‘That is true,’ agreed Bale. ‘His knife would have been through your throat in an instant.’
‘That is enough, Bale,’ said Geoffrey, wondering what he had done to be saddled with such a pair. ‘Rinse your face in the sea, Ulfrith. You look as though you have been crying, and that will not impress Roger.’
‘I will fetch you some water,’ said Bale when Ulfrith was slow to obey. He glanced at Geoffrey. ‘I will get some for you too, sir. For the blood.’
‘You are a fool,’ said Geoffrey when Bale had gone. ‘All this for a woman who has not even noticed you. And a lying one at that, who may have murdered her husband.’
Ulfrith shot him a bleak look, but his fury was spent. When Bale returned, he rinsed the cut on Ulfrith’s head, then did the same for Geoffrey, humming all the while. He was never so content as when he was up to his elbows in gore.
‘There,’ he said, standing back to inspect his handiwork. ‘That is better. You are lucky he did not knock out one of your teeth, sir.’
‘No, he is lucky he did not knock out one of my teeth. And now we had better catch up with Roger; he will be wondering what we have been doing.’
‘He will not be pleased when he hears what happened,’ said Bale in a wicked understatement. ‘So could we say Sir Vitalis’s corpse jumped out of its grave and set about us — and you were obliged to strangle it? That would explain why Vitalis was throttled, why you two are battered — and it would exonerate Philippa and Edith. Everyone will be happy.’
Geoffrey regarded him uncertainly. ‘Everyone except me. I would earn a reputation as a corpse throttler.’
‘Do you intend to look into it, sir?’ asked Bale. ‘The murder, I mean? You have investigated similar crimes, and there is nothing to stop you from exploring this one.’
‘Other than the fact that I have no authority to start poking about in such affairs. But this is the second murder to occur among Patrick’s passengers, if Philippa is to be believed. They are far too dangerous company for me, and all I want is to be away from them all.’ And from Bale and Ulfrith, too, Geoffrey thought acidly.
Four
Roger, Juhel and Magnus had not gone far. They had reached the place where Patrick had foundered the previous day and were watching the sailors gather the remaining flotsam and set it alight. Roger had found a low bush on a rise above the beach and was spying on them. Magnus sat with him, fretting about the passing time, while Juhel lay on his back next to them, fast asleep.
‘Get down!’ hissed Magnus when Geoffrey approached. ‘They will see you.’
‘They must have been here all night,’ said Roger, not taking his eyes off the beach. ‘Burning everything, lest taxors come to investigate.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Geoffrey, resisting Magnus’s attempts to pull him down. ‘But we have no need to hide from them.’
‘I disagree,’ said Roger, reaching out a powerful hand to haul on Geoffrey’s surcoat. Puzzled, Geoffrey crouched next to him. ‘They look dangerous to me — and desperate. They have already killed some of the scavengers, and, much as I like a fight, I do not think we should risk an encounter with thirty smugglers and murderers.’
Geoffrey looked to where he pointed and saw several bodies — villagers, judging by their clothes. Then he glanced at the marshy vegetation behind the beach and saw that although most of the locals had gone, two shadows still loitered. The distinctive green hat identified one; the other was the heavyset man. Eventually, Roger climbed to his feet, taking care to stay out of sight.
‘God’s blood!’ he swore when he noticed Geoffrey’s face. ‘What happened to you?’
‘We found Vitalis,’ said Geoffrey. ‘But he was strangled, not drowned.’
He showed Roger the ribbon. Meanwhile, Juhel’s rest had been disturbed by their voices, and he was waking up. Geoffrey watched his reaction to the news intently, but Juhel revealed nothing other than the astonished dismay that any innocent man would have expressed.
‘It looks like something a woman might own,’ said Roger, handing it back. Then his jaw dropped. ‘Do not tell me that Philippa and Edith did it?’
‘They were very distressed by his death,’ said Ulfrith stiffly. ‘You saw how bitterly they wept.’
Geoffrey thought, but did not say, that if Edith and Philippa had dispatched Vitalis, they would hardly celebrate the deed with smiles and laughter. He held up the ribbon for Magnus and Juhel to see, watching for any flicker of recognition. He was not surprised when there was nothing.
‘It is the kind of cord used for binding documents,’ remarked Magnus. ‘Paisnel owned some, because he dabbled in sinister clerkly activities.’
‘He could write, yes,’ acknowledged Geoffrey. ‘But so can I.’
‘Quite,’ agreed Magnus acidly. ‘And that is why I trust Sir Roger over you. Literate types cannot help but dissemble and lie.’
‘You speak like a peasant,’ said Juhel in distaste, the twinkle fading from his eyes. ‘There was no dishonesty in Paisnel, and there is none in Sir Geoffrey. You should watch your tongue, man, or you will find yourself abandoned — you do not win protectors with insults.’
Magnus glowered. ‘I was speaking my mind, and if honesty offends you, then you have no place in my kingdom. I was pointing out that this kind of ribbon is favoured by men who possess documents: if Vitalis was strangled with some, then it means his killer can write.’
‘No, it means he owned some ribbon,’ corrected Geoffrey. ‘Or that there was some to hand when he — or she — decided that Vitalis should die.’
‘This debate will get us nowhere,’ said Roger impatiently. ‘That sort of cord is common — Geoff owns some, I saw a bit in Juhel’s bag, and Magnus used a piece on the ship to tie his hair.’
Juhel regarded him uneasily. ‘You looked in my bag? Why?’
Roger shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Because you left it unguarded. It was an open invitation to any man with any enquiring mind, such as my own.’
‘Vitalis’s death is very sad,’ said Magnus, cutting across Juhel’s spluttering indignation. ‘But we have been here far too long. Your battered faces show you have already endured one encounter with those damned pirates, and even ruffians like you must want to avoid another.’
‘Is it true?’ asked Roger. ‘You met a stray sailor? They have been wandering everywhere, hunting for wreckage, so it does not surprise me. I take it the scoundrel will be no further trouble?’
‘No,’ said Geoffrey evenly. ‘The scoundrel most certainly will not.’
‘Good,’ said Roger, slinging his blanket of possessions over his shoulder. ‘Then I suggest we leave before we are obliged to dispatch any more. So who killed Vitalis? Tell me as we walk.’
Geoffrey followed him to the path that ran behind the beach, where everyone ducked and weaved in an effort to stay out of sight. He glanced at Juhel, who was walking behind him.
‘I have no idea who would want Vitalis dead,’ he said. ‘Do you?’
‘Me?’ Juhel seemed startled by the question. ‘Why ask me?’
Geoffrey shrugged. ‘You spent more time with him than the rest of us. Why should I not ask your opinion?’
‘I did spend time with him, but I found him very bitter, and he said horrible things about your family. If I had to choose a suspect, I am afraid you would be top of my list.’
‘I have been with Roger, Ulfrith and Bale ever since we abandoned ship — when we all saw Vitalis alive. Besides, I would not be telling people he was murdered if I were the culprit, would I?’
‘True,’ acknowledged Juhel. ‘But I thought we were speaking hypothetically. And you did argue with him.’
‘It was hardly an argument,’ said Geoffrey wryly. ‘It was more a case of him railing at me.’