‘Is he?’ Geoffrey supposed it might be true.
‘Yes, but Belleme should never have entrusted him with such a mission: Paisnel had no idea how to conduct a discreet survey and asked the most brazen of questions. We argued, because I was afraid his incompetence would see us both hanged.’
If that were true, then several things made sense: the whispered argument Geoffrey had witnessed on the ship; the other one observed by Philippa; Juhel’s easy familiarity with his friend’s possessions. But had their disagreement led Juhel to kill Paisnel because he was a liability?
‘Then what about this?’ he asked, producing the letter Juhel had written for Edith. ‘Is it more information about manorial rolls?’
Juhel took it from him, and his expression turned to alarm. ‘Where did you get this? It was supposed to have been sent to Edith’s family.’
‘She was sceptical about its contents and asked the monks to translate it for her. They told her it was nonsense. Now she is dead.’
Juhel was aghast at the implicit accusation. ‘Her death was nothing to do with-’
‘She was strangled with red ribbon. Just like Vitalis – he did not drown, as his wives claimed. And red ribbon fastens your documents.’
‘I have seen red ribbon on the parchments in your bags, too,’ Juhel shot back.
‘My cord is thicker and coarser. It was a finer braid that killed Vitalis and Edith.’
Juhel was appalled by the direction the discussion had taken. ‘You cannot accuse me of murder just because of ribbon! If you want to catch Edith’s killer, look to the men she encouraged with her fluttering eyelashes and then abandoned when someone better came along. Ask Roger about her.’
Geoffrey stared at him. ‘What are you saying?’
‘You know perfectly welclass="underline" Edith enjoyed Roger’s company – until Lucian reappeared. If you want suspects for her murder, ask Roger what he was doing the night she died. He was certainly out and about, because I saw him.’
Of course, Roger had not harmed Edith, because he had been with Philippa. However, the big knight did solve problems with violence, and not everyone would believe his innocence. Moreover, Geoffrey did not trust Philippa to confirm his alibi. She was a woman out for her own ends and might well lie if she thought there was a chance she might benefit from it.
Juhel smirked victoriously when Geoffrey had no reply, ‘But I do not believe Roger is the culprit. I suspect Lucian, whom I also saw abroad that night. When I asked him the following day what he had been doing, he claimed he had been at a vigil all night. Do you believe such a tale from a man who did not utter a single prayer while we were on Patrick?’
Geoffrey admitted it sounded unlikely. ‘Read that to me,’ he said, indicating Edith’s letter. ‘What does it say?’
‘It relates a woeful tale to her father, all about high seas and unruly sailors. I will translate it if you like, but you will find it dull listening.’
‘But as it is written in runes, her father will not be able to decipher it.’
‘No,’ said Juhel with malicious satisfaction. ‘And it will serve her right. She said I would be paid to write it, but once it was done – and it took several hours, because I am not quick with my pen – Vitalis refused to pay. They cheated me, and I am glad I cheated them back.’
Geoffrey left the hut, not sure what to think. He still believed Danish was written in the same alphabet as other Western languages, but he had never seen it and could not be sure. Perhaps Juhel was telling the truth. But had Juhel killed Vitalis? Geoffrey realized that even if he had, it was not his concern. It was probably incautious queries that had seen him poisoned, and it was time to leave the matter to the appropriate authorities.
However, he had one last question. He retraced his steps, and his second unanticipated invasion showed him a heavy medallion under the blanket with the documents. Philippa had mentioned a necklace in Paisnel’s pack, and there was another memory of it, too. Geoffrey frowned, trying to pin down the elusive sense that he had seen it before. Then it came to him in a flash – Donan had found one in the hospital. Like Juhel’s, it was engraved with Celtic knots on one side and a lily on the other. Was it the same one? But if Donan had taken it, what was it doing with Juhel?
‘How did you come by that?’ he asked, forgetting his decision not to meddle.
Juhel shrugged. ‘It was Paisnel’s. I removed it from his pack when I took the documents. It is valuable, so I shall return it to his father.’
‘Have you ever been inside the hospital?’
‘Not after Roger accused me of poisoning you. That is why I came here, if you recall. I kept well away from you – but obviously not far enough, because you are still hurling accusations.’
‘I saw that pendant,’ mused Geoffrey, ‘in Donan’s hands.’
‘La Batailge may admit a lot of Saxon peasants to do homage at the battle shrine, but they will draw the line at pirates. I heard you claimed Fingar came when you were ill, but he would have been noticed – and ejected – I assure you.’
‘Has that locket been with you the whole time?’
‘No, I have not been as careful with it as I should have been. It was stolen, but then returned. I can only surmise that the culprit had second thoughts about stealing on hallowed ground.’
Roger would have had no such scruples – if he had taken the thing, he would still have it – although Bale and Ulfrith might have put it back when conscience began to prick.
‘I would be grateful if you would not mention it to anyone,’ Juhel continued. ‘I do not want other thieves setting greedy eyes on it.’
Geoffrey nodded agreement, although he was not sure whether he believed Juhel’s fear of thieves. He recalled that Roger had mentioned a pendant in Magnus’s possession, but Magnus had denied owning any such thing. In all, anything to do with medallions was murky, as far as he was concerned, and he knew he would be wise to put the matter from his mind.
‘Why did you come back?’ asked Juhel, breaking into his thoughts. ‘What do you want now?’
‘I wondered whether you had seen my dog. He is missing.’
To Geoffrey’s profound embarrassment, Juhel started to cry. ‘So is Delilah. I have not seen her for several days and I think she is still grieving for Paisnel. Animals feel a death very keenly, you know. When did you last see… what is his name?’
‘He does not have one,’ said Geoffrey, who had once christened the beast Angel, then abandoned the appellation when he became acquainted with its true character.
Juhel was surprised. ‘Then how do you call him?’
‘By shouting “dog”.’
Juhel regarded him askance. ‘Does that not bring other mongrels?’
Geoffrey was beginning to feel foolish. He started to leave. ‘I am sorry to have bothered you.’
Juhel sniffed, and more tears rolled. ‘Call your dog, Sir Geoffrey. It is a terrible thing when a man loses a beloved companion. Call him, and see if it will bring him back.’
‘Dog!’ yelled Geoffrey, sorry for the man’s distress and willing to shout if it made him feel better. He knew the animal would have made itself known to him if it was close – to be fed – so he was startled to hear an answering bark.
‘Did you hear that?’ cried Juhel, happy for him.
‘He is in that building with the thick door,’ said Geoffrey, pointing to a hut with a stone roof and no windows. ‘He must have been locked in by accident.’
‘That is the charnel house,’ said Juhel. ‘Edith and the man who tried to stab you are inside.’
Geoffrey regarded him uneasily. ‘Lord! Are they?’
He did not like to think what he might find, given that the dog had been missing for some time and was not a beast to ignore the demands of its stomach. Meat was meat, after all. He broke into a run, although he knew haste would make no difference now. He reached the door and hesitated, not sure he wanted to see what he might find. Then he recalled that the monks were going to bury the dead man that morning and would discover it anyway. It would be better if they learned it from him. Aware of Juhel behind him, he pushed open the door – a heavy one with a latch.