The Wildcats of Exeter Read online

  ‘The killer will pay dearly, I know that.’

  ‘We will hunt him down, my lord. Have no fear.’

  ‘But I do, my lord sheriff,’ said Ralph, standing up. ‘I will track down the villain myself because I cannot trust you to do it.’

  The sheriff bristled. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Look at his injuries. They are similar to those found on the body of Nicholas Picard. I believe that he and Hervey de Marigny were butchered by the same man.’

  ‘You may well be right,’ conceded the other.

  ‘Then you will understand why I have no faith in your ability to catch the man. A prisoner lies in your dungeon, charged with the murder of Nicholas Picard. Answer me this, my lord sheriff,’ said Ralph with sarcasm. ‘How did he get out in order to kill his second victim?’

  Chapter Eleven

  The murder of Hervey de Marigny threw the whole castle into turmoil. Soldiers were put on the alert and extra guards placed at the gate and on the battlements. Patrols were mounted in the city. The show of strength was impressive, but achieved little beyond the intimidation of the citizenry. Golde was horrified at the news and insisted on struggling down to the chapel with the aid of a stick in order to pray for the soul of the dead man. Gervase Bret was rocked and it gave him no consolation that his own judgement of the imprisoned robber had therefore been vindicated. Someone had slaughtered both Picard and the commissioner in the most savage way. The culprit was still at liberty.

  That thought sent Brother Simon and Canon Hubert into a state of shock. While the former fled to the cathedral for sanctuary, the latter made his way to the castle to find out what he could about the murder and to have the immediate comfort of stout fortifications all round him. Overcoming his profound shock at the discovery of the body, Ralph Delchard was impelled by a quiet rage. When the three commissioners met in the hall, he let Gervase and Hubert do most of the talking, preferring instead to brood and speculate. A veteran soldier with shared memories of combat, Hervey de Marigny had been much closer to him than to any of the others. Ralph did not relish the task of having to send word of the murder to his widow.

  ‘This is dreadful!’ said a quivering Hubert. ‘We are all at risk!’

  ‘I think not,’ said Gervase.

  ‘The lord Hervey was a royal commissioner. Now that he is dead, which one of us will be the next target?’

  ‘I am not sure that he was a target, Canon Hubert.’

  ‘You've seen his corpse in the mortuary.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Gervase, ‘and I viewed that of Nicholas Picard as well. Both are clearly victims of one man, but there is a substantial difference in the way that they died.’

  ‘Each was patently killed by the same means.’

  ‘But not necessarily from the same motives.’

  ‘I do not follow you, Gervase.’

  ‘The lord Nicholas was ambushed,’ said the other. ‘Someone knew exactly where and when to attack him. Premeditation was involved. That was not the case with the lord Hervey. He is barely known in the city and his movements follow no definite pattern. It would be impossible to lay an ambush for him. No,’ he affirmed, ‘I think that he went to his death almost by accident.’

  ‘Accident!’ gulped Hubert.

  ‘Yes. He may unwittingly have stumbled on something or someone and paid the ultimate penalty. This was a crime of opportunity.’

  ‘It still robs the world of a fine man,’ said Ralph solemnly.

  ‘And an able judge,’ added Hubert. ‘I had my doubts about the lord Hervey at first but they were ill founded. One thing is now obvious. We must suspend our proceedings until after the funeral. And until after this dangerous man is caught.’

  ‘That will not be long,’ vowed Ralph. ‘I will find him.’

  ‘How, my lord?’

  ‘Leave it to me, Hubert.’

  ‘Take care. You are dealing with a fiend.’

  ‘That is why he needs to be caught quickly,’ said Gervase. ‘The sheriff seems to think that it is the work of a vengeful Saxon and that suspicion has soured relations with the city. There have been a few brawls already, I hear, and the lord Hervey's own men are threatening to wreak some havoc in Exeter by way of reprisal.’

  ‘They answer to me now,’ said Ralph curtly. ‘There will be no reprisals against the city itself. We are searching for one man.’

