‘I don’t see any guards with you,“ Gilbey said as Dickon crossed to stand beside Perryn. ”We’re not for it yet, then?“
Perryn took the boy’s hand and pulled him down to sit on the bench beside him while Dickon shook his head and answered, “After you left, Master Montfort tried to lead the men back to where he’d had them before you came in…”
‘Damn him,“ Gilbey said.
‘… but they wouldn’t go.“
Frevisse had never paid the boy much heed but seeing him now, she realized he was not much the “little boy” she had been thinking him when she thought of him at all. He was already well into the lanky growth that came on some children earlier than others, and there was enough of his father in the contained way he had answered just now that she thought it likely it wasn’t only in body he was ahead of himself. Attending more to his answer than she would have earlier, she asked, “What happened after we left?”
Dickon regarded her gravely. “Just that. Master Montfort wanted them to say the hood and belt were reason enough to find Simon and Gilbey guilty of Tom’s murder, and Hamon might have, just to make trouble, like, but the rest of them dug in their heels and wouldn’t. They said it didn’t make sense, the hood and belt being there when both men couldn’t have been. Even Bert said there was more looking to be done before things should be called settled, but I think that was because he liked the color Master Montfort’s face was turning and wanted to see how purple it would go. Then Hamon went along with them.”
‘What’s this about a hood and belt?“ Elena asked.
Gilbey told her, briefly, both about them and what had passed with Montfort, ending, “So all he’s got is nonsense and no proof of anything.”
‘But it’s your belt?“ Elena said.
‘Oh, aye, it’s my belt, right enough, and Simon’s hood, but they’ll do Montfort no good.“
‘Unfortunately,“ Frevisse said, ”Montfort is able to believe whatever he wants to believe, ignore whatever he wanted to ignore, unless he’s forced to go another way. We held him off a while with mention of Lord Lovell and Abbot Gilberd and putting questions to him that he didn’t like but none of that will keep him back for long, set against the chance for profit your guilt offers him.“
‘You mean disproving Gilbey and Simon could have been there together isn’t going to be enough?“ Elena said.
‘Not if he wants to believe in it, and that brings us to the need to prove who did kill Tom Hulcote.“
Gilbey rapped impatient knuckles on the table top. “How likely are we to be able to do that?” he said scornfully.
‘Not likely at all if we don’t try,“ Perryn said curtly. He rubbed a large hand over his face, took a deep breath, and looked to Frevisse. ”You have some thought on how to do it?“
For answer, she asked, “What do we know for certain about Hulcote’s death?”
She waited but no one said anything, all of them— Dickon, too—waiting with gazes fixed on her.
‘Begin this way then,“ she said. ”He was last seen alive late on Saturday, yes? By whom?“
There was a pause, the others looking at each other, before Perryn said, “By me.”
Frevisse failed to choke off her surprise. “By you?”
‘Near as I’ve heard anyway.“ Perryn was faintly defiant about it, understanding it was not to his good to have been the last who saw Hulcote living.
Frevisse rethought how to ask the next question, but there seemed only the one way. “He was by himself?”
A unreadable mix of expressions crossed Perryn’s face and he shifted awkwardly where he sat, as if the bench had suddenly become doubly hard under him, before he answered, “Nay. He was with me.”
Hopefully keeping her thoughts hidden, Frevisse asked, “Doing what?”
‘Quarreling.“
‘Over what?“
Perryn did not try to hold in his bitter disgust. “Over Matthew Woderove’s holding, surely. Tom wanted I should tell him I’d change my mind over the holding, let him have it after all, or at least tell him you’d not have it either.”
‘Did you?“ Gilbey snapped.
‘How likely do you think it?“ Perryn snapped back. ”Nay, I told him naught. I was going into church to see how it was there and he overtook me at the church gate, demanding, like there was nothing else in the world but him and that damned holding, and I was that angry at him for it that when he wouldn’t let it go, I told him I wouldn’t even tell him what day of the week it was if he’d asked me, and I certain as hell wasn’t going to tell him about the holding.“
‘And then?“ Frevisse asked.
