‘Not his, no! The lord’s! Alex just takes our money to use it,’ she said bitterly.
‘Would someone kill Serlo because of Alexander’s Farm of the Ovens?’ Simon pressed. ‘Or would they kill him because of his own farm — the mill?’
‘Why would someone kill him for that?’ she demanded with a twist of her lip.
‘If he was taking more multure than he should, people might have rebelled,’ Simon guessed. ‘Someone could have grown hot-headed.’
‘I don’t know anything about Serlo’s death,’ she said, and would have turned away, had not Baldwin gripped her forearm, not harshly, but tightly enough to keep her there.
‘Maid, we have to ask questions about his death. You know that, and you know why: to stop unrest in the vill. Please help us.’
She stood with her chin high, but then gave a slight nod and accepted the space on the bench which Simon indicated for her.
‘Serlo was here last night,’ Baldwin continued when she was seated. ‘Did he leave here alone?’
‘No, he went with Angot,’ she said. ‘I told Angot to get him home safely, because he wouldn’t make it there on his own.’
‘Angot is here?’ Baldwin enquired, looking at the two at the bar.
‘Yes. He’s there.’ She pointed.
Baldwin beckoned the man, and soon Angot was behind Susan, standing nervously with a pot in his hand. ‘You helped Serlo home?’
‘Yes, I took him home.’
‘All the way to his door?’
‘Nearly,’ Angot admitted. He was terrified as he spoke, knowing that he was the last man to see Serlo. He briefly explained why he had left Serlo on the way to the mill. ‘He didn’t want my help any more. He was bitter. Turned very nasty.’
‘How was Serlo when he left here?’ Baldwin asked Susan.
‘Very drunk, but what else would you expect? His son was dead.’
‘Whom do you know who might wish to kill Serlo?’ Simon asked Angot outright, waiting to hear Richer’s name.
The man shrugged. ‘He was a miller; always took his tenth of the grain, and sometimes, when the customer wasn’t watching, he took more. That didn’t exactly make him popular.’
Simon nodded. ‘What of the tolls? He was taking gifts from travellers, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes. He was always short of cash lately.’ Angot pulled a face. ‘Since Dan’s death, he’d been hit hard with costs. He had the deodand to pay, and the funeral, as well as replacing broken bits of his machine. It’s all expensive.’
Baldwin nodded. ‘I see. In your opinion, is there anyone in particular who might have wished to see him dead?’
Angot laughed shortly. ‘He managed to insult loads of people over the years.’
Susan chipped in: ‘He took his brother’s position seriously. If a man insulted Serlo, he insulted Constable Alexander. Serlo was so used to being related to the most powerful man here, he thought he could get away with anything. And Alex saw to it that he did, generally.’
‘It’s not just that,’ Angot said, gaining confidence now. ‘He put on a bold front, but he wasn’t brave himself. He was a younger brother, you see. Alexander was his hero, he looked up to him all the time, and he wanted to prove himself to Alex. The trouble was, anything Alex touched turned to gold, while everything Serlo tried failed. All he could do was mill. Everything else was a disaster.’
‘Alexander alleges that Richer atte Brooke could have been responsible. What do you know of that?’ Baldwin asked.
‘Richer?’ Susan said, and she began to smile disbelievingly, but then she recalled Serlo’s words the previous day and the smile died on her lips.
‘What?’ Baldwin pressed. ‘You have remembered something. What is it?’
‘It was something Serlo said yesterday. Richer came in, but when he saw Serlo, he turned to leave; said he’d go, to save Serlo further grief. But Serlo said something … I can’t recall exactly, but it was something about he’d only lost one boy, while Richer had lost all his family. It made Richer go quite pale as he walked out. Did you hear that, Angot?’
He shook his head. ‘I was drunk.’
‘What did you think Serlo meant?’ Baldwin enquired.
‘He was implying that he might have had something to do with Richer’s family’s death. I don’t believe it, but there was something in Serlo’s voice as he saw Richer going: cruelty, you know? And there have been rumours for a while now.’
‘Rumours of what?’
‘That Serlo was up near Richer’s house on the night of the fire. It was long ago, and I was only a child. But I can remember Iwan telling someone about seeing Serlo up there on that night.’
‘So he could have been guilty of arson; he could have killed all Richer’s family?’ Simon breathed.
‘No!’ Angot protested. ‘He could bully to get his own way, but kill a whole family? Never. Anyway, I think it was him went to the field to call the rest to help with the fire. Why’d he do that if he was the arsonist?’
‘We cannot ask him now,’ Baldwin sighed. ‘Susan, if you’re right, do you think Richer could have heard him and guessed what he … wait!’ The sight of Richer, sitting with his head in his hands came back to him, and he knew that the question was unnecessary. ‘This was mid-afternoon? A little before we came in?’
‘Yes. Quite early in the afternoon.’
Baldwin stood. ‘I think we should go and seek Richer.’
Simon looked down at the plate of meats. ‘Yes. In a moment.’
‘No, now, while the scent is still fresh,’ Baldwin said, and started towards the door.
‘Fine. You go, I’ll have some food first.’
‘Can’t you get something later?’ Baldwin asked, a trace of peevishness in his tone.
‘No,’ Simon said bluntly, taking up a slice of meat and studying it with satisfaction. ‘And neither can the good Coroner, so sit down again and wait a short while. Susan, you cook a good piece of beef!’
Richer was sitting outside the castle’s hall on an old saw-horse which the grooms used to polish the saddles.
He had tried to eat, but his belly was too weakly today. His humours were all unbalanced since hearing of the death of Athelina. It still seemed incomprehensible to him that she had been taken away just at the time when he was hoping to marry her at last. Most of the time he had little fragments of thoughts, things he would like to talk to her about, half-born ideas that he squashed. He was used to death, God knew, but he couldn’t really believe that she was gone. She was so vital, so vivid …
‘Richer.’
He opened his eyes, to find himself confronted by the Coroner, the Keeper and the Bailiff. The elderly clerk was standing behind them.
‘Godspeed, friends,’ he said without pleasure.
‘We have some questions for you. Have you heard the news?’ Baldwin said.
‘Yes. It’s … um …’ Almost too late he realised that he should say nothing that could show his personal allegiance. ‘Astonishing.’
‘What do you know of it?’ Coroner Jules said quickly, like a man who was determined to get a word in before others took over the conversation.
Richer was irritated by his manner. He had better things to consider, today of all days. ‘The same as you, I suppose. Why?’
‘We’ve heard you may have been responsible.’
Richer almost smiled, thinking this was some form of pleasantry at his expense, but it faded when he saw that they were all watching him with unreserved gravity. ‘How could I have been involved? I’ve been in the castle for a few weeks now. It would take an age to ride to London and back.’
Simon blinked, then looked at Baldwin, and suddenly gave a laugh. ‘We are fools! We came here asking about news, and all friend Richer can think of is the escape of Lord Mortimer from the Tower! No, Richer,’ he continued, his smile disappearing like the first waft of smoke from an open fire on the moors. ‘We wanted to hear about Serlo. What did he have to do with you?’
‘Serlo?’
‘He was murdered last night. Stabbed, and then his head thrust into his machine and crushed,’ Baldwin said bluntly. ‘We have heard that he suggested last afternoon that he was in part at least responsible for the death of your family.’