Girl In A Red Tunic (18 page)

     Returning into the room, he found de Gifford answering some question of the Abbess’s about the Bell brothers: ‘... live in a hovel out on a track leading off the coast road,’ he was saying, ‘and neither had a wife, although for a time there was apparently some – er, a woman who lived with Teb and kept house for them both, although I understand that they’ve always lived in such squalor that her efforts can’t have amounted to much.’

     ‘They live by theft?’ she asked.

     De Gifford shrugged. ‘So it appears, although nothing has been proved against them.’

     ‘And you told me yourself that one of them is a murderer,’ she murmured.

     ‘Yes.’ He lowered his eyes. ‘Walter is a dangerous man.’

     There was a brief silence. We are all waiting for Saul, Josse thought, hoping against reason that he will come in with a big smile to tell us that Walter Bell has seen the error of his ways and has come to Hawkenlye to be shriven of his sins and is even now down in the Vale selflessly helping the monks tend the pilgrims  ...

     There was a gentle tap on the door and, in answer to the Abbess’s ‘Come in’, Saul entered.

     He bowed to the Abbess and to de Gifford. He was looking anxious and so, having glanced at the Abbess and received her nod of encouragement, Josse hastened to reassure him. ‘Saul, please excuse this abrupt summons but we need to ask you if anything came of the search for Walter Bell,’ he explained quickly.

     Saul was already shaking his head. ‘No, Sir Josse. We have asked everyone presently within the Abbey whether they know of him or have seen him here and all yesterday afternoon me and Gussie and four of the other brothers hunted through the nearer stretches of the forest. We found no sign that anyone had been camping out there, no sign at all.’ He gave a reminiscent shiver. ‘It’s too cold for skulking out of doors,’ he remarked, ‘leastways, not without a very good reason.’

     ‘Aye,’ Josse said. But Walter Bell, he thought, may
have
a very good reason for skulking if he’s hunting for his brother’s killer and does not want anyone to know it.

     De Gifford must have been thinking the same. ‘You are sure, Brother Saul?’ he asked. ‘You really do not think that anyone could have been hiding up there in the forest and spying on the comings and goings in the Abbey?’

     Saul paused as if giving the question careful consideration. Then he said, ‘I can’t say as that we’d necessarily have spotted a man who was intent on
hiding
, sir, because that would be the purpose of his hiding, wouldn’t it? To make sure anyone who came looking didn’t find him?’

     ‘Yes, Saul.’ De Gifford smiled faintly.

     ‘But I’m as certain as I can be that there weren’t anybody about, nor had been since the heavy frosts began,’ Saul continued, sounding more confident now, ‘because the ground’s set hard up there under the trees and we didn’t find any sign in the frozen grass that anyone had been by. Animal tracks aplenty – boar and fox and maybe a wolf – but you’d expect to find them.’

     ‘Thank you, Brother Saul.’ The Abbess gave him a warm smile, to which he responded. ‘That will be all.’

     Saul bowed to them and backed out of the door, closing it carefully behind him.

     ‘Walter Bell isn’t here,’ Josse said neutrally. ‘Nobody can find him.’

     ‘It appears that you are right on both counts,’ de Gifford agreed. He looked at the Abbess, then, as if he did not want to continue watching her, turned to Josse. ‘In which case it seems I have no option but to reveal to you both what else Arthur Fitzurse said.’

     ‘What?’ Josse and the Abbess spoke together and he wondered if she too felt the sudden frisson of alarm.

     De Gifford’s eyes were still on Josse. ‘He claims that there was trouble between the Bell brothers and a third party. The brothers were in dispute with this man, although Fitzurse says he does not know the details of the disagreement. He says that Walter Bell went to visit the man to gain some resolution that the Bells would find satisfactory, and he maintains that Walter has not been seen since. Teb Bell believed that the man whom his brother went to see came to Hawkenlye Abbey. Fitzurse says that Teb followed the man here and would have challenged him, only someone strung Teb up before he could do so.’

     ‘Do you believe him?’ Alarm had grown swiftly in him and Josse found as he spoke that his throat was dry.

     De Gifford sighed. ‘I do not know what I believe,’ he admitted. ‘Somebody murdered Teb Bell, that is certain, and Walter is still missing. Fitzurse is positive that Walter too is dead, killed by the same hand that slayed his brother.’ He paused, then added softly, ‘The hand of the man with whom the brothers were in dispute.’

     ‘And you are sure that man is here?’ To Josse’s admiration, the Abbess sounded quite calm.

     Now de Gifford faced her, making himself meet her eyes. ‘Yes, my lady. The man is your son.’

Chapter 10

She thought for a moment that she was going to faint.

     Her imagination escaped from her control and she saw them hunting him down, capturing him, taking him and imprisoning him in some dark dungeon; putting him on trial, finding him
guilty
and leading him out to be hanged.

     She saw his face.

   
Stop
! she commanded herself. Stop this now!

     She took a breath, then another. Fighting for calm, to replace the panicked images with logic and good sense, one thing refused to be banished from her mind: she knew, deep in the intuitive part of herself, that Leofgar was guilty.

     Not of murder! Oh, no, not of cold-blooded, vicious murder! Please God that her instincts were right over that, for she just could not see her son as capable of such an act. But he had done something very serious and all this that had happened afterwards was because of it.

     But she must not speak any of that to Gervase de Gifford  ...

     Raising her eyes, she met his interested gaze; out of the corner of her eye she saw Josse make a move to come to her side and, with an almost imperceptible shake of her head, she stopped him.