‘Then he cursed me and said I’d be sorry for it and flung away along the field path there, and I went into the church.“
‘Did anyone see or hear the two of you there?“
‘Not that I know of. They might have. But if they did, they saw him go off alive and well.“
And angry. Angry enough to come back later, when Perryn was home and quarrel with him again?
Frevisse did not ask that, only, “No one has admitted to seeing him after that?”
‘Not anybody.“
‘He was at the alehouse,“ Gilbey said. ”Folk have said so.“
‘But that was before he met me,“ Perryn said. ”The sun was just to the horizon when he left there, Bess has said. It was half gone below when I was talking with him.“
‘You didn’t tell the crowner that,“ Gilbey said.
‘Right enough, I didn’t! That’s all he needs.“
‘If somebody else saw you, they might,“ Gilbey persisted.
‘If somebody else saw us, they saw us quarreling and wouldn’t have kept it to themselves this long, given the way tongues run on wheels around here. It would have been all through the village long before Tom was found dead and you know it.“
‘But you said nothing about it to anyone?“ Frevisse asked.
‘What was to say? That we’d quarreled? No new tidings in that. I had other things I was worried on more than him. I doubt I even thought on it again until after I knew he was dead, and that didn’t seem a good time to say aught about it.“
‘Judging by his body, then,“ Frevisse said, ”we can guess that he was killed sooner rather than later after you last saw him.“
‘Aye.“
‘And it’s certain the body wasn’t put into the ditch until soon before it was found. That tells us someone kept it somewhere the while between. Why?“
The men and Elena passed puzzled looks among themselves before Elena said, slightly a-frown with uncertainty, “Because they couldn’t move it until then?”
‘Why not?“ Frevisse asked. ”It’s easy to understand why they couldn’t leave it where they’d killed him if it was somewhere that would give their guilt away as soon as it was found, but what was different about Monday’s night that made it a safer time than Saturday or Sunday’s night to move the body?“
They all thought again a long moment, before Gilbey said impatiently, “There was naught particular about Monday night. Nothing about Saturday or Sunday either.”
‘It rained once in there,“ Dickon offered.
‘At dawn on Monday,“ Perryn said. ”Just before sunrise and for a little afterwards, not in the night. There was no rain any of those nights. And what would rain have to do with moving the body anyway?“
‘The moon?“ Elena asked but answered for herself, ”No, there wasn’t that much difference in it from one night to the next those nights.“
‘Nor point in waiting in hope of an overcast night when he couldn’t be sure of one,“ Frevisse added. Not when waiting meant the risk of a decaying body betraying the murderer’s secret.
‘And if an overcast night was what he wanted, why didn’t he use the overcast there was Sunday night before the rain?“ Elena asked.
‘Aye,“ Perryn said, impatient, frustrated. ”Why wait until the next night?“
‘To give him a chance,“ Frevisse said, ”to lay hands on your hood and Gilb
ey’s belt.“
Chapter 13
Perryn stared at her as if he understood what she had said but disbelieved she meant it. Then belief caught up to understanding and angrily he said, “Yes.”
Gilbey looked from Frevisse to him and back again and demanded, “What d’you mean?”
‘Some one took them to make us look guilty,“ Perryn said.
Gilbey shot to his feet. “What?” Watching him, Frevisse said levelly, “Whoever the murderer was, he kept the body hidden until he could have something of yours and Perryn’s to leave with it, to make you both look guilty.”
Gilbey dropped back into his chair. “Damn the bastard.”
‘Gilbey,“ Elena said.
‘Pardon, Dame,“ Gilbey muttered, not thinking about it. And added, after a moment’s thought, ”But damn him anyway.“
Whoever had done it likely was damned, unless he turned penitent, made confession to a priest, and did penance, Frevisse thought, but aloud asked Perryn, “Why didn’t you recognize your hood and the belt when you went for the body?”
‘I didn’t see them. Nay, I saw the hood but didn’t heed it, didn’t look close at it, not to know it was mine until I saw the crowner had it and thought back.“
‘You didn’t look closely at it until then?“ Frevisse asked doubtfully.
