The Outlaws of Ennor: (Knights Templar 16) (55 page)

‘Yes.’

‘Then perhaps you’d have the goodness to tell me?’ Cryspyn asked, his voice rising with his impatience.

Baldwin said nothing, but held Cryspyn’s gaze with a serious intensity.

The Prior tutted. ‘Come, now! Won’t you tell me?’

‘I had thought you would like to say. After all, Benefit of Clergy protects a man in Holy Orders.’

‘Benefit of …’ Cryspyn’s face paled. ‘My God! You
don’t
mean … William?’

Baldwin
snapped irritably, ‘No, I do not! I mean
you
!’

‘Me?’ Cryspyn’s face fell. His eyes widened, his mouth gaped, and then he hiccupped. A hand flew to his mouth, and his face drew back into its normal expression of pain. ‘Is this a joke?’

‘I think you should have the goodness to confess, Prior. You were seen there.’

‘Sir Baldwin, you are the unsuspecting victim of a joke, surely a joke in bad taste.’

‘You deny killing the man?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘You were not there on the island?’

‘No. I wasn’t!’

Baldwin was confused, but then he thought he had a glimmering of understanding. Of course! The woman Mariota was protecting someone else. She had only mentioned Cryspyn to give herself time to warn him! ‘Prior, please accept my apologies.’

‘I suppose I must accept them, but only as a matter of politeness to a guest,’ he said pointedly as he thrust past Baldwin and stalked out.

Baldwin roused Simon from his partially drunken reverie. ‘Come with me. We need to talk.’

‘I think it’s better that we find a place to sleep.’

‘Not yet, old friend.’ Baldwin had Simon’s arm in a firm grip, and he manoeuvred him through the door and out, across the courtyard and through the gate. ‘I have been speaking to a woman who stated that she saw Cryspyn stabbing Robert. Since Cryspyn has denied the murder, this means that one of them is lying. If she is lying: why? She has convicted Cryspyn for no reason.’

‘She has reasons,’ Simon said. He closed his eyes and leaned back. ‘Perhaps it’s just that she dislikes him and made it up.’

‘She knew that I’d have to confront him. That means that she knew her lie would be found out, and probably quickly. Perhaps she meant to run straight to the guilty man and warn him.’

‘Who?’

‘There are only two men whom she would try to protect. She
would not wish to protect any of the men from Ennor, I am sure of that. No, I think that it comes down to two: either David or William.’

‘Why David?’

‘Because he is of her tribe. This place is astonishingly tribal. David is of her family, and more than that, he is the leader. Thus she would be willing to serve him by lying to us. That, to me, makes much sense.’

‘I see. What of William?’

‘There is a bond between him and the people of the islands. He loves them, and I think that they reciprocate that love. Luke, I think, he detested because of the mess he made of the church of St Elidius. William was enormously proud of that little church, and Luke ruined it for him. He murdered Robert, I suppose, because he was angry about the gather-reeve’s depredations – although any man could have seen it was Thomas, not the gather-reeve who was responsible. Why William should have suddenly killed Robert now, I do not understand.’

‘I think I know that, at least,’ Simon said. ‘I heard from Ranulph on the ship coming here that the story of Robert’s murder in a tavern had not been broadcast for some years. Perhaps it was common knowledge before William went to Ennor, and he never heard it before, or at least, he never heard who the man was whom Robert was supposed to have murdered. And then, recently, while he was living in St Mary’s, suddenly he heard the full story.’

‘What story?’ Baldwin asked.

‘William is called “William of Carkill”. The man Robert murdered was called “Jack of Carkill”, and William once told me his brother had run off to sea. When he saw me on my first day, he called me “Jan”.’

‘Another name for Jack,’ Baldwin breathed.

‘Yes. Jan is a nickname. I think he heard about Robert’s murder of his brother, and it made him lose his mind. He stabbed his brother’s murderer.’

‘Perhaps. Yet what of David? He has never made a secret of his hatred of Robert, nor his loathing for men who tried to prise apart
Tedia’s legs. I think he has a particular detestation for any foreign man who attempts to win the affection of a local woman.’

