1588 A Calendar of Crime

by Shirley McKay

  The boy looked for mercy, not to him, but to Hew Cullan. He was afraid, but his eyes were trusting. His trust was in Hew. It was to him that he pleaded, ‘I did not do this. I was in the house.’

  The crownar observed, as a matter of fact but of little interest, that a man could do a murder from the safety of his house, if he had a sling.

  ‘I dinna hae a sling. He took it from me.’

  ‘That is true.’ Hew Cullan put a hand on John Kintor’s shoulder. It was not the hand that apprehends, but the hand that protects. Andrew Wood considered this. He judged each case, without sentiment or prejudice, on the basis of the evidence. His decisions were pragmatic, and his actions unreserved. He had not expected to find a murder here, but the fact he came upon one did not trouble him. He spared no pity for the age of the accused. He did not judge persons, but deeds, and he judged them as he found them, without let or pause. He dealt not in mercy, but justice.

  ‘A sling is no more than a knotted piece of cord,’ he said. ‘An easy thing for anyone to make, at any time.’

  ‘Not anyone could fire into a man’s open mouth,’ said Giles, covering the corpse.

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘There is no certain evidence, to link the crime to John,’ said Hew.

  ‘I believe there is.’ His judgment on the case was absolute. The lawyer in Hew Cullan understood this, for he played his last card.

  ‘We claim Yule Girth.’

  ‘I will grant you your request. But you should consider what it means. It will give this boy a stay of execution, which I permit until the seventh of January, the day after Uphalyday. On that day, the law will take its course, and you must deliver up John Kintor to be hanged. There will be no trial, and no other plea. If you think it kindness to let one of his tender years lie in dread to wait for sure and heavy justice, then do so, by all means. If it were my boy, I should want the rope to come presently, and swift,’ Andrew said.

  ‘We claim Yule Girth,’ said Hew, ‘upon your terms. These are ours. On January seventh, I will put forward evidence and proofs, to explain this crime. And, if I cannot . . .’ He paused.

  ‘If you cannot?’ the crownar prompted.

  ‘If I cannot, I will offer you myself, for justice in his place. For I am the master of this boy. This is my house and my land, under my protection and my jurisdiction. If there is wrong done here, I will answer to it.’

  Giles Locke said, appalled, ‘Think what you say.’

  But Hew said, ‘I know what I say.’ He looked at the crownar. ‘Do you accept it?’

  Sir Andrew saw before him the glint of a prize. Yet he was unsure of it. ‘Is this some trick of yours? Do you intend, perhaps, to come before the king?’ he said.

  The lawyer shook his head. ‘It is an honest contract. As to the king, I cannot tell you now the confidence between us. It may not come to pass. But I will lay all before you, when the Yule is done.’

  ‘Then,’ said the crownar, ‘I accept your terms.’ He allowed Hew a moment to consider with his friend. ‘If you are content to conclude the bargain, then it will be binding. Unless you show proof to exonerate this boy, or deliver him to the place of execution, I will take your life from you, in the place of his.’

  ‘I am not content,’ said Giles. ‘I do not consent to it. Do not be a fool, Hew. Think of Frances and the bairn. This man will hang you, for sure.’

  ‘Courage, Giles,’ said Hew. ‘It will not come to that.’

  His confidence, his foolishness, struck Andrew as extraordinary. Never had a man placed his head so willingly in the crownar’s noose. ‘He will die,’ he thought, ‘die at my hands.’ So much was a certainty, and ought to satisfy. And yet for reasons he did not quite understand, he felt uncertain of it, troubled still by doubt.

  ‘John Kintor and Giles Locke are witness to this contract here,’ he said. ‘I accept your petition for Yule Girth, on the terms set out. But you maun forgive me, for my want of trust, if I place a girdle round your house. You shall have your girth, but it will confine you, your family and your household, for the rest of Yule. Justice will take place, with no let or escape, when that time is done. I shall send men to enforce it.’

  ‘This contract is not right. It cannot bind us,’ Giles demurred.

  But Hew replied, ‘It does.’

