“Thomas has told you all?” she asked, eyes round with shock.
Baldwin realized she hadn’t heard about the two deaths the night before. He explained what had happened, and told her he knew Quivil had killed her father.
In response, her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away from them. After sniffing and wiping at her face, she exclaimed: “It’s a huge relief! Oh, my God! It’s as if I have been released from a curse: unable to admit what I knew, having to hide the man who killed my father, trying to keep calm to protect my husband! Perhaps it’s odd that I should be pleased to hear that Edmund is dead—well, I am not happy at his death. But it is wonderful to know that at last I can tell the truth.”
She slumped back in her seat as if exhausted, closing her eyes a moment. When she had recovered herself a little, aided by a strong draft of wine administered by her maid, she began to speak, and her tale was identical to Rodde’s.
“It was a terrible shock to see him here after so long a separation,” she confessed. “I had almost assumed the worst, that the disease had taken its hold on him, or even that he had died. Seeing him in Crediton was like seeing a man raised from the dead.”
“You were conscious when the two left?”
“Yes. And thankfully, I could save our plate.”
“That was what I was keenest to hear about,” Baldwin smiled.
“You noticed it had gone, didn’t you? You were very quick to see that. Well, it wasn’t stolen. All that happened was, when Thomas and Edmund had gone, my maid came down and walked into the room. She screamed as soon as she saw us all lying on the ground. I called her over and told her I was all right, but while we spoke, John came in at full pelt.”
“What was he doing there?”
“Visiting my maid.”
“She was the woman John of Irelaunde was seeing! That explains a lot!”
“They had been meeting regularly for some weeks. I saw no harm in it, so I didn’t stop them. John convinced me that he wasn’t merely taking advantage of a young and impressionable girl.”
“So that evening, John ran in, thinking something was wrong with his woman.”
“Yes. I can’t think he was anxious on my own account! He came in, and went straight to Alison. When he saw me, though, he came to my side. I told him to shove as much of the plate as possible into a sack.”
“Why?”
“Father was down; I was hurt, though not badly; Putthe was unconscious and the other servants all away. There was no one to protect our silver, the best in Crediton, worth more than the plate in Exeter Cathedral! And you know as well as I how many outlaws there are—men who’d break down a door for a loaf of bread, let alone a king’s ransom in silver!”
“If you had asked John to remain there, he could have looked after it for you.”
“I couldn’t! You know the reputation John has in the town. He’s looked on as a conman and thief—how would people react to finding him in my house with two men knocked out and me feeble with a bloody mouth?”
“You could have stood up for him,” Baldwin said reasonably.
“Sir Baldwin, I felt horrible—sick, weak, with a massive headache. I was in a terrible state of shock and needed my bed. If I went up, and people came in and found John, he’d be carted off before anyone would bother to speak to me. And while he was gone, anybody could have come in and taken all the plate. No, I felt it best that the more costly items should be hidden until I knew they could be protected.”
“So John bundled up the plate and made his way home?”
“He wasn’t going to originally. I only asked him to put it all into a sack and take it up to my room, but then we heard Coffyn and his men approaching.”
Baldwin closed his eyes. “Let me just get this right,” he said. “Your father shouted, and was struck down, then Putthe ran in, and lastly John arrived. John was never left alone in here?”
“No. I was here all the time. I felt too weak to stand.”
“We know that your father returned home because of the arrival of Coffyn’s men. So in the time it took for Godfrey to come back and be knocked down, in the time it took for John to come in and find you, that was how long Coffyn and his men were running around opening all the cupboards and searching the garden. Once they had finished, they came round here.”
“That’s right. As soon as we heard their steps approaching the door, I told John to go in case he might be hurt. He wasn’t sure about it, and he wasn’t pleased to leave my maid and me alone, but we insisted, and lucidly he went. I asked him to take the silver with him, and he agreed. In the meantime I sent my maid out and told her to listen at the door.”