  ‘Unless he has confederates,’ said Hubert. ‘The lord Hervey would not have been easily killed by a solitary attacker. What puzzles me is why he was walking by the river so far from the city.’

  ‘He was not,’ said Ralph.

  ‘How do you know, my lord?’

  ‘Because there was no sign of a struggle at the spot where he was found. I believe that he was killed elsewhere and carried downriver so that it would take time for us to find the body.’ He sighed ruefully. ‘What a hazardous county this is! We have been in Devon barely a week and there have already been two murders. Not to mention a robbery.’

  ‘Robbery?’ said Hubert.

  ‘You mean the two men who stole from the lord Nicholas as he lay in the wood?’ said Gervase.

  ‘No,’ said Ralph, ‘though that was another crime to record. The robbery I talk of is one that was reported to the sheriff by that oily steward, Tetbald. Apparently, an intruder broke in during the night and stole a box belonging to the lord Nicholas.’

  Gervase started. ‘What was in the box, Ralph?’

  ‘They did not know. It was locked. When it was later found on the estate, the lid was open and the box was empty. The crime has unsettled them. The lady Catherine was deeply upset at the thought of someone creeping around her house in the dark while she was in bed.’

  ‘She has cause to be alarmed,’ said Hubert.

  ‘Was anything else taken?’ asked Gervase.

  ‘Just the box,’ said Ralph.

  ‘So the thief knew exactly what he was looking for?’

  ‘Yes, Gervase. And exactly where to find it. He must have been in the house before. Tetbald wonders if it might have been someone who once worked there as a servant.

  ‘Or lived there,’ said Hubert.

  ‘Lived there?’

  ‘Yes, my lord. Many years ago.’

  ‘You sound as if you have someone in mind.’

  ‘I do. One of our claimants once owned that manor house.’

  ‘Who was that?’

  ‘Engelric.

  When Saewin arrived at the imposing house once more, he was shown straight into the parlour. Loretta looked calmly up from the book she was reading.

  ‘I received your message, my lady,’ he said.

  ‘Why has it taken you so long to respond to it?’

  ‘I was held up at the castle. There has been another murder.’

  ‘Murder!’ she exclaimed. ‘Who was the victim?’

  ‘One of the commissioners. The lord Hervey.’

  ‘This is hideous news.’

  ‘They found his body down by the river.’

  ‘Poor man!’ she said, putting a hand to her throat. ‘It is a terrible tragedy. How could it have happened? Well,’ she added quietly, ‘it does at least explain why he was not at the shire hall this afternoon.’

  ‘They were searching for him all day, my lady.’

  ‘Has anyone been arrested for the crime?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Do they have any suspects?’

  ‘The sheriff did not confide in me. I was summoned to the castle by the lord Ralph. He has asked me to tell you, and the others involved in this dispute, that the commissioners have set aside their work until further notice.’

  ‘Is that necessary, Saewin?’

  ‘It is what they have decided.’

  ‘But they cannot abandon an important case like this,’ she said with irritation. ‘I can see that they must be deeply upset by the murder of their colleague and a small delay is inevitable, but they should not let this dispute drag on when it is so easy to resolve.’

  ‘They d
o not find it easy.’

  ‘Only because they insist on being diverted by absurd claims.’

  ‘It is their responsibility to look at all the options, my lady.’

  ‘Their major responsibility is to sit in judgement in the shire hall. You would do well to remind them of that, Saewin.’

  ‘Not unless I want to bring the lord Ralph's ire down upon me,’ he said. ‘He is in no mood to hear complaints from us. Tracking down the killer is the only thing which interests him at the moment.’

  ‘Then why cannot Canon Hubert and Master Bret deputise for him?’ she urged. ‘They did so this afternoon. Let them do so again.’

  Saewin was blunt. ‘I take orders, my lady. Not give them.’

  Loretta set down her book and rose from her chair. Crossing to the table, she picked up the jug and poured wine into two cups, handing one to her visitor before picking up her own. Saewin was at once flattered and surprised by her hospitality. On other occasions when he called at the house, he was kept very much in his place. Loretta resumed her seat and sipped her wine.