  The crownar left for town, arranging for a guard to be placed on the house, and for Alan Petrie’s body to be borne away. It was only when he came back to his brother’s house, where his family gathered to enjoy the Yule, that he realized why he was not quite content: he had not found out Hew’s business with the king.

  III

  Frances found her husband sitting in the library. He was looking at the copy of the Gude and Godlie ballads, which the bairns and Gavan Baird had left open on the desk. His smile to her was wary. ‘I suppose you heard,’ he said.

  ‘I should have preferred to have heard it first from you. Or that you had consulted me, before you lost your head.’

  ‘I know. And I am sorry for it.’

  ‘Still,’ she was bright now, and brisk, ‘you will solve it, I suppose. And, if you cannot, there is the king. You will come to his will, for he is your friend.’

  ‘Frances, the king–’

  ‘You do not have to tell me,’ Frances said. ‘I know there is a reason why you did not say. I do not need to know all that’s in your mind. It only hurts a little, when you do not trust me. I have English family, English friends, I see that. But you surely know by now I do not spy on you.’

  ‘There is no one in the world I trust so much,’ he assured her. ‘The thing about the king, it was never meant. It came about from something Matthew said by accident.’

  ‘Children have a way of finding out a thing, though they have no understanding what it signifies. I hope that Matthew’s blurting has not put you into danger, though.’

  Hew said, a little wretchedly, ‘It has not. It helps.’

  ‘Then I am glad to know that you have all in hand. I will not plague you now with questions. I came only to ask what should be done about the banquet here tonight. Though Andrew Wood has placed a guard upon the house, it does not stop our tenants from the farms from coming through to us. Since we are confined here, and we have so much, I thought we should go on with it, in spite of that poor man. His body has been taken to the town. Giles insisted it be kept in the mort house there, until the time –’ Here, Frances stopped, from fear, or else from delicacy. She could not name the time. ‘Till then. Giles says there is no family to contend with. He has kept the pellet here, as evidence.’

  ‘That is good, and helpful, Frances. I do not suppose you ken what happened to the sling and pellets that were here? They were still in their places when we left for kirk.’ That was on his mind, had been on his mind, ever since he came to fetch them from the library. He did not find his answer in the book.

  Frances looked around. ‘Are they gone from here? Does that mean John Kintor took them after all?’

  ‘It means something, doubtless. But I am not inclined to think that it means John. A sling is something John can make himself. If he wanted to replace it he could do so in an instant. I knew that when I took it from him, and he kent it too. The confiscation was a kind of figure. It is like taking from a man the badge of his office, rather than the tools of his trade. Such a thing is not recovered quite so easily. It has to be earned. John Kintor understood that. I made sure he did. It would astonish me to find he took it back.’

  ‘But if, as you say, he could make another one, the slinger in itself proves nothing,’ Frances pointed out.

  ‘Its presence would not signify at all,’ Hew agreed, ‘but its absence does. It is has been removed by someone in the house. Where is Gavan Baird today? I see he left his book.’

  ‘He went to his sister, in Arbroath, for the holiday. But you cannot suspect Gavan Baird,’ Frances said.

  ‘I do not suspect. I admit, or reject, the possibility. When did he leave?’

  ‘Yesterday, at noon.�
�

  ‘If you saw him go, that will rule him out. That leaves us Bella, Robert, John Kintor and his family, one among the grooms, a serving lass, perhaps–’

  ‘Robert and Bella!’ Frances exclaimed. ‘You cannot accuse them! They are our friends. Why, you have missed out Flora and Billy. Are the babbies not among your suspects too?’

  ‘I do not accuse them,’ answered Hew. ‘I observe, merely, that they were at the house when this man was killed. They must answer questions. For if a stranger came, and passed into the library, Bella will have seen. It is also of note, that Robert had a plain dislike of the man who died. They had met before. Petrie gave evidence against him at the kirk, when Bella was with child. Robert had to marry her.’

  ‘And?’ Frances gave no quarter to that line of reasoning. She was far from pleased. And Hew began to see the perils of the path ahead.

  ‘These are motives, Frances, that must be explored. That is how investigation works,’ he said.

  ‘Then I wish you had not chosen to investigate.’

  ‘Would you prefer it that John Kintor was hanged, whether he is guilty of the crime or not?’

