Lizzie stared at the knight as though he was mad. “Elias- kill? If you believe that, you’ll believe me when I say the sky’s green. This man here was the jealous one, not Elias. The baker just got lonely sometimes, and he’d ask me for company. No, Elias wouldn’t kill. This man was the one who wanted me all to himself.” She rose, gazing scornfully at the port-reeve, who stared back with a hurt surprise. “Anyway, I have work to do. I can’t sit here dreaming all day, and as far as I am concerned, I don’t want to sit anywhere near you, David Holcroft, ever again.” Spinning quickly, she flounced from the table.
“Now, David,” Baldwin said kindly. “I suppose you realize we have to know all about this? I can promise you that if it has no bearing on the killing, it will go no further.”
Holcroft gave a bitter smile. “Now Lizzie’s made up her mind, it’ll be all over the town. The Abbot’s bound to hear-and my wife.” He sighed.
“Well, Sir Baldwin, it’s a brief enough story. I was married when I was very young, and my wife is five years older than me. It was my father’s wish that we should be wed, for her father owned a good portion of land out toward Werrington, and that together with my family’s holding would have made a sizeable farm, but shortly after we married, my father died, and what with the debts he had at the time, the holdings were ruined. They had to be split up, and afterward there was less than when we married. Still, I grew to love her, and I was content.
“But lately she’s become reserved. It’s hard for me to get a word out of her, and at night she’s always tired, or has a headache. This has been going on for a good two months. Maybe it’s my fault. They say a man should beat his wife, but I never have.” He continued tiredly, “I’ve always worked hard at my trade, but three months ago she started complaining because she never saw me. I couldn’t stop, not with the job of port-reeve as well.”
There was a moment’s pause while Holcroft collected himself.
“I already knew Lizzie, and as you can see for yourself, any man would want her. Every time I saw her she asked how I was, and always had time to listen. She seemed to care. I suppose you could say I got infatuated with her. At first I’d come here for a quick drink on my way home, but recently I’ve been coming here just to see her. She takes an interest. It made her really desirable.” He took a long swallow of ale and met their eyes defensively.
“What did you argue about with Torre? Was it her?” Baldwin prompted quietly.
“No, Roger didn’t know about my feelings for her-Lizzie herself has told you that. No, it was the monk.”
“Monk? What monk?”
Hesitantly, Holcroft told of Peter and the near-fight with Torre.
“What was Torre on about?” asked Simon with incomprehension. “The Abbot seems a kindly man, not the sort to upset anyone.”
Holcroft gave him a hard look. “Robert Champeaux became Abbot here when the place was falling apart. The monks had no money, and everything they tried to do drained more of their resources until they were near desperation. Then Champeaux took over. All at once he found old papers which gave the Abbey certain rights, and he quickly took these up. He borrowed money, loaned money, made profits which he plowed back into new schemes, ever increasing the Abbey’s reserves. I believe he is an honorable man, and all he wishes to do is make sure that the Abbey is strong and protected for the future, but there are many who take a different view. They think he’s like all the others-simply lining his own pockets at the expense of all the townspeople.”
“And Torre thought that?” Baldwin probed.
“Yes. He thought the Abbot was victimizing him. Roger simply couldn’t understand that the Abbot would have treated anyone else exactly the same.”
“How was Torre treated?”
“Fairly enough. Roger was one of the Abbey’s bondmen-a serf. The Abbot is gradually letting men take on the land with leases for several years, because that way he can charge them annual rent but he can also get them to pay him extra with the amount they make. He was trying to get Roger to take on a lease, same as everyone else; the trouble was, Roger didn’t see it like that. All he could see was that he was being forced into a deal that would cost him many shillings a year to grow the food he depends on. That was why he hated the Abbot, and that was why he insulted him in front of the monk.”
“This monk you say was young Peter?”
“Yes. The boy is still a novice. He was happy to defend his master, just as any young squire or man-at-arms should. I don’t know how the Abbot would feel, but he should be grateful that one of his own would want to uphold his name and honor. Anyway, I had to stand between them and suggested the monk should leave before he got into a tavern brawl.”
“And Torre relaxed then?”
“No, Roger thought I was on the Abbot’s side and didn’t want to stay with me afterward. That was why he left me and went off with Lizzie.”
“Fine. So later, you went to wait at the door.”
“Yes,” Holcroft agreed heavily. “I saw Roger leave, and he pushed past me, sort of embarrassed. I just stood there until Lizzie came out. Then I went off home.”
“On your own?”
“I doubt whether anyone saw me. If they did, I wasn’t looking. I wasn’t in a good mood.”
“Why? You knew she was a prostitute,” Simon pointed out.
“I don’t know. Look, as I’ve said, my wife won’t talk to me any more, and Lizzie was sympathetic. You may think it stupid, just a puerile infatuation, but it felt real enough to me. Seeing her go off with Torre brought it home to me. I wanted to make her feel guilty, waiting there by the door. But I swear I had nothing to do with his murder.”
Baldwin nodded. “Now Lizzie has accused you of murder, you can hardly help in the inquest. Whatever we found with your help would be disbelieved. It would prejudice any findings.”
“You will have to tell the Abbot.”
“I will tell him nothing. All he needs know is that a woman from a tavern became hysterical and shouted your guilt. That is no proof, and I do not expect it to affect you. But it does put us in a difficult position. If we were to find the real culprit with your help, some might be willing to assume you had sought a scapegoat to protect yourself, and if people are prepared to believe that the Abbot is devious,” he held up a hand to stop the port-reeve’s protestations, “they might also spread rumors that an innocent was hanged to protect the Abbot’s man-if, that is, we ever do find someone to accuse.”
Holcroft nodded slowly. “In that case, I shall return home now. You can always contact me there.”
Simon watched as he stood and made his way out through the door. “Poor devil!”
“He’ll recover. Holcroft will soon pass on his responsibilities to another, and then he’ll have time to resolve things with his wife. All he can do now is go home, and that’s the one place he can never find any sort of peace. What it must be, to be caught in a loveless marriage.”
“It happens often enough,” said Simon, with the insensitivity of a man who loved, and was loved by, his wife.
“Yes,” Baldwin agreed, thinking of Jeanne’s bright smile. Somehow he was sure she could never be as cruel as Holcroft described his wife. He pushed the picture from his mind. “I think we should see to Elias now, don’t you?”
12
E dgar was sitting at a bench, a mug of ale in one hand, a small pastry in the other. He had an air of contentment. The knight kicked his seat. “Eating? I thought I told you to watch Elias?”
“He’s there,” Edgar said, pointing with his pie. “He’s not once been out of my sight.”
Baldwin looked. Elias was standing chatting to a bearded man and a friar. “Come on, let’s get it over with.”