‘How could he know that?’ Simon wondered. ‘Was he witness to the rape and murder?’
‘I do not know,’ Peter admitted. ‘I am confused. If Blakemoor killed my Agnes, perhaps he was also the man who did this to me,’ he added, fingering his scar.
Simon gave a low whistle. ‘It’s possible, I suppose. Joce left Tavistock to trade, or so he told everyone. But he could have gone anywhere: all people here know is that he returned with a purse of gold.’
Baldwin said, ‘Absence from here doesn’t necessarily make him guilty.’
‘No.’ Simon was thinking quickly. ‘And why should Joce want Wally dead? Because he was a threat to Joce’s future, knowing too much of his past? What of Hamelin? Could he have seen Joce? But then, Sir Tristram might have recognised Wally and chosen to execute him. Hamelin again could have witnessed the attack.’
‘I still wonder about this weapon, though,’ Baldwin objected. ‘I do not understand why he should have taken a club to kill. Surely either man would have preferred a dagger or sword?’
‘Yes, but surely he’s been trying to throw us off the scent. That was why he made his own morning star from timbers he found lying about in Hal’s mine. He came across them and thought he might as well use them.’
‘Perhaps,’ Baldwin said. ‘Let us go and ask them.’
Simon set his jaw grimly. He could not help but observe that Baldwin was tugging at his sword hilt, easing the blade in the sheath like a man expecting a fight.
‘Who do you want to talk to first, Baldwin?’ he asked.
Baldwin looked at Coroner Roger. ‘My choice would be to see Sir Tristram, because as soon as we have talked to him, we can use his men to help us arrest Joce. If it is true that Joce was this…’
‘ “Red Hand”,’ Peter supplied helpfully.
‘Thank you,’ Baldwin said, ‘ “Red Hand”, then we may need more than a few men to corner him. He sounds thoroughly unscrupulous and determined.’
Sir Tristram was awake when the three arrived at his camp, and he watched them with a sour expression as they rode into the clearing. They secured their mounts to the horse line, a rope stretched between two trees, and picked their way through the still-sleeping bodies to where he stood.
‘Sir Tristram, we have some more questions for you,’ Coroner Roger said gruffly. He never much liked to have to question his peers. He always had a sneaking suspicion that justice was something that should be imposed upon the poorer folk; it wasn’t intended to control the richer and more important men like Sir Tristram.
‘Well, you’ll have to ask them while I eat, then. I haven’t had anything yet today.’
‘Certainly, Sir Tristram. So long as you don’t mind us sitting with you,’ Coroner Roger said politely.
‘Where is your Sergeant?’ Baldwin asked.
‘He was hit on the head yesterday in Tavistock during a scuffle. I sent to tell him to rest overnight in the tavern and I’d collect him today. Why?’
‘What were you doing yesterday?’ Simon asked bluntly.
‘Me? When? I am a busy man.’
‘In the afternoon. I doubt Hamelin was dead before noon.’
‘What? Do you propose to accuse me of some stranger’s death?’
‘Another miner found killed. Where were you?’
‘Damn your impudence, man! I shall report this to the King himself, I assure you!’ Sir Tristram’s face was as red as his crimson tunic, and he felt almost apoplectic. He held the same views as the Coroner in some matters; it was unthinkable that a knight should be forced to answer questions like any serf, especially while eating. He almost stood, but then the expression on Baldwin’s face persuaded him to remain where he was.
Simon leaned against a tree, his left hand resting on his hilt, his right thumb hooked into his belt. ‘Well?’
‘I was with my men, as I should have been. What business is it of yours?’
‘And where were you on the morning after the coining?’
‘What, last Friday?’ Sir Tristram’s temper, never cool, was warming rapidly. He was tempted to draw his sword and see how these impudent fools answered then. ‘I was on my way to the Abbey with my Sergeant. What of it?’
‘You knew Walwynus.’
‘So?’
‘And hated him, from the way you spat in his face last night.’
Slowly and menacingly, Sir Tristram brought himself upright, holding Simon’s gaze with a fury that was unfeigned. ‘You mean to accuse me of murder, Bailiff? If you dare, say the words, and I’ll carve the word “innocent” on your forehead. Go on! Say it. Say you accuse me, and see what happens.’
‘If you try to attack the Bailiff, you will have to fight two knights first,’ the Coroner stated flatly.
‘I would do so gladly,’ Sir Tristram replied. ‘Do you offer trial by combat?’
‘Be silent!’ Baldwin roared. ‘Christ Jesus! Do you want us to accuse you? We are here to establish your innocence, but if you wish to prove guilt, continue! There are enough questions which suggest you might be a murderer, but there are others which suggest you could be innocent.’
‘Which have you decided upon, Sir Knight?’ Sir Tristram sneered. He watched the three men through narrowed eyes, expecting a bitter rejoinder, and was somewhat surprised when Simon set his head to one side and surveyed him pensively.
‘I have almost convinced myself you must be innocent, but I do not know why. I find it hard to believe that you could have found your way to the miners’ camp and selected a balk of timber and a handful of nails and constructed a morning star. Such premeditation seems unlike your character.’
‘Should I be grateful for that?’
Simon ignored him. ‘If you were angry with a man, I think you are bloodthirsty enough to take a sword or axe or mace and use it. Thinking about protecting your good name wouldn’t occur to you. No, I think you would avenge an insult or remembered slight with a swift response. If you hated Walwynus enough to want to kill him, you would take a sword to him and damn the consequences. You are a fighter. You would scorn subterfuge. Also, you would not have known Wally was here, let alone where he lived. Perhaps you saw Wally and Peter, and followed them up to the moors, but then you’d have got to Hal’s mine after Hal, and he’d have seen you steal his timber. If you came up before Wally, how would you know where to find him later? And how could you know where to go for wood and nails? No, I don’t think you could have killed Wally.’
‘A thousand thanks for that, dear Bailiff.’
‘Of course, it all depends on what you say about where you were last night and on the day that Wally died.’
‘Look – I hated Walwynus. I’ll admit to that gladly. He was a Scotch reiver, a murderer. That fool Peter rescued him and saved him when I and my men nearly had him. He would have died, him and that evil shit Martyn Scot, Armstrong as he was called. If they had, Peter would never have received that wound, so I suppose there is some justice.’
‘You tried to kill Wally; Peter saved him, and then Peter’s woman was raped.’
‘So?’
‘Wally denied doing it.’
‘Perhaps it was Armstrong, then.’
Simon closed his eyes a moment, then opened them again to stare at Sir Tristram. ‘This woman had saved his life with her diligent nursing. And you suppose he would have taken two friends of his to see her so that they could rape her. Does that sound credible?’
‘Have you ever fought in a war, Bailiff?’ the knight asked scathingly. ‘If you had, you would know that the worst actions are always possible. Sometimes they are inevitable. A man who is desperate for a woman will take her wherever he may, and if he has companions, he will offer them the same woman. It’s a matter of courtesy.’