“But why? You were about to be safe, with Coffyn here.”
She gave him a half-apologetic glance. “That may be so, but at the time all I knew was that a man who was desperate for money, who had borrowed money from my father, was on his way. What would he do when he found all the household’s plate undefended?”
“You thought Coffyn could have tried to steal it?”
“He needs money.”
“But for all you knew, your father was only unconscious, and Putthe could have woken at any moment. Why should Coffyn steal from you?”
“Sir Baldwin, I had noticed that whenever Coffyn came here, he always used to look longingly at the plate. Now, if someone was hard up for money and they were to walk into a room in which the house-owner and his servant were knocked down, wouldn’t you wonder what they might do? As it was, when he came into the room, I saw his gaze fly to the cupboard. It didn’t take him long to see the plate was gone. Only then did he come to me and see how I was. He called my maid in, and ordered his man to help her take me upstairs. Once I was in my chamber, he sent for Tanner.”
Simon was frowning with confusion. “But all we’ve heard suggests that Coffyn is wealthy now. I thought his money problems were over.”
“Over?” Cecily laughed. “No, Matthew Coffyn owed my father a small fortune. Oh, he may have been able to keep up his lifestyle, but only with my father’s assistance. I don’t know what he’ll do now.”
“When did John bring back all the plate?” Baldwin asked.
“The night he was attacked. He was returning from delivering the plate here when he was taken, poor devil!”
Simon nodded. “And the horseshoe? You asked Jack up here that night because you didn’t want such a leper-hater to see Thomas in the street?”
“That’s right—how did you guess? Jack loathed the sight of lepers. The last thing I wanted was for Thomas to be attacked, or for rumors of his visit to be bruited abroad. Either would spell disaster. At the same time it allowed me to ensure that Putthe was out of the way as well.”
“What about Putthe?” asked Baldwin. “He seems to have been confused almost all the time. On the night your father died, he hinted that John must have stolen the plate, then that the smith was involved—was that because you told him to confuse us?”
“Putthe can be a fool on occasion. Don’t forget he knew nothing about the plate being given to John for protection. All he knew was, I was seeing someone, and then he noticed John in the yard just before he saw us in the hall. He knew of John’s reputation—who doesn’t?—and when you told him the plate was gone, he leapt to the wrong conclusion.”
“But the second time he more or less implied that the smith must be guilty.”
“By then he had been told how John had taken the plate and looked after it. He had also been told off by Alison, who left him in no doubt why John was visiting. Putthe was confused. He knew Jack and didn’t trust him. Who else should he think could be guilty?”
“I see,” Baldwin said, and stood. “And now, I think we should leave you alone. You should be resting after so much excitement.”
She smiled wistfully. “Yes, it’s been a mad time. First seeing my husband again, then my father dying by poor Quivil’s hand. My whole life appears to have changed in a matter of days. But I can’t let Thomas disappear again.”
“He may decide to go and leave you to begin a new life,” Simon pointed out.
“I cannot let him. Who else will be willing to take care of him?”
“Quite,” said Baldwin, but he said it with a distracted air, and he avoided her eyes.
27
In the street, Baldwin turned his mount toward the Dean’s house. There the knight and his friend went through to John’s room. John was happy enough to confirm the true events of the evening of Godfrey’s death, but Simon noticed once more that Baldwin appeared to be listening with only half an ear. His attention was elsewhere.
To Simon this was no surprise. Baldwin was betrothed, and the knight had plenty to consider. All the bailiff knew was that it was a relief Emma wouldn’t be able to poison the marriage. Some women got so attached to their maids that the possibility of discarding them was intolerable. Simon himself felt pretty much the same about his own servant, Hugh. The man was morose, sullen, and gloomy. He was slow, and often ineffectual. Yet he was a part of Simon’s household, and life without him was unthinkable.