  She was silent then.

  ‘Do not fret, Frances, I will resolve this. All will work out,’ he assured her. ‘When did it not?’

  ‘Well then, I trust you. I will go back to my banquet.’

  ‘Give me leave to speak in private with Bella for a while. I will try her first.’

  Frances smiled at that. ‘Courage to you, then. Bella will not suffer your foolishness as I do.’

  Hew smiled back at her. ‘I imagine not,’ he said. ‘I may need some support. What is Giles about?’

  ‘You will have to face your battleground alone. He and Meg are comforting their son. It was hard for Matthew to make sense of this.’

  Hew was sobered then. ‘It must have been. Then I must do without his friendly counsel too. Matthew is not pleased with me.’

  ‘No one here is pleased with you,’ Frances said severely. ‘Matthew least of all.’

  ‘He was much stomachit because I dared to discipline his beloved John. He ought to be more grateful that I save his life.’

  ‘He does not know that yet. Matthew owns the mill. It belongs to him. And John Kintor belongs to the mill. Therefore, he thinks John is under his protection. He holds himself responsible for taking care of him.’

  ‘Ah, that is absurd!’ Hew said. ‘He is six years old. Why should he believe that burden falls to him?’

  ‘His mirror is the man who gave to him the mill,’ his wife replied.

  Bella Frew was a fury to contend with. The Yule bread she was making was receiving such a pummelling that Hew was thankful he was not beside it on the board. Bella had a force in her that far outstripped her size. There was sufficient muscle built in kneading buns and cakes and whisking creams and syllabubs to feed the crowds at Yule, to supply the guard.

  ‘Ah dinna ken,’ she answered him again, with so sharp a smack against the unresisting dough he almost felt a bruise. ‘Ye maun pardon me, if while I wis polishing plate, and scrubbing the pots, and chopping the herbs, an washing the cups, and sweeping the flair, and hinging the clouts, and tending to Bill an wiping the airse of yer ain bonny babe, I did not keep a watch upon your lordship’s library. I wis not telt I wis to be in charge of that as well.’

  ‘Bella, you ken well that was not what I meant. Did you see anyone go up to the library, while we were out? Or could someone have done so while your back was turned?’

  Bella answered plainly, ‘No, and aye. I niver saw anybody climb the turret tower. I did not go upstairs. But I was not in one place all the time. I was in the nether hall, tending to the bairns, or setting up the banquet, or in the kitchen here. The kitchen door was open, to let out the steam. It was awfy warm. A person could have passed through at any time. In fact–’

  ‘In fact, what?’

  Bella gave the dough another vicious slap. ‘Just what I have said. I cannot tell you more.’

  Hew went to the door, which was open still. It was close by the pantry, filled up with food for the twelve nights to come. A fraction of it would be eaten at that evening’s feast.

  Bella came behind him. ‘You will have a sour sauce, if you dip your fingers in. Niver mind ye are the master of the house; ah dinnae care.’

  ‘Plainly,’ said Hew.

  ‘Well then, haud your hands. There is a system here, as the doctor calls it. The things to the left are all for the nicht. In the middle are the things that last another week. And to the right are things that last the longest time. Woe betide the one who dares to mix it up.’

  ‘This is the soul of superfluous cheer.’

  ‘It is not so much. And it is not only for us. It will feed all the farms, and those of the poor who can come to the feast, and those that your guidwife will visit at hame, if the crownar allows it. By twelvetide, it will be gone. We will want more for the king.’

  ‘Ah. You have heard that.’

  ‘You should have telt us,’ she said. ‘We have, I doubt, sufficient flour and flesh, but all of this will hae to be begun again, for some of it will spoil.’

  ‘I do not think it will. The truth is, Bella, that the coming of the king is a secret thing, or was meant to be. Therefore, he will make do with the common ordinary, and expect no more.’

  She was mollified a little. ‘Will he come alone, or bring a horde with him?’ she asked.

  ‘I think it very likely he will come alone. I am sorry to have put you to more trouble over it. But do you understood why I have to ask you questions? Have you heard the news?’

