Then, after a while, Grizelda nodded.
‘Yes,’ she said slowly. ‘Everything happened exactly as you have described it. You’re a clever man.’
‘But why did you encourage me to inquire into the matter for you?’ I asked. ‘What did you hope to gain by that?’
She laughed. ‘I wanted to scare Eudo into making a push to leave Dame Tenter’s cottage. He was too settled there and growing too close to Agatha. I needed to remind him that he was in my hands, that I could stir up trouble for him if I wished. Unfortunately, what I did not foresee was that the fool would try to scare you off with his silly antics.’ She spoke with fond contempt. ‘Eudo’s no judge of character. He couldn’t understand, as I did, that trying to frighten you, would only strengthen your determination to get at the truth.’ She got up off her stool and shook out her skirts. ‘So, now that you, and doubtless others – for I cannot believe you came here without confiding your suspicions to others – know of my complicity in the crime, what is there left for me, if I do not wish to burn at the stake?’
Before I realized what she intended to do, she reached out and seized the knife with which she had been chopping the herbs. ‘Only death by my own hand. But I don’t mean to die alone.’
She came swiftly round the table, the point of the blade turned towards me and pointing straight at my heart. I backed away, not daring to take my eyes from her in order to search for a weapon. I cursed myself for not bringing my cudgel. Once again, she laughed, a high-pitched, mirthless sound.
‘You won’t escape me, Roger. I’m as strong as you are, and you yourself bolted the outer door.’
‘You are mistaken, Mistress Harbourne,’ Oliver Cozin said, stepping into the kitchen, a sergeant and two of his men from the castle garrison at his back. The knife fell with a clatter from Grizelda’s suddenly nerveless fingers. ‘The chapman here only pretended to lock the door. Master Colet is already in custody and has confessed to everything. You stand condemned out of your own mouth. These men and I are witnesses to all that has passed between you and the chapman, for we followed him in and crossed the courtyard while he engaged you in conversation and distracted your attention. We have been standing outside the kitchen door this past half-hour.’ He turned to the sergeant. ‘Arrest this woman, if so depraved and evil a creature deserves to be called so, and take her away.’
Grizelda, white-faced and with staring eyes, was hustled unceremoniously past me as Oliver Cozin held out his hand. ‘Master Chapman, the cause of justice owes you a debt which it can never repay. If I can ever do anything for you, you have only to call on me. My name,’ he added with simple dignity, ‘means something, I flatter myself, both in Devon and beyond. You will not find it unknown, even in London.’
I thanked him, and in answer to his inquiry as to my immediate plans, replied that I was returning to the capital.
My conscience told me that I should go to Bristol and see my baby daughter, but it was overpowered by the desire I had to lose myself for a while in London pleasures. I felt strangely sullied by the affection – the more than affection I had felt for so evil a creature as Grizelda Harbourne, and it frightened me that my judgement could be so led awry. I did not want to be alone too long with my thoughts. I needed distraction, and the sooner the better.
‘Your brother has kindly offered me the shelter of his roof for the night,’ I told Oliver Cozin, ‘but I shall be gone soon after daybreak. For reasons of my own, I shall be glad to leave Totnes.’
And I followed him across the inner courtyard, along the passage, out of the door, and shook the dust of that accursed house from my feet for the very last time.
Next in
Roger the Chapman Mysteries:
THE EVE OF SAINT HYACINTH
A nefarious plot will go right to the heart of the most powerful seat in the land…
Roger the Chapman returns to London in the summer of 1475 for some badly needed rest and entertainment. But the hand of Fate interrupts his plans once again…
King Edward IV is readying his troops to invade France with a great show of strength, and though rumors abound that the king is reluctant, London is teeming with the energy of the march.
But as the campaign approaches, a spy infiltrates the household of the Duke of Gloucester, the king’s brother, leaving one dead in their wake. All information indicates that the spy is the tool of a conspiracy to assassinate the duke before the king’s invasion.
Motive and method, no one knows – only that the duke’s death is promised by the eve of Saint Hyacinth. Roger, who proved his loyalty to Gloucester in a case a few years ago, is the only one the duke trusts to uncover the traitor and the powers behind him.
About the Author
Kate Sedley is the pen-name of Brenda Margaret Lilian Clarke (née Honeyman), an English historical novelist. She was born in Bristol in 1926 and educated at The Red Maids’ School, Westbury-on-Trym. She is married and has a son and a daughter, and three grandchildren. Her medieval historical whodunnits feature Roger the Chapman, who has given up a monk’s cell for the freedom of peddling his wares on the road.