But it was also quite clear that a man like Baldwin, who prized his hounds almost above all else, would loathe the sight of someone who had tried to tease his favorite into attacking, purely so that the dog must be destroyed. Simon shook his head. It was hard for him to understand, because he always felt dogs were just like any other animal—he didn’t like seeing them beaten or stoned in the street, even if mangy and flea-ridden mutts had to be killed—but they weren’t something to get particularly fond of; they were just guards, and they earned their food and drink by protecting their master. The bailiff would never have risked the hand of his wife because of a blasted hound!
“Before you accuse me of fornication, Sir Baldwin, I should tell you that Alison has already agreed to marry me.”
“That is good to hear,” Baldwin said. “Especially since I know the hardship you endured in Ireland.”
“It was a long time ago. It’s time I found a life again.”
“One thing I don’t understand yet is why you told us there were two men in Godfrey’s garden, and that they made you turn back to the house,” Baldwin frowned as he and Simon sat on a bench near the Irishman’s bed.
John grinned. “I knew very little at the time. Alison hadn’t told me about her mistress’ husband, so I simply told you the truth. I didn’t realize Mistress Cecily would want to protect the men who had killed her father—why should I? All I knew was, someone had attacked the place and for all I knew the two men out near my wall could have been them.”
“That clears it all up,” said Baldwin.
“I only hope this leg will clear up as quickly as your mystery has, Sir Baldwin,” John muttered glumly.
“The monks here are as good as any in the realm,” Baldwin grinned. “And you have a new life to look forward to. I am sure your wife-to-be will visit you often to assist your recovery.”
The knight stood, smiling reassuringly down at the wounded man, and the bailiff also rose to his feet.
As Simon observed his friend, he mused over the knight’s affection for his dog. It led him to another thought. The incident with the dog was false; it had been manufactured by the maid. If her deception hadn’t been witnessed by Hugh, Uther would probably (Simon still wasn’t convinced that Baldwin could have seen the brute killed) be dead, and Emma would be cock-a-hoop. He was reminded of his reflection the previous day as he rode back to Baldwin’s house: appearances could be deceptive.
“My God!”
His startled expostulation made Baldwin glance up, momentarily brought out of his glum reflections. “What?”
“That leper, Quivil! What did he look like?”
“Simon, what are you on about?”
“He was wasted, wasn’t he? You recall his arms? Like sticks. Ralph told us he had lost his appetite since learning of his disease, didn’t he?”
“So?”
“Could a man in so weak a condition have crushed Godfrey’s skull like that?”
Baldwin stared. Before he could speak, John interrupted them.
“There is one thing I didn’t understand, gentlemen. While I was with Cecily, I really didn’t think Godfrey was dead. I mean, as a soldier, I’ve seen enough men who’re dead or about to be, but Godfrey didn’t look it. He was just lying there as if he was asleep, you know?”
Now Baldwin met Simon’s gaze and nodded slowly. “When you were attacked, John, why did you think your home was ransacked?”
“Oh, because they were hoping to find the plate. That’s what I thought then, and I still think so now.”
“But you couldn’t tell us?”
“Mistress Cecily wanted to keep things quiet about that night. It was her secret, not mine.”
Simon took hold of his friend’s arm. “Just as Coffyn kept his wife’s secret! He wanted to keep things quiet about her,” he said urgently.
“What are you getting at, Simon?”
“Baldwin, for some time, according to Coffyn, he has suspected that his wife has been having an affair—and yet he did little or nothing about it until now! Is it credible? Any man would take the revenge he took on John here as soon as he realized what was going on!”
John stared from one to the other. “But nothing was!” he protested.
“Not with you, no. That was why Coffyn didn’t attack you,” Simon said, and sighed as he caught sight of his friend’s expression. “Come on, Baldwin. We both know what happened, don’t we?”
The knight rose, and was about to leave the room when the infirmarer nursing John came back into the room. Baldwin hesitated, then grabbed him and muttered to him. Simon thought the monk looked surprised to be manhandled like that, but the bailiff saw him frown, head on one side while he listened, then he gave two sharp nods of agreement, and before he went to John, Simon heard him say, “Yes, I will. It would be easy to check, as you say.”
