Falconer's Trial (16 page)

‘Please go on. If it affects the matter of Master Falconer’s trial and your wife’s unfortunate death, then I must hear you out.’

Sir Humphrey clasped his hands as if in prayer and put them to his lips. After a brief moment of silence, he began the most extraordinary tale. It was all to do with a Templar and a plot to murder King Henry’s family.

Bullock’s eyes widened and he held up his hand to stop Thomas Symon in full flow.

‘Wait just a moment. Are you seriously suggesting that Ann Segrim’s death has to do with a treasonable act by this… Templar?’

Thomas nodded eagerly.

‘Just hear me out and you will be convinced. It apparently all began when Segrim fell in with a Templar on the crossing to France last year.’

Thomas recounted Segrim’s tale as he had been told it. How the Templar, a tall, well-built man with black hair and a full beard, had borne the choppy crossing without turning a hair. His green eyes were for ever on the horizon and the approaching coastline. Segrim had engaged him in conversation, which had been mostly one-sided, as the man hardly spoke. He didn’t at that stage give away even his name. After listening to Segrim’s prattle, he had reluctantly agreed to share the costs of his journey with him. And all had been well until they reached Viterbo. When Sir Humphrey had heard that Henry, son of Richard King of Germany, and nephew to the King of England, was also in Viterbo, he was determined to see the man. He always had an eye for possible royal contacts and advancement. He suggested to the Templar that they attend the service at the Church of San Silvestro on the morrow of St Gregory, as Henry would be there. The Templar was unimpressed and said he did not wish to be there, suggesting Sir Humphrey would do well to stay away too. Segrim chose otherwise and lived to wish he hadn’t.

On the day, Sir Humphrey found himself at the back of a packed church, as it turned out that many noblemen were also seeking to speak to Henry, who was on his way home from Africa. All Segrim got to see was the back of a distant figure, kneeling before the altar. Then all hell broke loose. A group of armed men stormed up the aisle, swords in hand. They hacked Henry, son of Richard, to pieces. Three of the men were later identified as Simon and Guy de Montfort and Count Rosso, father-in-law to Guy. It was assumed then that the deed was revenge for the death of the de Monforts’ relative, Simon de Montfort, at the battle of Evesham, seven years before. But as the murderers left the church, running out the way they had come, one of them turned to briefly stare at Sir Humphrey. A pair of cold, green eyes shone from behind the full-face helm. Segrim was convinced it was the Templar. But when he next saw the man, nothing was said. Sir Humphrey had told Thomas Symon he was too scared.

‘He told me they journeyed on together, but that he didn’t join the Templar when the man left for Outremer from Cyprus. Segrim expected almost daily to hear of the death of Prince Edward, who was in Acre at the time. But it never happened. The next time he saw the Templar was back in Famagusta in late August. The news had just arrived of the death of Edward’s eldest son, John, back in England. The Templar was one of a group of men-at-arms who seemed to be toasting the news, rather than lamenting it. That was when Segrim decided abruptly to return to England without ever having reached the Holy Lands.’

Bullock’s face was clouded, as he tried to comprehend what Thomas was telling them.

‘Are you telling us that Segrim has supposed a grand conspiracy, based on the possible involvement of this Templar in a revenge killing.’

‘And his celebration of another death in the king’s family.’

Bullock was transfixed, not sure what to believe. Saphira, however, pointed out the problem with Thomas’s thesis.

‘Even so. There is no proof here of any connection to Ann Segrim’s murder. Merely a fantasy existing only in Sir Humphrey’s mind.’

‘Would it convince you, if I told you that, on the return journey, the Templar pursued Sir Humphrey by sea and land for months on end, until Segrim thought he had eluded him at Honfleur. Then, after crossing the Channel, Sir Humphrey next saw the Templar in Berkhamsted the very day Richard, King of Germany, died. And the Templar saw
him
. That is why he went into hiding in Oxford town before daring to return home. And why I think Ann was murdered by the Templar because he was afraid she had been told of the conspiracy by her husband.’

Bullock nodded as if finally convinced, so it was left to Saphira to speak again.

‘How can we prove any of this? It makes a good tale but it doesn’t save William.’

Thomas looked at the constable.

‘Sir, Master Falconer told me you were once a Templar sergeant. Do you know anyone you can speak to who could help us?’

Bullock had a grim look about him, but he knew he was their only lifeline at the moment. He pulled himself up out of his chair and began to pace the room.

‘I may be able to help. What was the name of this Templar? Did Segrim find it out?’