Simon opened an eye. ‘That was said with feeling.’

‘No, no. I was just thinking.’

‘So if this woman would have protected either, which do you think it was?’

‘She told us of Cryspyn, knowing that he wouldn’t suffer – even if we were to accuse him, we could do little. He is a man of the Church, so he’s safe.’

‘The same goes for William,’ Simon yawned.

‘But not for David,’ Baldwin said. ‘She never mentioned David. Perhaps she wanted to make sure that he was secure even from investigation?’

Simon grunted. ‘You can let go of my arm now, if you want,’ he said. ‘Just point me in the right direction.’

‘I want to speak to David again, and William.’

‘William said he was going to the church.’

Baldwin glanced back at the great building behind them. ‘Come on, then.’

The door thundered when they threw it open and strode in, Baldwin tall and imperious, Simon more subdued.

For William, kneeling at the altar, their entrance was like a clap of thunder. He gave them a bad-tempered look before returning to his prayers and closing his eyes. It was hard, trying to remain forgiving, but he was determined. He had said many prayers for Robert already, since learning of his murder. Now he wanted to say some more.

But the presence of the two men was distracting. He found his mind wandering. It was infuriating that they should come in here and disrupt his prayers. Muttering a hasty
Pater Noster
, he stood, made the sign of the cross, and walked past them to the entrance, where he waited, fuming.

‘What was the meaning of that? It was an intrusion into a man’s communion with God, you irreverent arseholes!’

Baldwin was in no mood for his temper. ‘Mariota told us about
you. She saw you at the beach. She said you were there, that you saw the body and saw the murderer.’

‘She’s wrong,’ William said, and made as though to move off.

Simon blocked his path with an apologetic, ‘Sorry, William.’

‘She told me it was someone else killed Robert,’ Baldwin pressed on, ‘but I don’t believe her. I think she was trying to protect someone. Someone like you.’

‘You think I killed him?’ The priest smiled thinly. ‘Just as I’d have liked to kill Luke for his betrayal of the trust put in him? He took my little chapel and turned it into a midden. A disgrace for St Elidius – Luke dishonoured him – so I executed them both, is that what you think?’

‘What of Robert?’

‘I was there, yes. I saw his body. I didn’t see her, though.’

‘Did you kill him?’

‘Why should I?’ He looked up and met Baldwin’s eye.

‘Because he killed your brother Jan,’ Baldwin said.

William sighed. ‘I knew of Robert as an evil man when I lived on St Elidius, and then, when I moved to St Mary’s, I met him a few times, and I realised that Thomas’s story about him being a cheerful murderer was nonsense. He was a weak-minded fool who had made some mistakes and was paying for them with his exile. He may have killed, but not in anger or from some bloodlust. No, he killed to protect himself or another. Then, when I heard of his victim, I realised that I hated him for ending Jan’s life, but I knew what sort of a man Jan was. He was an unholy terror, brutal and cruel. If he had found a good woman who could have held him in check … but no. Some men cannot even be held back by women. No, Robert was almost certainly forced to kill him. You see, I cannot blame a man for self-defence.’

Baldwin nodded. ‘Why should I believe you? Everyone appears to have had an opportunity to have killed Robert, but you definitely had the most pressing urges.’

‘You think so? Do you really think that a man who has forsaken God could deserve the same loyalty as a member of a community like this? Sir Baldwin, these islands are unique! They are home to a
race of honourable, decent people who are fleeced by those devils at Ennor. They deserve their protection. A man like my brother? I fear not.’ He looked up with a sudden grin. ‘I suppose you now think I’m guilty because I wanted to protect the folk here from the depredations of a greedy gather-reeve!’

‘No, but perhaps David did,’ Baldwin said.

‘I doubt it. He hated Robert as the symbol of Ennor’s power, but he knew well enough that if he cut off the head of that gather-reeve, there would soon be another. Besides, I never saw him on Ennor that day. Who said they did?’