  ‘It was wrong of me to badger you,’ she said. ‘It is not your fault if the commissioners see fit to suspend their activities. You are a good man, Saewin. You discharge your duties well.’

  ‘Thank you, my lady.’

  ‘My husband was right to recommend you as town reeve.’

  ‘I was most grateful to him.’

  She took another sip. ‘Who else was called today?’

  He shifted his feet. ‘I would rather not say, my lady.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I must be seen to be impartial.’

  ‘You are,’ she said with a smile. ‘Everyone respects you for it. But everyone is not here, Saewin. I am. And I asked a simple question. Will it harm you to answer it as an act of friendship?’

  ‘Probably not.’

  ‘Then why this reluctance?’

  ‘I am not your spy, my lady!’

  As soon as he blurted out the words, he regretted them. Loretta was plainly offended by the suggestion and looked away from him, exuding a disdain that made him feel completely rebuffed. He gulped some wine down, then adopted a more conciliatory tone.

  ‘That remark was unjust, my lady,’ he said deferentially. ‘What you ask is quite reasonable and I am happy to tell you. The lady Catherine's steward was the first to be called. He was an impatient man, I must say. Then came the abbot of Tavistock and the last to be examined again was yourself.’

  ‘What about Asa?’

  ‘She was not called.’

  ‘Engelric?’

  ‘Nor was he.’

  ‘Good. That sounds encouraging.’

  ‘Do not read too much into it, my lady.’

  ‘I will not. What sort of impact did the steward have?’

  ‘I do not know.’

  ‘Find out for me.’

  He hesitated. ‘I am not sure that I can.’

  ‘Will you refuse me again, Saewin?’ she said levelly.

  ‘No, my lady. Of course not.’

  ‘Then do as I ask. The lady Catherine's claim is the only one which can offer a serious challenge to mine. I would be grateful to hear how it was presented and how received at the shire hall. Is that understood?’ He assented with a nod. ‘Be discreet in your enquiries.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Thank you, Saewin,’ she said baldly. ‘You may leave now.’

  She picked up her book and started reading it again. Eldred came into the room, took the cup from the reeve's hand, then escorted him to the front door. Saewin went out into the street with a sense of indignation. Having served his purpose, he had been summarily evicted.

  The murder changed everything. It not only deprived them of a jovial companion and made them grieve at their loss, it also extended the time they would have to spend in Devon. Gervase Bret's chances of getting back to Winchester in time for his wedding now looked rather slim, but he tried to put personal considerations aside and concentrate on helping to find Hervey de Marigny's killer. Ralph Delchard had ridden out of the city with his men but Gervase felt that the vital clues lay under their noses and were somehow connected with the dispute at the shire hall. Alone in his chamber, he reflected on the possibilities.

  Canon Hubert and Ralph were too preoccupied with the murder to pay much attention to the reported robbery at lady Catherine's manor house. It held more significance for Gervase. He began to wonder if the stolen box had contained the compromising letters from Asa which had been delivered to him. Nicholas Picard would have kept them locked away somewhere in the house. Asa believed it was the lady Catherine who sent the letters in order to embarrass her rival but Gervase doubted if Picard's widow would be able to understand the missives even if she managed to find them. He came round to the view that someone else knew of the existence of the letters and stole them in order to strike at Asa.

  The only person who could suggest the identity of the thief was Asa herself, but Gervase was very reluctant to go to her house again. During his earlier visit, he was prey to ambivalent feelings which he did not wholly comprehend and he was glad that he had finally torn himself away. To go back would be to risk further awkwardness, but he came to see that it was a necessity. Gervase was convinced that the robbery was in some way linked to the two murders. Finding the name of a possible thief was a big step towards identifying the killer himself. He steeled himself and set off to call on Asa again.

  Leaving the castle, he walked swiftly through the city. Asa's house occupied a prime position in a row of small but costly dwellings with fresh thatch on the roofs and neat gardens at their rear. He had wondered on his earlier visit how she could afford such a comfortable abode. This time Gervase got no further than the end of her street. Light was now fading but he had a good view of the man who was moving furtively towards Asa's house. The visitor knocked on the door and was admitted by the servant. Gervase was shocked. The last person he had expected to see in such a place was Saewin the Reeve.

