude that I had abundant motive.’
‘That is true,’ Josse agreed, ‘but I do not believe you killed Teb Bell.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Leofgar appeared genuinely curious. ‘I hope,’ he added with a small laugh, ‘that it is not your feelings towards my mother that are speaking.’
‘Your mother-’ No. Josse really did not want to discuss Helewise with her son. ‘No,’ he said instead. ‘It is merely that I recognise an honest man when I see one. You, Leofgar, would hold your head up high when accused of something that you had truly done and shout yes, I did it, so what?’
Surprisingly amid that grim conversation, Leofgar burst out laughing. ‘How long have we known one another, Josse?’ he asked, still amused.
‘Oh — a matter of days, and not closely at that.’
‘What a good judge you are,’ Leofgar murmured. ‘Pride and a tendency to run my head straight into stone walls were ever my devils.’ Then, his face straightening, he said, ‘Who, then, murdered Teb Bell?’
Instead of further surmise, Josse said, ‘There is another man in this tangle of whom I have not yet spoken. He was probably an associate of both the Bell brothers; certainly of Teb, with whom he was observed talking in the tavern at Tonbridge, when Teb spoke of coming up the hill. This man has demanded that Gervase de Gifford organise a hunt for Walter Bell, whom he claims was last heard of making his way to your house to try to resolve this rumoured dispute between you and the brothers.’
‘There is no dispute! I never met either Bell alive!’
‘I know,’ Josse reassured him. ‘I realise now that the whole business of the dispute is but a diversionary tactic to hide from us the true heart of this business. But for the life of me, I have absolutely no idea what that true heart can be!’
‘Who is this man who makes up lies about me?’ Leofgar said, an edge of menace in his voice.
‘His name is Arthur Fitzurse.’
‘Arthur Fitzurse.’ Slowly Leofgar shook his head. ‘It means nothing. What does he look like?’
Josse brought the man to mind. ‘His age is perhaps in the mid-thirties; he is well dressed, greying dark hair, dark eyes and a thin, discontented sort of a face.’
‘No,’ Leofgar said. ‘No, I do not believe I know him.’
Why, then, Josse wondered, staring hard at Leofgar, should he know you?
It seemed that Leofgar was thinking much the same thing. ‘It must seem strange to you, Josse, that this man who makes up such fictions about me is unknown to me?’
‘Aye, it does,’ Josse agreed. ‘I would guess that Fitzurse is behind the activities of the Bell brothers. It is his hand, I am certain, that directed Walter Bell to search your house.’
Leofgar sighed. ‘We come back to our starting point,’ he said. ‘We must find out what Walter Bell was looking for.’
Josse glanced up at the darkening sky, in which the first stars were appearing. ‘It grows late,’ he observed, ‘and high time you and I were making our way to the safety of our lodgings.’ He glanced at Leofgar, who gave a faint twist of a smile, as if to say, no, I’m still not going to tell you where we’re hiding. ‘I will return to the Abbey,’ Josse continued, ‘and tomorrow I will speak to Gervase de Gifford.’ He hesitated. ‘Have I your permission to reveal what you have just told me?’ he asked gently.
‘I have been asking myself the same question,’ Leofgar said. ‘To my mother, yes. For one thing’ — he shot Josse a pen etrating look — ‘I would guess that you and she have few secrets; for another, I did not feel easy when we were to- gether at the Abbey for I was all too aware that she knew I was hiding something from her, something very grave. So, to have her know the truth would be a relief to me.’
‘Very well. I shall tell her exactly what you have told me.’
‘Thank you. As for de Gifford — Josse, what do you think? You know the man far better than I, I imagine?’
‘Aye, and I judge him to be decent, incorruptible and fair.’ He paused — for in truth this young man’s life or, worse, his wife’s, might well hang in the balance and Josse did not want to be responsible for delivering either of them to a judgement that they did not deserve — then he said, ‘I believe that it is safe also to tell Gervase de Gifford. He will not rush to accuse you of deeds that you have not done and will, I think, view with compassion and understanding the events that took place in your hall.’
‘You believe,’ Leofgar murmured. ‘You think. Josse, can we take the risk?’
‘Aye,’ Josse said firmly. ‘Although I will not speak to him if you ask me not to.’
Leofgar thought for some time. Then he said, ‘I put myself in your hands, Josse. Do what you think best.’
Then, leaving Josse staggering under the weight of that awesome responsibility, Leofgar gave him a graceful bow and, turning, hurried away down the track. In next to no time he had vanished from view.
Slowly, thoughtfully, Josse made his way back to the Abbey.
Although it was fully dark and quite late by the time he was safely within the walls, Josse went to find the Abbess. She was sitting in her room, working as usual on the big ledgers and now by the light of a pair of candles. As she looked up with a welcoming smile, the soft light threw shadows on to her face and he read the worry and tension in her as easily — more easily, for he was an inept reader at best — than words on a page.
‘I have not found Walter Bell,’ he said as soon as the door was shut fast and their greetings exchanged, ‘but’ — he dropped his voice to a whisper — ‘I did meet your son.’
Her eyes widened and a hand flew to her mouth. ‘Is he all right?’
‘He is well, my lady. He has taken Rohaise and the child to some safe place whose whereabouts he would not tell me but he assured me they are safe and are being well looked after.’
‘He — but what if Walter Bell finds him? With Teb dead and the distinct possibility that he was coming here searching for Leofgar, it is surely-’
‘There is no danger from Walter Bell,’ Josse interrupted quietly. ‘He’s dead.’
Then, as succinctly as he could, he told the Abbess what had happened that awful day in the hall of the Old Manor.
When he had finished — it did not take long, mainly because she heard him out without one single interruption — she said, looking uncannily like her son and using exactly the same words, ‘We must find out what Walter Bell was looking for.’