‘You served the food today?’ Baldwin began. The steward nodded. ‘Good. Tell me exactly what happened.’
‘Nothing was wrong, sir, until the middle of the second course. The Treasurer had a dish of mussels, as did Vicar Arthur and the Chorister. But Master Adam, he never liked mussels, so he had a pottage instead.’
‘And halfway through it he vomited,’ Gervase added.
‘What was the first course?’
The steward blinked. ‘Pies and fish dishes.’
‘Was there anything that only Adam ate from that course?’
‘No, sir. All partook of the dishes together. It was only the pottage that he alone tried.’
Gervase interrupted to tell Baldwin how the cook had proven the pottage to be safe.
‘I see,’ said Baldwin. ‘And how was Adam today?’
The steward gave an offhand shrug. ‘The same as usual. Perhaps…’
‘Yes?’
‘Well, I thought he was teasing Luke. He often does. And then he began hiccuping and burping, and went a bit green. But at this time of year, it’s normal for a youth to overindulge himself. If he can’t at Christmas, when would he be able to?’
‘A good point. Now, Gervase,’ Baldwin said, turning to the Succentor. ‘You say you saw the cook eat a whole ladle of this pottage?’
‘Two ladles. He insisted that his food was wholesome, and from the way he swallowed it with no ill-effects, I have to believe him.’
‘Yes, except this fellow Adam vomited almost immediately.’
‘As I heard Stephen say, he had almost finished his bowl of food,’ Gervase said hesitantly.
His doubting tone made Baldwin give him an expectant look. ‘Yes?’
‘That is remarkably fast for a poison, not that my experience is particularly extensive, but I have a little knowledge about the subject.’ Gervase explained about his time in Oxford.
‘And that means?’
‘I think it means he ate a very large dose of poison – so large that little was absorbed. It sometimes happens that too much poison will make a man sick, while less would kill.’
Simon had been silent, but now he interrupted their thoughts. ‘The victim accused the boy Luke, you say. Did he say that he actually saw the boy putting poison in his food?’
‘No.’
‘The kitchen is out at the back of the house, but could someone have added some poison to his food between kitchen and hall? Someone other than this Chorister? A Chorister is hardly my idea of an ideal suspect for a poisoning.’
‘It is good of you to try to find another possibility, but I fear the worst. After all, is a cleric of another sort any more likely as a killer?’
Simon nodded to the steward. ‘Was anyone out in the garden when you were bringing the food in from the kitchen?’
‘One of the Secondaries, sir, yes.’
‘Who?’
‘It was the youth who lived near Peter. The one called Jolinde.’
At the door to their inn, Jeanne paused a moment and pointed up the road. ‘Isn’t that Mistress le Berwe?’
Edgar squinted. ‘I believe so, Lady, with a servant. I think she has seen us.’
‘Ah, good,’ said Jeanne, smothering the curse that rose to her lips. She forced a pleasant and welcoming smile to her face. ‘Hawisia, how pleasant to see you. How are you?’
‘Fine, my Lady, very well. I only… Have you seen my husband?’
‘Vincent? No, why? Has he disappeared?’
‘He left the house to go and see to a little business and returned for his breakfast, but a short while ago he said he must leave once more. I did wonder whether he might have come here to share a pot of wine with you and your husband.’
She looked so worried that Jeanne waved her inside with only a pang of regret. ‘I have only just returned myself as you can see, but let us go in and see if they are all inside.’
The hall was filled with men and women talking loudly, their faces red and merry from work and drink, but there was no sign of either Vincent or Baldwin, and when they called the host over and asked him, he said: ‘Master Baldwin left first thing this morning with Bailiff Puttock and I’ve seen nothing of either of them since.’
Jeanne smiled gratefully, but when she turned she could see that Hawisia was close to tears. Jeanne waved to Edgar, who correctly interpreted this as a demand for wine and disappeared. Seeing that Jeanne and Hawisia might wish for privacy, he took Hawisia’s servant with him.
‘Come, dear, tell me what’s the matter,’ Jeanne said soothingly.
Hawisia put a hand on Jeanne’s forearm as the two sat on a bench. ‘I am pregnant again.’
‘Then I will pray for a healthy child,’ Jeanne suggested with a smile.
‘My husband already has a child.’
‘Men are not so abstinent as their wives,’ Jeanne said warily. She wasn’t sure where this was leading.
‘But I fear his son Jolinde will be the cause of sore distress to him,’ Hawisia said, and she began to sniff as the tears started to run.
Jeanne had listened to enough of Baldwin’s and Simon’s conversations to know of whom Hawisia spoke. Now she sat silently while Hawisia wept, letting the silence draw the younger woman out.
At last Hawisia blinked to clear her eyes and wiped her face on her sleeve. ‘I am sorry. I must seem the veriest fool to behave like this, but I have been worrying for an age now.’
Jeanne nodded sympathetically, but she could not like Hawisia and she inwardly cringed at the thought that this young woman should have sought her out as a confidante. ‘What do you fear?’ she asked.
‘That my husband’s son should be found to be the murderer. You must know that Nick Karvinel and Vincent have no affection for each other. They are not friends, they are competitors. And Peter was his clerk. If Jolinde thought that Peter had done anything for Karvinel that could have hurt my husband, I fear… I truly fear–’
‘That your stepson could have killed Peter?’
Hawisia sniffed and nodded wretchedly.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Simon and Baldwin strode over the precinct alone. Gervase had left them at the door to the infirmary, saying that he must visit Adam and try to comfort him. When he opened the door, Simon saw the miserable Secondary gripping his belly and spitting a slimy dribble into a pot. Simon had seen the effects of such treatment before and had no desire to witness the inevitable result. It was with immense relief that he left the scene and followed his friend to the rooms where Jolinde had lived with Peter.
As they approached the house, Simon saw the large figure of the Coroner appear at the Fissand Gate. He was accompanied by the City Bailiff, to whom he bade farewell at the gate before coming over to join Simon and Baldwin. ‘The City Bailiff told me,’ he said simply. ‘You think it was Jolinde too?’
‘Possibly he can help us,’ Baldwin said. ‘He was out near the Canon’s house when the food was brought in.’
‘Let’s see what the bastard has to say this time.’
The door was opened almost immediately when Coroner Roger beat upon it, and Jolinde looked from one to the other with surprise. ‘What is it?’
Coroner Roger shoved the door wide. ‘We’re hoping you can help us–’
He stopped and Simon soon saw what had caused his astonishment.
The room was a mess. The plaster had been hacked from the walls in long sweeps following irregular lines; the floor had been dug up in places, and the perpetrator of the destruction was the shamefaced Secondary before them. That much was obvious from his feeble attempt at a grin as the three men took in the state of the place.
Baldwin walked quietly over to a stool and sat as if unaware of the devastation about him. ‘Jolinde, you have been accused of putting poison in Adam’s food. He has collapsed.’