  She softened to him then. ‘Robert said. It is a kind of game you play with Andrew Wood. He says that you have put yourself precisely in the noose where Andrew Wood has longed to have you all the while, and that he will hang you.’

  ‘He will,’ Hew said quietly. ‘If I cannot find the answers to the questions. Frances does not ken. She knows, but she does not understand the set of Andrew’s mind.’

  ‘That man is a monster,’ Bella said. ‘And you should ken better than to play with him. Frances is too soft. If you were Robert, now, I would be blind with rage at you. Robert has a bairn, and you do too. Yet you will chance your life upon a silly game.’

  ‘It is not a game. It is to save John Kintor.’

  ‘Is it, now?’ She sniffed. ‘Tell yourself that.’

  Then Bella relented. She dealt him harsh words, but offered a balm. And he knew her well enough to wait for it. ‘I did not see awbody go up to the library. But.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘I dinnae like rats. I have never liked rats. And the trouble with a door left open by the pantry is that there is a chance that a rat may slip inside. Do you see?’

  Hew believed he did. ‘Did a rat come in, while you were in the hall?’

  ‘A very large one did. It was sniffing in the pantry, when I came back in. Now when I see a rat, I chase it with the broom. Unless it is too big. Then I have no stomach for it, and I call for Robert.’

  ‘So that is what you did.’

  ‘That is what I did. Robert saw it out. He had it by the scruff, and I heard it squeal. That is all I ken. If you want to ken mair, ye maun talk to Robert.’

  ‘That I intend to do. Thank you, Bella.’

  ‘Thank me for nought. You will not hing this on Robert, Hew. He did not kill the man. And if he wanted to, he would not use a sling. Do not, in your foolishness, set your mind on that. He will not swing for John Kintor. He loves you. We both do. He has saved your life before, and you have fought for his. But fix it in your mind, he will not hang for you.’

  Hew found Robert Lachlan talking at the stable with the sour-tempered groom, who had not been employed at the stable long. Both men smelt of drink. They had tried to slip the guard, Robert said, but had not succeeded. ‘It wasna worth the fash of starting up a fight,’ Robert said. Hew asked if he would walk down to the mill with him, to take him out of sight and hearing of the groom.

  �
�You seem thick with that man.’

  ‘Ach,’ Robert said, ‘I wasnae sure of him. I thocht to try him out.’

  That was Robert’s way. He was suspicious of anyone new, and an incorrigible spy. His ‘trying out’ involved interrogation of a subtle kind. His torture of choice was the grain. He could drink anyone into the sink. They did not know, till they woke up the next morning with their heaving bellies and their thumping brains, that they had spent the evening on the rack.

  ‘And?’

  ‘He can haud his drink. He has a savage wit. He is good with the horses. He likes them,’ Robert said.

  ‘But?’

  ‘But he is a malcontent, a sour, unhappy man. You will hae no loyalty from him. He is fu’ of spite. He is envious, of everything he sees. He will not start a fight, or try to steal from you.’

  ‘That is encouraging, at least,’ said Hew.

  ‘You would think so. But ye would be wrong. A man can brawl, and steal from you, and bear ye yet no malice in the world. The man that does no ill, but bears it in his heart, is no man that ye want biding in your house.’

  ‘You are right, and I thank you. I will bear it in mind. You have a nose for sniffing out rats. Bella tells me that you dealt with one for her today.’

  ‘Ah, she did, did she? Well, ye will ken all about it.’

  ‘I do not ken. Bella was tight-lipped.’

  Robert roared at that. ‘That wid be a first. She had some choice words to say to me of you.’

  ‘Aye, she telt me some of them.’

  ‘Not the half, I doubt. What possessed you, Hew, to tickle Andrew Wood? You know that he will hang you in a heartbeat.’

  ‘Help me, then,’ said Hew. ‘I ken you did not kill the man.’

  Robert looked at him, quizzical and humorous. His voice though had an edge to it. ‘Sure of it, are you?’

  ‘A pellet in a windpipe does not have your mark.’

  Robert gave it thought. ‘It has its merits though. It would stop his peep. And he was a squealer, for sure.’

  ‘What did you do to him?’

  ‘I will have ye ken I put no hand on him, other than to show him gently to the door.’