Perryn shifted, gave a sideways look at Dickon. “I was heeding him.”
‘I was crying,“ Dickon admitted, a little defiantly, refusing to be ashamed despite he likely was. ”Simon took me away while I did and we didn’t see anything of Tom’s b… body being put on the hurdle. Then there was a blanket over it.“
‘When you found the body,“ Frevisse said, ”did you see the hood and belt then?“
‘The hood was lying in the grass on the ditch side, not all the way to the bottom.“ Dickon frowned, thinking. ”Like it had been tossed there, maybe. Tom looked like he’d been rolled down into the ditch and the hood looked like maybe it’d been tossed after him.“
‘But it was you put it over his face?“ Perryn asked gently.
‘Aye.“ Dickon swallowed thickly. ”The birds had been at his… eyes. I didn’t want to leave… leave him… to them…“ Hot color rushed up his face with memory and still-fresh anger. ”They could at least have rolled him over, whoever put him there! Left him face down so the birds couldn’t… couldn’t…“
He shut his eyes and bent his head, to keep in or at least hide tears, and Elena came quickly around the table to him, to lay her hands on his shoulders from behind and say with some of the same anger, “They should have. You’re right. It was cruel not to. You did best for him and bravely, too.”
Perryn took hold of his nearer arm and gave it a kind shake. “You did well, Dickon. Better than most would have.”
Dickon raised his head, wiping tears. “I didn’t see any belt there except what he was wearing and that was just his old one.”
But the other men had seen Gilbey’s and yet had said nothing, not then or afterward. Why? Frevisse wondered but asked aloud, “Perryn, did you or anyone look around for any signs of whoever else had been there?”
‘I looked a little after the body was moved, but there was nothing. The ditch is all grass that wouldn’t keep tracks, and the lane near to there is hard dirt besides being used enough no tracks on it would mean much.“
‘It had rained the morning before.“
‘Not so much everything hadn’t dried by Monday noon.“
Long before Hulcote’s body was brought that way.
She looked to Dickon again. “What did you hear about the hood and belt while you were at the crowner’s court? Who said they were found with the body? Who gave them to him?”
‘I don’t know,“ Dickon answered toward his bare feet, wriggling his toes uncomfortably. ”When I was let go in, the belt and hood were lying there, and the crowner already knew whose they were and all.“
‘Is this taking us anywhere of any use?“ Gilbey bulled in impatiently.
‘It’s taking us out of knowing nothing into knowing something,“ Frevisse said back at him. ”And every something we know takes us a little farther toward maybe knowing enough. Perryn, when did you last have your hood?“
‘When?“ He thought, with an absent nod at Elena offering to refill his goblet while he did. ”It’s been warm. I’ve not needed it since it last rained. That was…“ He stopped, seeing what he was about to say.
Gilbey said it for him. “Monday morning. Today’s the first it’s rained since then.” He held out his goblet for his wife to fill.
‘You’re sure that’s when you had it last?“ Frevisse asked. ”That you had it then?“
‘Certain of it,“ Perryn said. ”I went before milking to see how things were at the church. I mind I stood in the house doorway putting on my hood, watching the rain and wondering if there’d be enough to help the corn along.“
‘When and where do you last know you had it?“
‘At my house, when I’d come back from the church that morning. The rain was stopped and the hood was wet, and I took it off before I sat down to breakfast.“ He thought a moment longer. ”I’ve no thought of it after that.“
Frevisse looked to Gilbey. “Your belt. When did you last have it?”
‘Sunday,“ he said. ”After that…“ He shrugged and looked to his wife questioningly.
‘He wore it Saturday when he went to fetch the doctor and was wearing it when he came home again,“ Elena said.
‘For all the good it did to bring that fool,“ Gilbey grouched. ”I had to pay him above his fee to make him come at all, and then when he’s here all he says is that the thing has to run its course, keep them in the dark and their fevers down, and then he offered some medicine we could have for a gold piece but if that swill was medicine, I’m a peascod. I wouldn’t have taken the filth myself if I was dying, let be give it to the boys.“
‘Nor did we,“ Elena said. She had set the pitcher down after Frevisse had refused more to drink and went now to stand behind Gilbey, putting her hands quietingly on his shoulders much as she had with Dickon. ”What Mistress Margery gave us…“
A thin, unhappy wail from overhead turned all their heads toward the stairs, and, “That’s Ned,” Gilbey said, rising. “I’ll go, before he can have James awake.”