  Walter Baderon was in bed with his wife when he was awakened by the thunderous pounding on his door. A servant went to open the door and a loud voice began to make demands. Baderon groped his way out of bed and stumbled downstairs to investigate. Ralph Delchard was standing in the hall with six of his men, their angry faces illumined by the flame of the servant's candle. Baderon was inhospitable.

  ‘What is the meaning of this intrusion?’ he demanded.

  ‘Walter Baderon?’ said Ralph.

  ‘That is my name.’

  ‘Then you should know mine because it is one that you will remember. I am Ralph Delchard, one of the royal commissioners on business here in Devon. You are aware of our work, I think.’

  ‘What do you want with me?’

  ‘Answers,’ said Ralph. ‘Honest answers.’

  ‘About what, my lord?’

  ‘The murder of my colleague, Hervey de Marigny.’

  Baderon licked his lips but said nothing. His eyes darted. A frightened voice was heard from the top of the staircase. ‘What is it, Walter?’

  ‘Nothing, my love.’

  ‘Who are those men?’

  ‘I will deal with it,’ he said. ‘Go back to bed.’

  ‘What do they want?’

  ‘Go back to bed!’ he snapped.

  His wife withdrew nervously. Baderon took the candle and conducted the visitors to the parlour. More candles were quickly lit by the servant, who then scurried away. Baderon could see the faces of his unexpected guests more clearly. They were grim and determined.

  ‘We have ridden through the night to reach Tavistock,’ said Ralph, ‘and we will not leave until you tell us what we wish to know.’

  ‘I have nothing to tell, my lord.’

  ‘Yes, you do. Let us start with the coincidence.’

  ‘Coincidence?’

  ‘When Nicholas Picard rode out of Exeter to be killed in an ambush, the last person to speak to him was Walter Baderon, captain of the guard at the North Gate. You
were also the last person to speak to the lord Hervey when he left the city last evening to meet his death. Do you deny these charges?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘Then you are lying.’

  ‘I spoke to the lord Nicholas,’ admitted the other. ‘I gave evidence to that effect to the sheriff. And I did meet the lord Hervey some two days ago, though he concealed both his name and his purpose from me. He was trying to trick information out of me. But that was the only time he and I spoke. I swear it, my lord.’

  ‘He came in search of you last night.’

  ‘Then he did not find me.’

  ‘The lord Hervey knew his way to the North Gate.’

  ‘He did not reach it last night, my lord. Ask the other sentries.’

  ‘I have,’ said Ralph. ‘They all sing the same tune. The abbot of Tavistock is a cunning choirmaster. He has taught them well. And he sent you home from Exeter so that you would be out of the way when the body was found.’

  ‘That is not so!’ protested the other.

  ‘Then why did you quit the city?’

  ‘I asked to leave. My wife is unwell.’

  ‘Another coincidence.’

  ‘What is going on here, my lord?’ said Baderon angrily. ‘You have no right to barge into my home and interrogate me like this. Do you have the sheriff's writ?’

  ‘No,’ said Ralph. ‘I answer to a higher authority. A royal commissioner has been slain. If the killer is not found and arrested, the King himself is likely to come riding into Exeter to know the reason why. Would you rather meet his displeasure? As for your wife,’ he said with a glance upwards, ‘she did not sound unwell when she spoke. Upset, perhaps, as well she might be in view of what could happen to her husband.’

  ‘I have done nothing wrong!’

  ‘Then why do you insult me with this pack of lies?’

  ‘They are not lies.’

  ‘We shall see.’ He turned to one of his men. ‘Fetch his wife. We will enquire after her health. Then we will let her remain to witness the rest of our interrogation. It is high time she learned what a lying rogue she has for a husband.’

  The man-at-arms moved away but was stopped by Baderon's shout.

  ‘No!’ he cried. ‘Leave my wife out of this!’