‘I shouldn’t worry,’ I said bracingly. ‘As you say, he’s probably lying drunk somewhere in the street.’
‘If that were so, he’d have been taken up by the Watch,’ Jack said bluntly. ‘And Father’s approached the sergeant of the Watch. They’ve arrested nobody tonight.’
‘He’s more likely to be lying in the castle orchard,’ Margaret said in her down-to-earth fashion.
It seemed such an obvious answer that I could have embraced her; something she would have disliked intensely. But I know we all breathed a sigh of relief. Even Jenny dried her eyes on her sleeve and managed a watery smile.
‘Of course, that’ll be it,’ she said with a sniff. ‘What fools we are, Jack, not to have thought of it for ourselves. As soon as the castle gates are unlocked tomorrow morning — I mean, this morning — he’ll come ambling home full of remorse for the fright he’s given us.’
‘And so he damn well should be,’ Jack retorted with what, for him, was strong language. (Jack Hodge was one of the least aggressive men I think I ever met.)
Jenny apologized profusely for having disturbed our rest on what, thanks to Margaret, she now realized had been a fool’s errand.
‘Burl always tells me I act first and think afterwards,’ she muttered.
‘He didn’t think of the orchard, either,’ I pointed out as she and Jack took their leave.
Adela, regardless of her night-shift, ran after them. ‘Send us word of Dick’s safe return, won’t you?’ she urged, clasping Jenny’s arm.
‘Of course.’ The latter smiled mistily. ‘Just as soon as he arrives home.’
But Dick Hodge never returned home. His body was found in the castle orchard later that morning. Someone had slit his throat.
EIGHTEEN
We were getting ready to go to Mass when we first heard the news. Margaret was still with us, having decided, once she had eaten her breakfast, to stay and accompany us to St Giles’s. A loud knocking on the street door, just as we were about to set out, took us all by surprise.
‘Now, who can that be?’ Adela demanded of no one in particular. She had just picked up Luke and was endeavouring to bring some order to his tussle of copper-coloured curls. ‘Margaret, my dear, you’re nearest. Would you please see who it is? Tell them …’
She got no further as Richard Manifold, his face ashen and lined with fatigue, pushed past Margaret to stammer out the terrible news. For several seconds there was a silence of total disbelief. It was as if Richard were speaking, but in a foreign tongue which none of us could understand.
He repeated the words again. ‘Dick Hodge’s body has been found in the castle orchard amongst the long grasses at the far end. His throat has been cut.’
‘But … But who would do such a thing?’ Margaret asked. ‘Everyone liked him. I wouldn’t have said he had an enemy in the world.’
Adela thrust Luke into my arms. ‘I must go to Jenny,’ she said in a shaking voice. ‘That poor woman! That poor, poor woman!’ And she began sobbing wildly.
Margaret put her arms about her cousin, tears coursing down her wrinkled cheeks, and rocked her to and fro.
‘Hush, my dear, hush,’ was all she could think of to say. Elizabeth and Adam, not quite sure what was happening, began to cry in sympathy, while Luke, normally so cheerful, suddenly became aware of the overcharged atmosphere and started to yell. I sat him down on the floor, with instructions to Nicholas not to let him crawl anywhere near the Yule log, and pushed Richard Manifold into the kitchen where I poured us both a beaker of ale from the breakfast jug still standing on the table. My hand was unsteady and I spilled some.
I asked, ‘There’s no mistake, I suppose?’ A stupid question to which he did not even bother to reply. ‘But Dick Hodge!’ I went on, dazed. ‘Why? He never hurt anyone. Everyone liked him. I’ve never heard a soul say so much as an unkind word against him. It doesn’t make sense.’
Richard gulped his ale as though in desperate need of it and shook his head. ‘You’re right. No one can understand it. If asked, I should say he was one of the best-liked people in this city.’
‘Burl and Jenny know?’
He nodded. ‘The sheriff went himself to tell them. Took his lady with him. They’re beside themselves with grief, as you can imagine.’
‘And Jack?’
‘Not saying much by all accounts, but grim-faced and ripe for vengeance. Ready to act on the slightest suspicion and ask for proof afterwards. We’ll have to keep our eyes on him to prevent him doing something foolish.’
It had been in my mind to flout James Marvell’s wishes and tell the sergeant of our thoughts concerning Miles Deakin, but at these words, I held my peace.
‘Have you no idea at all who might have done it?’
‘No.’ Richard drained his beaker and set it down on the table with a snap. ‘How do you begin looking for the killer of someone everyone liked? The only suggestion so far is Sergeant Merryweather’s, and that is that Dick has been mistaken for somebody else.’
My beaker was halfway to my lips, and there it remained, poised in mid-air. ‘Oh, sweet Jesu and all the saints in heaven,’ I breathed.
Richard, turning to speak to Adela, who had just appeared in the doorway, swung back towards me. ‘What?’ he demanded eagerly. ‘What do you know?’
‘Dick Hodge was wearing my old grey cloak,’ I said, and proceeded to tell him the story.
Adela stood as though turned to stone, one hand, childlike, covering her mouth. Richard Manifold, too, stood looking at me for several long moments before taking a deep, shuddering breath.
‘It seems as though Tom Merryweather might be right,’ he said slowly. His gaze narrowed. ‘What have you been up to, Roger? What have you discovered that might put you in that sort of danger? You’ve been in the thick of this affair since the very beginning but, knowing you, I doubt you’ve shared all your knowledge with either me or anyone else in authority. So what is it? And who would want to kill you?’
‘How would I know?’ I asked feebly. I, too, drained my beaker. My one thought now was to get to Redcliffe and the Marvell house as soon as possible, but without arousing suspicion. I had to consult with James on what was best to do.
I became aware of Adela shaking my arm. ‘Roger,’ she implored, ‘if you know anything that might account for this terrible deed, you must tell Richard at once.’
‘I know nothing of any consequence,’ I lied. And, to deflect further questioning, asked, as if it were of some importance, ‘When was the body found?’
‘Early this morning,’ Richard answered impatiently. ‘One of the castle reeves was making his usual rounds to make sure that no irreparable damage had been caused by last night’s revellers or the mummers-’
‘They’ve gone, then?’
‘At first light, apparently. As I was saying, one of the reeves found the body in the long grass by the outer wall.’ He pulled himself up short, suddenly conscious that he was wasting valuable time. He added severely, ‘Roger! I charge you straitly that if you have any information you think the law should know you must tell me on pain of imprisonment.’
‘Never mind the law,’ Adela said, clutching my arm even tighter. ‘Roger, for Jenny’s and Burl’s sake, you must help them find Dick’s murderer.’
There was no church for any of us that morning, although it behoved us to go and pray for Dick Hodge’s soul. Margaret offered to stay and take care of the children while Adela went to visit the grieving family. I also announced my intention of going out, a decision that was greeted with silent suspicion on my former mother-in-law’s part, but before I could leave the house another knock at the door heralded the arrival of Baker Cleghorn.