[Roger the Chapman 02] - The Plymouth Cloak (16 page)

I laid a hand on the steward's arm, hoping to draw him away from Silas Bywater's vicinity for some private discourse, but at that moment Edgar Warden entered the kitchen, two other men - the Colin and Ned named earlier by Alwyn close behind him. The swarthy features were taut with suspicion, as though he feared a trick was being played on him.

'What's this nonsense young Gerard's been telling us?' he demanded truculently. 'There's still a lot of work to be done on that boundary fence today. If the lad's been playing one of his tricks on us, I'll skin him alive!'

There was muttered agreement from his two companions, but Alwyn quickly held up his hand.

'I'm afraid what Gerard told you is true. Our guest, Master Underdown, was murdered last night, down by the river bank. I've sent for the Sheriff's officer from Launceston Castle. Until his arrival, there's nothing further we can do. Mistress Overy is laying out the body now in the great hall.' I had been observing Edgar Warden closely from the moment he came in, because, along with the unknown stranger who had stopped at the Trenowth inn, he was one of my chief suspects for Philip's murder. And if Philip had indeed had a tryst with the beautiful Isobel, and they had been surprised by her husband, there was no doubt in my mind about the latter's reaction. True, they would have been equally matched in size and weight, but they would not have been meeting in fair fight. My guess was that if Edgar were the murderer, he had somehow got wind of his wife's intended assignation and lain in wait. He had then confronted Philip, knife in hand, and struck in such blind fury that his aim had been untrue. Philip had fallen to his knees, but still alive, only to be bludgeoned to death by the cudgel he had dropped.

This version of the murder could also hold good for the unknown stranger, the hired assassin of the Woodvilles or the Tudors, and I had to keep an open mind. There was, in addition, a third possibility in the shape of Silas Bywater, watching us all with those bright, bird-like eyes, darting from one to the other and sharp with cunning. He had sworn to get his revenge on Philip; and although Philip was unquestionably more good to him alive than dead, Silas would not be the first man to kill in a fit of uncontrollable anger. There was also the possibility that Silas was the person Philip had gone to meet, although I did not really think so. He would have wasted neither time nor energy climbing out of the bedchamber window in order to tell Silas in secret what he had told him before in the presence of other people. Unless... Unless Philip had meant to kill Silas and so end his threats and importuning forever. My head began to swim as I suddenly found myself floundering in a sea of possibilities.

Edgar Warden sat down at the table, Colin and Ned following suit, and Alwyn pushed the bottle still containing wine towards them. He called to one of the kitchen-maids to bring three more mazers and himself poured out when they were brought.

'Here, drink this. Some of Sir Peveril's best, but in the circumstances, Mistress Overy and I thought he would not grudge it us.'

The bailiff emptied his cup in almost one gulp, then wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 'I can't say I'm sorry that Underwood's dead,' he said after a moment's silence, face and voice alike devoid of expression. 'What little I saw of him, yesterday, I had no cause to like. A man who had made many enemies in his time, I shouldn't wonder.'
 

'And that's God's truth!' Silas Bywater chimed in unexpectedly from his fireside comer. 'You know a rogue when you see one, friend.'

'Who's this?' Edgar wanted to know with a jerk of his head in Silas's direction.

'I was ship's captain for Philip Underdown in the old days, trading out of Plymouth. He had others in Bristol and London, when the Speedwell sailed from those ports, as it did from time to time. And if he treated them as shabbily as he did me and my crew, then he's enemies a-plenty.'

'But you're here and Master Underdown's dead,' I pointed out dulcetly, and for the first time saw a flicker of fear in those bright blue eyes. 'On your own admission, you followed us from Plymouth and were in the neighbourhood of Trenowth last night'.

Silas leaped unsteadily to his feet, his hands clenched at his sides. 'Here! What are you suggesting?' he demanded.

