Eleanor briefly wondered if the priory’s ale brewer ever gave the crowner and his wife the occasional gift of the beverage. Ale was considered calming for a pregnant woman, although she thought Ralf might need it more than Gytha when the time came for the birthing.
“I had already talked with the prior about what he had seen,” Ralf said. “The details were the same as those reported by Sister Anne. Then I confirmed all with Brother Thomas.”
The monk concurred.
“The clerk, Jean, had no fever, and his symptoms were no different from anyone else who has had too much to drink the night before.” The crowner laughed. “I know the signs well myself.” He blushed and looked away. “Or did before my marriage.”
“Did our sub-infirmarian know that the lad had not improved with the treatment she sent with this unidentified clerk?”
“No, but she was uneasy when she heard nothing. She knew she was not welcome at the guest quarters but did send a lay brother to offer advice or answer questions. He was refused admittance, told that all the clerks were busy with the investigation of the priory, and promised his message would be relayed.” Ralf shrugged. “I talked with the French servant who guards the priest’s gate. He didn’t welcome my questions, but a coin with an English king’s head serves as well as one engraved PHILIPVS REX. After payment for his time, he confirmed that a lay brother had come from the hospital and was sent away with the excuse reported.”
Eleanor waited, then asked, “To whom did this man give the message?”
“He gave it to one of the clerks but could not recall which one.” Ralf scowled.
Brother Thomas turned to his friend. “Might the man’s testimony be suspect? You paid him for the truth. Someone else might have paid him more to lie to you.”
For a long moment, Ralf stared at the wooden crossbeams in the ceiling. “It matters not if he was asked to lie about the clerk to whom he gave the message. It only matters that his story about the hospital lay brother confirms that of Sister Anne.”
“Now we have evidence that Sister Anne acted responsibly within the limits imposed upon her by the priest.” Eleanor gestured for Gracia to refill the mazers. “You also spoke with the lay brother who went to the priest with her message?”
Ralf nodded.
Putting down the pitcher and almost dancing with enthusiasm, the maid turned to her mistress.
Eleanor smiled. “Do you have something to add, Gracia?” How like a child and yet how unlike one, the prioress thought. She never knew which aspect of the maid would manifest itself.
“While the crowner was questioning Sister Anne, the clerk, Renaud, was very displeased when she offered an analysis of the cause of death.”
“Was he now?” Eleanor folded her arms.
“Until that moment, he had remained silent and busy writing down the testimony,” the girl added.
“Well noted,” Ralf said. “Sister Anne had had time to think about the presence of autumn crocus in the clerk’s room. From what she was able to learn about the symptoms, and what I told her about the corpse, she is convinced that Jean was poisoned with it. There are other lethal herbs that exhibit similar symptoms and cause death in the same number of days, but she saw no reason to think another method had been used when the autumn crocus was inexplicably found at the bedside. Once again, she confirmed that she had sent only chamomile and ginger with the elusive, hooded clerk. When she said that, Renaud stopped writing and insisted that she was lying.”
Gracia enthusiastically nodded.
“He demanded that her opinion be deleted from his record for he believed it was only an attempt to hide either her murderous intent or her incompetence and carelessness.” The crowner snorted. “Careless? Incompetent? Ignorant whelp!”
Knowing Ralf had more to say, Eleanor said nothing, raised an eyebrow, and waited.
The crowner leaned forward to continue. “I asked him what experience he brought to the matter of solving crimes. He confessed he had none as such, but he was knowledgeable in debate over higher matters pertaining to Heaven. I told him to use those skills when he took vows and let me deal with more worldly problems. I am crowner here. Heaven may be the Church’s realm, but murder is mine.”
Eleanor laughed.
“That did silence him,” Gracia said, her eyes twinkling.
Ralf’s eyes shifted to look at a fat loaf of bread, fresh from Sister Matilda’s oven and sitting on the nearby table.
“What was your opinion after you heard Sister Anne’s answers to your questions, Ralf?” Eleanor tilted her head toward the crusty bread, smiled at her maid, and looked back at the crowner.
Gracia brought the warm loaf to the crowner, who eagerly tore off a large piece and gave the maid a wide smile.
Chomping down on his fistful of bread, the crowner continued. “When have I ever doubted Sister Anne’s conclusions in these matters? She had no doubt that it was murder. Neither do I. The problem is how to convince that thick-skulled priest…” He turned aside and coughed in an effort to keep from insulting the other representatives of God in the room whom he considered friends.
Eleanor covered her mouth to hide her amusement.
“The use of autumn crocus as a treatment for gout is not widely known, but Sister Anne said its use as a poison has been recognized for centuries. What she did not understand was how it got to the clerk’s room. When I told her that the remedy had disappeared from the chest in the apothecary hut, she was horrified.”
“Nor was Renaud pleased when he heard this, my lady,” Gracia added.
“Why do you say that?” Ralf looked with curiosity at this maid. “I did not see anything to suggest such a reaction, nor did he voice any concerns.”
“Did you not smell him, my lord?” Gracia wrinkled her nose. “He stank of fear.”
Ralf eyes widened in surprise. Although he was an observant man, body odor was not something to which he paid much attention, other than the flowery scent his wife gave off when he held her. Knowing he had flushed with the thought, he lowered his head and muttered, “No, child, but then I was concentrating on what Sister Anne was saying.” He glanced up at the prioress.
“You are keen,” Eleanor said to the girl. “What else did you notice about the clerk?”
“He twitched a lot as soon as Sister Anne began discussing the effects of autumn crocus. The more she explained, the more his face lost color.” She paused, then noticed the crowner seemed eager for her to continue. “When you finished questioning our sub-infirmarian, and he began packing up his writing instruments, I think I saw him weeping. I am not certain about that, but I would swear his cheeks glistened in the candlelight.”
“His tears are consistent with his grief over the death of his fellow clerk.” Eleanor shook her head. “His protest that her conclusions were as faulty as her cure might have been a loyal repetition of his master’s own assumption. What I do not understand is why he showed fear, not bewilderment or even anger, over the theft of the autumn crocus. Does he know who Brother Imbert is, or is he afraid he knows who is involved in this death, someone he wishes were not?”
“We have never asked him for the name of the person who administered the remedy to Jean. Was Renaud really the one to give Jean the medicine? Perhaps he is taking the blame, for reasons he has not told anyone, when he truly had no part at all in his companion’s death,” Thomas said.
“So many questions,” Eleanor said. “We have yet to identify this Brother Imbert. Renaud must be questioned further. I suspect he does know far more than he has said. Maybe Father Etienne ordered the lad to keep silent.”
The three were briefly interrupted when a lay sister brought a tray from the kitchen.