Frevisse hoped she covered her surprise that he would go to tend to a sick child and maybe to two if the other awoke, but Elena only said to him as he went, “Send Agnes down if it’s possible. She’s as like to know about your belt, about who’s come and gone from the house since Sunday, as anyone.”
‘Aye,“ Gilbey agreed, disappearing up the stairs.
Suddenly not trying to hide how tired she was, Elena sat down in his place, her hands dropping into her lap, her shoulders slumping; but she managed her lovely smile, shadowed though her eyes were, and said, “I’m sorry. It’s not been a good week.”
Frevisse smiled back at her with full understanding and agreement. “No, it’s not been.” But that did not change what had to be done now, as quickly as might be before Montfort made things worse. “What else do you remember about Sunday and Monday? Who came and went from here is what matters, I suppose. Or maybe we should begin with what you last remember about the belt.”
Elena put a hand to her forehead and shut her eyes, thinking before answering, “I remember it Sunday night, Gilbey taking it off. We’d given the doctor our bed.” She gestured toward upstairs with a small twitch of her head. “Gilbey was going to sleep down here and Agnes and I with the boys, but Gilbey and I stayed talking a time before I went up after Agnes. He was angry about the doctor. I was angry he’d gone for him at all. Mistress Margery…” She broke off, said with a smile, “That’s neither here nor there. About the belt. I remember him taking it off while we talked because he was starting to ready for bed. He coiled it up and put it down here on the table.” She reached out to lay a hand on the nearest corner of the broad tabletop, fell silent with more thought, then shook her head. “I do
n’t remember seeing it after that. The doctor went very early the next morning. He’d brought his own man with him, so Gilbey didn’t have to go back with him. Ned and James were worsening by the moment by then, and I hardly heeded anything else all day. Or the next or next. I never thought about the belt at all from then until now.”
An older woman came down the stairs, sidewise as if she did not trust her knees on their steepness. Like Elena, she showed both the tiredness and untidiness of too many days spent caring for someone else and not herself, but when she turned from the stairs, the look she gave them all was sharp-eyed enough to show she was ready for more, if need be, and after a deep curtsy to Frevisse and while making a lesser one to Perryn and Elena together and ignoring Dickon, she said, “They’ll settle again now their father is there. He said you wanted me for something, mistress?”
By her speech she was from Banbury, rather than country bred, had probably come from there with Elena who nodded her toward one of the joint stools, saying, “Sit while you have the chance. Dame Frevisse has questions she wants to ask us about Monday last.”
‘Monday last?“ Agnes sat frowning over Monday last. ”That fool of a doctor was here who couldn’t tell you more than I already knew.“
That sounded like something Agnes would talk about at length, given the chance, and Frevisse put in quickly, “After he left, did anyone else come here that day?”
‘Monday,“ Agnes repeated, thinking about it. ”The boys were sickening by the moment that day, worse and worse, poor little things.“ She fixed an accusing stare on Dickon. ”You’re still well enough, it seems.“
‘I was meseled when I was little,“ he said uneasily, as if it were a matter of guilt. Or something he had had to explain too often of late.
‘And lived. That’s good.“ She looked to Elena who was making the sign of the cross over her breast. ”Ours will do fine now, too. You’ll see.“ But she and Perryn and Dame Frevisse and Dickon all crossed themselves nonetheless before she returned to the point. ”Monday. No, I wasn’t heeding much else than the boys, would I be? Mistress Margery came. After the doctor was gone. Said we should steep balm in water for the boys’ drinking, to help against the fevers rising, and chamomile, and said the nuns were going to send a columbine cordial as soon as it was brewed. She brought that Tuesday morning, yes. And Father Edmund, he was here on Monday.“
9 The Reeve's Tale Page 15