'I'm suggesting nothing, merely repeating what you told Mistress Overy and myself this morning. And you will no doubt have to account for your presence to the Sheriff's officer when he arrives.'

Silas Bywater sat down again slowly, a little white about the mouth. He seemed genuinely taken aback by the realization that he could be implicated in Philip's murder, a fact which might indicate his innocence of the crime, or merely his ability to disguise his true thoughts and emotions. I did not know him well enough to pass judgement, any more than I was able to guess at this juncture whether or not Edgar Warden's indifference was a bluff. I could only wait and see what time and the Sheriff's officer's inquiry revealed between them.

But it was the advent of the Sheriffs officer from Launceston that worried me. If Philip had, as I more than half suspected, been murdered by an agent of the Woodvilles or the Tudors, the Duke of Gloucester would undoubtedly wish the matter to remain a secret, particularly so if the Queen's relatives were involved. An official investigation into the cause of Philip's death could do much harm and might even imperil my own chances of getting the King's letter safely to Duke Francis in Brittany. If, however, I could present the Sheriff's officer on his arrival at Trenowth this evening with the identity of the murderer, or alternatively show him good cause why he should not proceed with an official inquiry into Philip's death, then I could still carry out the Duke's mission. I had failed his trust in me to protect my companion's life, but all was not yet lost, provided I could indeed achieve the well-nigh impossible task that I had set myself.

CHAPTER 13

By the time Janet Overy and Isobel came back to the kitchen from the great hall, having completed their task of laying out the body, the bailiff and his two helpers had finished their wine and returned to their work on Trenowth Manor's eastern fence. Alwyn had also fussily removed himself to make sure that Thomas Sawyer had indeed already left for Launceston Castle and was not indulging in a lengthy gossip with the groom. Silas was still huddled close to the fire, his leathery features deeply grooved with an expression of injured innocence every time I glanced in his direction.

I rose to my feet as the women entered and asked: 'Is all well? Can I see him?'

Mistress Overy restored the now empty bowl to its place on a shelf and indicated to Isobel Warden that, for the moment, she had no further use for her services. The girl was not a servant, and although she doubtless helped around the manor when requested, she was primarily the wife of Trenowth's chief retainer after Alwyn and Janet herself.

'Of course all's well,' the housekeeper answered, offended. 'I've laid out enough bodies before now to know what I'm about.' I thought guiltily of her husband and son and cursed my careless tongue. My contrition must have been visible, because she added on a softer note: 'But no, you can't see him. The door to the great hall has been locked on Alwyn's orders until the Sheriffs officer arrives tonight, and Alwyn has the key.' She eyed me closely. 'You look pale and drawn, lad. You'd best sit down again and I'll fetch you more wine. You're taking this hard, even though you didn't like the man. '

I saw Silas turn his head curiously at this, and hurriedly assured her that I needed nothing else to drink. 'But I'd like to speak to Master Steward if I may.'

Janet shook her head doubtfully. 'He's busy, and won't take kindly to being disturbed at present. Apart from his ordinary duties, he must despatch someone to London to take news of this unfortunate happening to Sir Peveril and his lady. And preparations must be made to receive the Sheriff’s officer when he comes. Which reminds me, a room must be got ready for him. The allocating of guests to rooms is my job, not Alwyn's.' She lifted the bunch of keys which hung from her belt and started to sift through them, her mind already intent on domestic duties to the exclusion of almost everything else. Her previous advice to the other servants, to continue with their normal round of chores, seemed to be working wonders in her own case. From her unruffled and practical behaviour it would have been difficult to detect that anything untowards had occurred that morning.

She made briskly for the kitchen door and I followed her outside, into the courtyard. The day had lost its early promise.

The sky had grown overcast again as more rain clouds swept in from the sea, piling up dark and menacing on the horizon.

The night's faint breeze had returned to disturb the tops of trees visible above the quadrangle of buildings. Autumn was settling over the land in all its variable moods, and October' s thin sunshine was no match for its sudden squalls and storms. With each passing day, sea-crossings would become more perilous and the movement of ships more unpredictable.