     ‘My son is no longer here,’ she said quietly. ‘He left us two nights ago. He is not at home either; Sir Josse and I went to look for him. It is from there – the house is called the Old Manor and is situated beneath the North Downs – that we have just returned.’

     De Gifford watched her closely. ‘Forgive me for asking, my lady, but was his nocturnal departure anticipated?’

     ‘Of course not,’ she said briskly. ‘Something must have happened to make him flee without telling anyone.’

     ‘And this flight occurred the night following the discovery of Teb Bell’s body?’

     ‘Yes.’

     There was a pause. Then de Gifford said, ‘There is no need for me to draw the obvious conclusion that suggests itself.’

     ‘But surely we should mistrust it purely
because
it is the obvious conclusion?’ Josse burst out. ‘If someone wanted to throw suspicion on Leofgar, what better way than to commit a murder and then come along afterwards and say, oh, Leofgar Warin had an argument with that man and I bet you a barrel of ale that it was Leofgar’s hand that killed him!’ To make quite sure that neither de Gifford nor Helewise had missed the point, he added, ‘We have only this Arthur Fitzurse’s word for all this!’

     Looking at him, fighting so valiantly for her and her son, Helewise felt a rush of love for him. But de Gifford was speaking; she made herself listen.

     ‘That is true, Josse,’ he said, ‘and I have told Fitzurse that he must either support his accusations or else withdraw them. He says he will find evidence to support his theory and he promises to discover what it was that the Bell brothers argued with Leofgar about. He also claims that he can prove that Walter Bell went to the Old Manor.’ De Gifford glanced quickly at Helewise and then, turning back to Josse, said, ‘He wants me to go there with him.’

     Helewise bit back her protest. I cannot prevent this, she thought; this man Fitzurse has every right to search for his missing friend and if indeed Walter Bell
did
go to the Old Manor, there will not necessarily be any proof of that.

     Every instinct in her demanded that she accompany the sheriff to Leofgar’s manor. But it was possible – in her case absolutely necessary – to deny her instincts. She had just absented herself from Hawkenlye for a day and a night and there was no justification for doing so again. Especially when she had a loyal friend who could go in her place.

     Turning to Josse, she said, ‘Sir Josse, would you be prepared to ride out with the sheriff? After all, you know the way to the Old Manor, having just come from there.’

     His eyes met hers. She tried to put her pleading into her expression –
Josse, please do this for me! I need someone to protect Leofgar’s interests and there is nobody I trust more than you!
– and straight away he said, ‘Aye, my lady. I would be happy to go, if Gervase is agreeable.’

     ‘I am,’ de Gifford said. ‘And right pleased to have your company, Josse.’

They set out at once. A horseman was waiting for them at the top of Castle Hill and as they drew level with him, de Gifford introduced him to Josse as one of his men. ‘Go and find Arthur Fitzurse, Matt,’ de Gifford ordered him, ‘and tell him to meet Sir Josse and me at the Old Manor.’

     Matt gave a curt nod then turned his horse and cantered off down the track. De Gifford went as if to follow him but Josse said, ‘We can go by a route that does not pass through Tonbridge, if you wish; it is the way that the Abbess took me and, as she said, it avoids the attention of the curious.’

     De Gifford smiled. ‘I do not mind that sort of attention, but I am happy to be shown another way. Lead on!’

     Josse was relieved that the sheriff had been so amenable. His reason for suggesting that they take the alternative route was to avoid any chance of Arthur Fitzurse coming to join them on the ride to the Old Manor; he very much wanted the chance to talk to de Gifford alone. Recalling with only a little effort the tracks along which the Abbess had led him, he wondered how to go about raising the matter he wanted to discuss and concluded that, given de Gifford’s intelligence and perception, the direct approach was probably best.

     So, soon after they had crossed the river, he turned in the saddle and said, ‘This tale that Fitzurse has spun for you seems unlikely to me, Gervase. From all that you have said, it sounds as if the man is of a very different quality from the Bell brothers, and yet he claims to know them well enough to be aware of this hypothetical quarrel they have with Leofgar Warin. You have told us that the Bells are villains and that Walter is a killer, and should that not tell us something about Fitzurse? If a man associates with dishonest men, is not his own honesty open to question?’

     De Gifford had moved up to ride beside him. ‘Yes, Josse, I have been thinking much the same thing,’ he agreed. ‘Indeed, there can be no question about the nature of the Bell brothers. Although I know I should not express pleasure at any man’s death, I have to confess that I felt no grief upon seeing Teb Bell lying dead in the Abbey infirmary, and I cannot entirely suppress the hope that his brother stays missing and never turns up again to cause trouble and pain to innocent people.’

     ‘Then—’

     But de Gifford held up a hand. ‘Josse, I know what you would say and in my heart I agree: why bother to try to find out what has happened to Walter Bell? But his brother has been murdered and now Fitzurse makes this accusation that implicates Leofgar. For all that Leofgar is the Abbess Helewise’s son, I cannot do other than investigate to the best of my ability.’

     Josse let out a gusty sigh. ‘Aye, Gervase. I know that.’ He grinned grimly. ‘It was worth a try.’

     De Gifford returned his smile. Then, kicking his horse to a canter, said, ‘Come on. Best to get this over with.’

They reached the Old Manor in advance of Fitzurse. Wilfrid came out into the courtyard to greet them and Josse introduced de Gifford and was on the point of explaining why they were there when the sheriff interrupted.

     ‘I must ask you, Wilfrid, whether you recall a visit from a stranger, round about the beginning of the month?’