‘And me, Mistress?’ George Applegarth was still huddled in his chair. ‘What do you intend for me? I shall, of course, leave your service, that goes without saying.’
‘Nonsense!’ A little colour was creeping back into the dame’s face and she was beginning to regain something of her old self-confidence. ‘I’ve no mind to lose a good steward. Nor do I wish to have to accustom myself to a stranger’s ways. I won’t say you have done nothing wrong, but I understand the motive for your secrecy all these years. You wanted to protect Jenny’s and the Bellknapp family’s good names. So I suggest we bury the past and breathe no word of the truth to any other person. Master Chapman, I rely on your discretion!’
But this was going too far and too fast for me. Besides, her peremptory tone annoyed me.
‘I’m not sure about that,’ I said. ‘Apart from the fact that Master Applegarth’s silence has blackened the name of an innocent man for the past six years, and will continue to do so, there’s the trivial matter of the fact that he tried to kill me. I assume it was you, Master Steward, who stuck a knife into what you thought was my back but, through a fortunate circumstance, was really my pillow?’
He nodded. ‘I can’t deny it. I was growing desperate to prevent you discovering the truth.’ He raised his head and looked me in the eyes for the first time since entering the solar. ‘A sort of madness possessed me.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t suppose you’ll believe this — there’s no reason why you should — but as I approached the bed, my heart had already failed me, and I was preparing to tiptoe out again when it struck me that the shape of the “body” was all wrong. Too soft, too lumpy. It was then I realized it was a pillow, so I stuck my knife in just to warn you off. Or, rather, in the hope of warning you off. If you considered your own life to be in danger, you might decide to abandon your search for the truth and leave. I should have known better.’
I wasn’t certain whether he was telling the truth or not, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. I nodded. I felt some sympathy with him. It was, after all, his own stupidity that, in the end, had led to his undoing.
As though reading my thoughts, George Applegarth gave a short bark of laughter.
‘For six years,’ he said, ‘that silly, unnecessary lie has been waiting to trip me up. At any moment, Ned Micheldever or Sir Henry or Master Kilsby could have reasoned out the truth if one of them had ever seriously thought about it.’
‘They haven’t the common sense!’ Dame Audrea declared scornfully. Then her face changed and she added, as though a full understanding of the situation had only just suddenly hit her, ‘You killed Anthony.’
The steward nodded. ‘Yes. I killed him with the weapon he’d intended using on Master Bignell.’
‘Master Bignell? But why?’
‘Thomas told me he had seen a horseman near Croxcombe Manor on the night of my Jenny’s murder, and that he thought there might have been something familiar about him. If he ever said that within Anthony’s hearing, I suspect Anthony decided to do away with him before he had time to remember anything further. He arranged for the Bignells to remain here overnight, instead of returning to Wells as they’d intended, and persuaded Master Bignell to meet him after the rest of us had gone to bed, on the pretext of revealing something undesirable about Rose’s marriage to Ned.
‘I should say here, perhaps, that all this is so much guesswork on my part, but guesswork I believe to be as near the truth as we are ever likely to get. He took Master Chapman’s cudgel from the room they shared. Indeed, I saw him come out of the chamber with it, and it made me suspicious, so I determined to keep an eye on him. I knew he had killed twice, and felt certain he would have no compunction in killing for a third time. I also had a fancy that, just as he used John Jericho as the scapegoat for him the first time, so he might be planning to lay the blame for Thomas Bignell’s death on the chapman. I didn’t doubt that he was growing nervous of our friend here, especially after you’ — he glanced at me, faintly mocking — ‘had boasted so openly of your past successes.’
I groaned and had the grace to blush.
‘Fool!’ I muttered to myself.
‘Continue!’ Dame Audrea commanded harshly.
The steward shrugged. ‘There’s little more to tell, Madam. After everyone else had retired for the night, I hung around outside the hall, waiting to see what would happen. I heard Master Anthony and the butcher talking, then Master Anthony came out, prowling around, looking to see that the coast was clear. I feel sure he intended to club Master Bignell over the head and push him into the moat.’
‘Precisely as you did to him,’ I interrupted.
George Applegarth nodded. ‘It was the opportunity I’d been waiting for, for six long years. He was walking along the edge of the moat, looking for a sheltered spot in which to do the deed, and was totally unsuspecting of my presence. Almost before he had time to understand what was happening, I wrested the cudgel from his hand, swung it with all my might and knocked him into the water. Then I held him under until he drowned.’
Twenty
Hercules and I knew we were home as soon as I pushed open the door of the house in Small Street. The noise of Adam having a tantrum somewhere or other assailed our ears almost immediately, while the thunderous descent of the stairs heralded the arrival of my daughter and stepson, who had spotted our approach from an upper window. I did not delude myself, however, that they had missed me and were eagerly awaiting my return to ply me with hugs and kisses. Rather, their hands were at once searching my pockets and the scrip at my belt, at the same time demanding, ‘What have you brought us?’ To add insult to injury — or, in this case, injury to insult — I could hear Margaret Walker’s voice uplifted in admonition to my longsuffering wife.
‘You mustn’t give in to him, Adela. Just let him scream.’
I walked into the kitchen where Adam, tied securely to his little chair, showed every intention of doing just that without any encouragement from my former mother-in-law, and dropped my pack and cudgel on to the table with a thump and a clatter that surprised everyone into silence.
‘Roger!’ Adela exclaimed. ‘You’re home!’ She left her cheese-making and hurried to greet me, slipping her arms around my neck and kissing me soundly. I returned the embrace with interest, having lived a celibate life for the past ten days.
‘So you’re back, are you?’ Margaret said. ‘And that’s quite enough of that sort of behaviour, thank you.’
‘Nuff that!’ Adam screamed in support. ‘Thank you!’
I untied the strips of cloth that bound him, picked him up bodily and tossed him into the air. He gurgled with delight, only threatening to resume his ear-piercing shrieks when I stopped. But I pacified him with a little wooden whistle that I had purchased from a fellow pedlar whom I had met during the leisurely three days it had taken me to walk home from Wells. I had refused all offers of rides in carts and proceeded quietly on foot, feeling that after the past few days, Hercules and I had earned time to ourselves before facing up once again to the strains and stresses of domestic life.
Declining to attend Anthony’s funeral, I had quit Croxcombe Manor on the afternoon of the day we had discovered the truth (or as much of it as I presumed we should ever be able to piece together) about the murder, leaving behind me a situation fraught with tension, but one, I guessed, that would be quickly submerged by everyone’s need to return to a normal, day-to-day existence. If George Applegarth had killed Anthony Bellknapp, then the latter had killed his wife, so it was impossible for either dame or steward to accuse the other without drawing attention to the crimes of their own kith and kin. It was a deadlock that I suspected neither wanted to break, or would ever allude to again. Rumour, gradually turning to legend, would surround the circumstances of Anthony’s death and would add to the folklore of the surrounding countryside for all the generations still to come. John Jericho would continue to be blamed for a murder he didn’t commit, but he was dead and it couldn’t harm him. As far as I was concerned, all I had to do now was to take Dame Audrea’s letter to the Sheriff of Bristol and ensure that my half-brother was released from prison.