‘Eventually, yes. He says the man’s name is Odo de Reppes.’

‘Then, after I have delivered William to St Mildred’s Church today, I will go to the Temple at Cowley. There is a man there who owes Falconer a debt.’

‘Good. Then I will go now to Aristotle’s Hall and see if there are any clues there to this sorry business.’

As Thomas rose to leave, Bullock took his arm.

‘I have already been to William’s solar and looked around.’

Thomas frowned, thinking the constable had not seemed able to trust him with the task. But Bullock reassured him it was just a misunderstanding.

‘I thought you were going to do it yesterday, but when you didn’t come back to me with your findings, I decided to do it myself. I had no other clues to follow.’ He patted Thomas’s shoulder reassuringly. ‘It was good that you followed up the possibilities you did. You found out far more than I did at Aristotle’s.’

‘What did you find?’

Bullock cast a furtive glance at Saphira.

‘Nothing at all, I’m afraid.’

‘And you, Saphira? Did you uncover any truths?’

Thomas smiled at Saphira, unaware of the constable’s coldness towards their companion. He felt he had started them off on a new track which would lead eventually to Falconer’s vindication. But he was still curious to find out if Saphira knew anything that would be of use. She told him about Covele, the talisman seller, being at Botley, and his purchase of arsenic.

‘He may have resented both William’s and my actions some months ago, when we thought he might have been involved in a murder. But we will need more facts before we can decide if this leads anywhere. And Covele has disappeared. I was setting down what I know for Peter when you arrived.’

She pointed at the parchment on the table and saw that Thomas barely gave it a glance. He was too interested in his own discovery to think about any other possibility. But Saphira knew that at this stage they should cast their net wide and not rely on one theory. Falconer’s own methods had taught her that. She resolved to pursue her own enquiry, even if the two men were seduced by what Thomas had uncovered. She got up from the table to leave, with the first excuse that came into her head.

‘I must go and make some purchases in the market or my maid will have nothing to prepare for dinner.’

Neither man saw that she intended the words ironically. They merely smiled and allowed her to go about her womanly duties. She smiled ruefully, having fallen into the trap of playing the homely wife. Well, she would show them, as she had shown Falconer once before when she was doubted.

After she had left, Bullock sighed with relief. Then he turned to Thomas, not certain how to proceed. He picked up the half-completed statement that Saphira had drafted and gave it to Thomas Symon.

‘Tell me what you think of this.’

Thomas looked scornfully at the document.

‘You don’t think this Covele has any significance, do you? The Templar is…’

‘No, no. Not what she has written. Just look at the script and compare it with this.’

He gave Thomas the scrap of parchment from Falconer’s room. Puzzled, Thomas took it from Bullock’s hand and compared the writing.

‘It looks the same. And this one is signed with an S. It has to be written by Saphira. What does she mean – she knows how to poison someone?’

‘Isn’t it obvious? It means just what it says. And look at the first two words. “Take care”. The very words Falconer used to you. He said, “Take care of Saphira.” We both thought he meant comfort her and look after her. What if he meant “Beware of Saphira”?’

Thomas was aghast and stared at Bullock in astonishment.

‘You don’t think
she
killed Ann Segrim?’

Bullock held his gaze.

‘I don’t know. But while we pursue your Templar, let us not ignore the possible snake in our midst. Just in case. Jealousy is a powerful force.’

FIFTEEN

A
t the start of a new morning, Falconer sat alone on his hard wooden seat, apparently not at all discomfited by the evidence against him so far. Close by him sat Alexander Eddington who, after giving witness the previous day, had insisted on being present as a representative of the murder victim. Bullock had excused himself from the proceedings and Thomas Bek assumed perhaps he had either given up on his friend, or was dashing around seeking fresh evidence. The chancellor didn’t care one way or the other. Until last night he had harboured doubts himself about the strength of the case against Falconer. If the regent master was a fornicator and had lain with Ann Segrim, why had he then killed her? It was enough to presage a sleepless night for Bek. Then someone had approached him with new information – a man of irreproachable probity, even though he might have had personal reasons for attacking Falconer. Bek waited for the Black Congregation to settle, then called his next witness.

‘I call before this court Regent Master Ralph Cornish.’

A murmur of curiosity rippled through the church, mixed with a not inconsiderable strain of repressed laughter. Many still recalled how Falconer’s juvenile prank at Inception had embarrassed the man who now rose to give evidence before them. A little red in the face, but with a determined look, Ralph Cornish strode to his place in front of the chancellor. Taking a deep breath, he began.