I must be ready and waiting in Plymouth when the
Falcon
eventually appeared, as I had no doubt it would, released on the King's orders from its watch on St Michael's Mount. I could afford no delay while the Sheriffs officer made his inquiries into Philip's death.

I caught Janet Overy by the arm as she was about to hurry away. She turned an irritated face towards me.

'Would you or Master Steward have any objections to my asking some questions of the servants on the Manor? And there are inquiries I wish to make at the village inn. Would either of you put a rub in my way?'

The housekeeper looked blank, then shrugged. 'It's all the same to me, and I can't think that Alwyn would try to prevent you. The sooner this business is cleared up, the better for us all. I think you'd be wiser to wait for the Sheriffs officer, but that's for you to decide. No doubt, after what you told me yesterday, you have suspicions of your own. Nevertheless, don't make any attempt to leave the manor lands. Anyone foolish enough to do that would fall foul of the law and be immediately suspected. The hue and cry would be set after him in no time.' She nodded her head in the direction of the kitchen door. 'You'd better tell that to your friend, Silas Bywater. He's twitchy since you warned him that he, too, might be thought to be the murderer. Now, I have work to do. I can't stand here talking all day.' She moved purposefully away from me towards the entrance to the great chamber with its staircase to the upper floor, but once again I ran after, and detained, her.

'There's something I've just remembered!' Her annoyance showed itself plainly this time and she rounded on me with a set and angry face. 'In Jesu's name, what now?'

I realized that for all her placid exterior, she was as upset and disturbed by the murder as the rest of us, and that it was only her sense of responsibility to the younger members of the household which made her appear indifferent to it. In her lady's absence, it was up to her to preserve calm and dignity in the face of unforeseen adversity.

'Forgive me,' I said, 'but there's something I must ask you.' I went on quickly, before she could throw off my restraining hand and leave me standing: 'Last night, when Master Underdown and I went to bed, I found that someone had placed a bunch of daisies on the chest beside our candlestick, and in the middle of the daisies was the stem of knotgrass which I threw away yesterday morning. It had been retrieved from the courtyard and brought to our room. Can you think who might have put them there?'

The anger drained from Janet's face and she frowned.

'Who would want to do a thing like that? The daisies on their own, I suppose, could have been placed there by one of the girls to brighten the room, but in that case, surely, they should have been put in water. And why the knotgrass? It makes no sense. What did Master Underdown have to say about it?'

'He didn't see them, and I decided to say nothing of them until the morning. I brushed them down between the side of the chest and the wall and then forgot them.'

There was nothing else I could tell her without giving away the events of the night and my prior knowledge of the murder. I disliked deceiving her, but felt that even her partiality for me could be severely tested if she knew the truth.

She said: 'Perhaps you'd better show me. I shall have to visit your chamber sometime this morning to see that all is tidy, so we may as well go now. Wait. I'll tell one of the girls to follow us in a few minutes to sweep the floor and make the beds.' She retraced her steps to the kitchen and disappeared briefly inside. When she returned, we made our way together through the great chamber and up the stairs to the room which I had shared with Philip.

Mistress Overy moved ahead of me to open the door, then let out a cry of distress. I peered over her shoulder. The room was in total disarray. Both mattresses and pillows had been ripped open with a knife, and straw and feathers were mixed with yesterday's rushes on the floor. The lid of the cedarwood chest had been left open, propped against the wall, when it had been discovered that there was nothing inside. The contents of my bundle and Philip's saddlebags were strewn across the room, and the window and its shutter swung wide on their hinges. With dismay, I remembered opening both earlier that morning in order to examine the cudgel more closely for any remaining traces of blood, and I had failed to close either before leaving the room. Yet again, I cursed myself silently for my foolishness, my only excuse being my inexperience in such devious matters.

'But how could anyone have got in?' Mistress Overy demanded.