“Good. Now, come along Simon,” Baldwin called over his shoulder as he ran from the room.
The door was ajar, and Baldwin pushed it wide and entered the passage. He exchanged a glance with Simon. The house was silent. On every other occasion when they had walked in, there had been a guard at the door, servants rattling pots and pans, soldiers shouting or laughing as they played merrils or dice, yet now there was nothing.
They walked along the screens, Simon finding his hand wandering to his sword-hilt in the darkened passage. There were no candles in the sconces, no open door at the far end, and the light spilled out from the hall itself. With the absence of noise, it was oddly intimidating, and Simon found he was unwilling to step into the pool of brightness.
Baldwin felt a similar tension. He was anxious to prevent another killing. It was a relief when he recognized his quarry in the hall.
The room was almost empty. William sat on a bench near the wall, swinging his legs idly, and his master was seated near the fire. The place seemed unnaturally quiet.
“I was about to find you to confess.”
“You may do so now. It might help.”
“It will,” Coffyn said with conviction. He was a shrivelled hulk, a pallid reflection of his former self. As he spoke, he had a knuckle resting on his chin as if in preparation to chew the nails again should the pressure become too much. “I have nothing to live for now. My men have gone because they know I have no coin to pay them with. My wife has left me. I think she’s gone to her brother in Exeter. My work is finished because she cleared out my strongbox before she went. I have nothing left. God has ruined me, and yet I don’t know why!”
Baldwin sat opposite him, fixing the merchant with a serious, but compassionate stare. He waved briefly at William, who appeared to understand, and went to fetch wine for them. “God would not have been pleased with your behavior, Matthew,” Baldwin murmured.
“Eh? How dare you say that! Of course He would!” the other stated scornfully. “I destroyed a man who was breaking one of His commandments. ”Thou shalt not commit adultery,“ remember? God would have
been pleased with my efforts. And all I did with the lepers was to fulfill His aim of punishing them.”
Baldwin accepted a warmed mug of wine from William, who walked to stand close to his master, although whether to support Coffyn or to hold him, the knight wasn’t sure.
“When did you first realize Godfrey had seduced your wife?” asked Baldwin.
Coffyn shot him a black look before studying his nails. “You think he seduced her? That’s charitable, Sir Baldwin. Personally I’d hesitate to jump to that conclusion. No matter! I never guessed he was interested in her until my last journey on business. Before that, we had never got on particularly well. Suddenly, about four months ago, he began to take an interest in my work. As soon as he heard that things were becoming tough, he offered me some help.
“Now it seems so obvious. It was at just the same time as Martha started preening herself. As she demanded new clothes and trinkets to show off her beauty, my neighbor offered me money. But the more I borrowed, the more he demanded in interest, and the more my wife wanted tunics and jewels. I never thought he would cuckold me, just as I never thought she would disgrace herself.”
“When did you know for certain?”
“I’d heard something in the street about John with my wife. People used to go quiet when they saw me, and some pointed and laughed, but I knew she’d not demean herself to that extent. She’s not the kind to want tender embraces from a miserable peasant like him. No, I realized who was sleeping with her when I came home early one day and heard him leaping from my roof. Some of my men were in the front garden, so whoever it was must have escaped through the back, and that meant whoever it was had got away over the fence into Godfrey’s land. It made me start to wonder about Godfrey. When I went away the next time, the night Godfrey died, I had a man stationed out here. He went to the hall and asked for Godfrey, on the pretext that I wanted to check on a loan from him. But Godfrey wasn’t there. That was when I knew for certain.”
“So you came home, you searched your house, and while you did so, you heard his cry.”
“I heard him shout, yes, but I didn’t realize it was him at the time. My man was here, and told me Godfrey wasn’t in his hall, so I searched my house. I was convinced he was here somewhere.”
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