‘No one. Mariota said it was another, but he denies it.’

William looked away. ‘I cannot help you more.’

‘Did you see the killer?’ Baldwin said.

William burst out, ‘What good will it do if you find the man? What good will it do anyone? Can you bring either of them back to life? No. Can you heal the damage which they have done here? No. So leave matters as they stand. Why not let people believe it was the pirates who killed them? That would be believable, wouldn’t it? Let the people blame
them.
’

‘I cannot do that. Whoever …’ Baldwin began, but then he heard the great bell tolling mournfully and realised his error.

When they all arrived in the Prior’s hall, the doorway was filled with anxious, silent monks, all of whom stared inside at the grim sight. The room was still warm from their meal, and the body hanging by the neck was vertical, with only a slight tilt to the head, as though the Prior had stood on the chair to set something on the beam, and was welcoming them from that curious position. He had a slight smile on his face, although the eyes bulged and the flesh was suffused with blood. The smell of death was cloying.

Pushing past the monks, the three entered. He had used his own rope belt, Baldwin saw. Cryspyn had looped it over the beam, thrust his head through it, and used a stick to twist it tight, garrotte-style. Baldwin had seen many corpses which had been hanged, but only a few had remained standing on a chair like this. Most kicked the chair away, hoping for a swift, assured death. Cryspyn cared little for
that. He had stood on the chair to reach the beam, and killed himself while he stood there, his legs giving way as the life left his body and, so Baldwin hoped, making the death more swift.

‘I should have trusted to my own intuition. I believed Mariota when she told me,’ he said. ‘I could have saved him this.’

‘He was an honourable man,’ William said softly, and Baldwin saw that there were tears in his eyes. ‘He was always good to me. I think he knew how hard it was to live with guilt. He had been guilty of a crime himself.’

‘Yes. He told me.’

‘And that guilt ate at him. There was not a single day he didn’t suffer.’

‘Simon, is there a note on his table?’ Baldwin asked. He knew his friend preferred to avoid intimate encounters with death. While Simon went and scanned the desktop, Baldwin pulled up a stool and stood on it, trying to untie the rope while William supported the body from below. The rope was too tightly bound, held with Cryspyn’s full weight, so Baldwin took out his knife and cut Cryspyn’s body down. William took the full weight of the sagging figure, and two monks hurried forward to help him lower their dead master to the floor.

‘Nothing here,’ Simon called. ‘Strange, I would have hoped he would have left us some clue as to why he did this.’

‘So would I,’ Baldwin said. ‘But sometimes a man’s heart is too full and bitter. He must have guessed that we’d return to charge him with the murders, and he wished to have nothing to do with the shame that would bring to him and his priory.’

‘Perhaps,’ William said. ‘Yet I would have hoped he would have tried to explain. It will make his death more –
incomprehensible
– and that will lead to rumours and foolish speculation.’

Simon had rejoined them. ‘I would have expected a note. Perhaps he was in too much of a hurry.’

‘He had little time,’ a monk offered. Baldwin recognised the man as the new gatekeeper.

Simon had lifted the rope and was staring at it with a strange expression. ‘Baldwin, look at this.’

Baldwin took the rope and studied it. ‘What of it?’

‘The
knots are so precise. Was Cryspyn ever a sailor?’

William said, ‘No,’ as the gatekeeper continued: ‘Yes, he had little time after David left him.’

‘When was David here?’ Baldwin demanded.

‘He came just before you,’ the gatekeeper stammered, shocked by Baldwin’s sudden ferocity. ‘He was there until after you ran out to find William here.’

Simon and Baldwin exchanged a horrified look.

‘He was there in the hall when we spoke,’ Simon said. ‘He heard you accuse …’

‘And decided that the best course for his own defence was the death by suicide of the Prior,’ Baldwin finished for him. ‘The man’s a devil!’

Brosia was at her cottage shaking out her bedding when they arrived. She cocked an eye at them, hastily bundling it up and thrusting it in through her doorway. ‘Good day! Can I offer you—’