‘After yesterday’s evidence many of you may have already made up your mind about William Falconer. I know I have. But some may still harbour doubts about his motive for killing Ann Segrim. I will tell you why I am convinced of his guilt. I am in possession of information that has not yet been revealed, but will sway the minds of those doubters.’

There was tension in the air, and even Falconer himself leaned forward to hear Ralph Cornish’s revelation. For a while longer, the truculent master played the moment.

‘You are asking yourselves, why did he kill a woman who willingly allowed herself to be used by him? Their dalliance was carried out over a long period of time. Why now did he kill her?’ Once again he paused, milking the moment. ‘I can tell you… It was because he had found another woman to fornicate with. And moreover she is a Jew.’

Ralph stared accusingly at Falconer, inordinately pleased to see his enemy’s face turn white with shock. His triumph was that he had known something Falconer thought a secret, and was able to use it against him so devastatingly. Over the hubbub of noise in the normally sepulchral church, he developed his theme.

As he spoke, Alexander Eddington listened with interest for the first time during these proceedings. He had found the trial unexpectedly dull until this moment. Now, he had a juicy morsel of information to use to his advantage. He had insisted on being present in case any evidence was brought forward that implied he was involved in his sister-in-law’s death. The constable – Bullock – had intimated as such when he had been examining Ann’s dead body. And God knows what his half-brother had said to that young clerk yesterday. He had seen from his window as Humphrey had grabbed the youth by the arm and dragged him into the house. He had heard the slamming of his half-brother’s solar door and the dropping of the bolt. He had been powerless to intervene. And if the clerk had been talking to Margery about her trip to the spicer’s shop for Ann’s remedy, then he would be in trouble. But now he could divert attention from himself and on to this Jew. Ralph was concluding his vitriolic attack.

‘Yes, not content with besmirching the reputation of the wife of a local nobleman and breaking his holy vows of celibacy, he wallowed in filth with a Jew.’

Suddenly, Cornish saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He felt his head explode in stars, as if a hammer blow had come from nowhere and hit his left ear. He fell to the ground, his head ringing and his senses stunned. He thought maybe another firecracker had exploded next to him. It hadn’t. Unrestrained by any gaoler, Falconer had angrily surged from his seat and landed a powerful blow on the side of Ralph Cornish’s head. If Roger Plumpton had not leapt from his chair beside the chancellor and held Falconer back, Cornish would have suffered further blows. The Black Congregation descended into chaos, and in the cries of outrage Bek was left unheard calling for the trial to be adjourned for the day.

When the worried Saphira returned to her house on Fish Street, she found her maid kneeling on the floor in the kitchen poking at a crack in the stonework of the wall.

‘What are you doing, Rebekkah?’

The girl was startled and jumped to her feet.

‘Oh, you surprised me, mistress. I didn’t expect you back so soon. It’s just that I thought I heard a scraping sound from somewhere down there. Like rats.’ She shuddered. ‘And there have been scraps of food missing from the larder recently, too.’

Now it was Saphira’s turn to shudder. Rats were an everyday part of life, but she hated the thought of them in her larder.

‘We must lay some poison, Rebekkah.’

‘Yes, mistress.’

‘I shall see to that. Now, I do not need you for the rest of the day, as I will be out. I won’t be having dinner, either, so there’s no need to return until tomorrow morning.’

The girl beamed with pleasure, thanked her mistress and positively skipped out of the house. In truth, Saphira did not know what she would be doing today. But whatever it was she did, she preferred not to have her maid hanging around. Rebekkah was a little busybody, who revelled in knowing more than was good for her. With her out of the way, Saphira knew she should hunt for Covele, but was uncertain where to begin. Despite Thomas’s conviction that Ann’s death was related somehow to the Templar persecuting her husband, and Peter Bullock’s determination to assist in that line of enquiry, she was mindful that William often advocated against having all your eggs in one basket. His principle of two small truths, taken together, often revealing a greater one, meant digging out many little facts, even ones which often seemed unrelated. No, she would continue to follow up on Covele, and saw that she had two routes to follow. She had already decided that Robert Bodin could tell her more about the talisman seller’s purchase of arsenic. She should speak to him more. And now her dismissal of Rebekkah had inadvertently given her another course to follow. Servants were a good source of gossip. Ann’s own maid, Margery, probably knew more than she was admitting to about the events surrounding her mistress’s death. Margery might even have seen Covele at Botley. She reckoned she would have a busy day ahead of her.