The Butchers Funeral: A Medieval Murder (13 page)

'Not the Church, but to an alms house and a monastery.'  Law's correction was half-hearted and he knew it.

'Doesn't matter, it's all the same thing anyhow.  We'll never get anyone to believe what really happened.  What do you suppose they'd do to us?'  Judd asked the question, but did not expect his friend to answer, yet Judd still insisted on spelling it out, 'They'd hang us instead for Perry's murder.'

'But it's not right saving our own skins like this.'  Law protested, 'And they're trying to pin the death of Butcher on him as well because of you and your tales.'

'What do you mean tales?'  There was a querulous note in Judd's voice.

'You know what I mean, the devil-worship stuff.  I thought you didn't believe in that kind of thing.'

'I don't.'  Judd replied, 'But lots of the people in that hall did, as did the two I took with me to find Perry.  If the surgeon hadn't been there, I'd have just have claimed Perry's death was caused by robbers, but as Alvin was there, well, most people seem to think any kind of medicine is magic, so it wasn't hard to pull off.'

'But what about your soul?  Sending an innocent man to his death?'  Law was shocked by the way his friend dismissed their responsibility to an innocent man.

'Soul?  We're damned anyway aren't we.'  From the look on Judd's face, he had considered some of the consequences, 'Unless you can afford for the church to say a mass and pay for the saying of prayers to help you through purgatory, we'll be going nowhere good, nowhere soon.  Besides, you see what the clergy, monks and nuns get away with.  If God is prepared to forgive them, then I'm sure He'll have no trouble with us.'

'True, the Church courts are far too lenient with their own people.'  Law agreed, 'I heard they'd even set up stews in London prostituting nuns.'

'So what's the problem with what we've done then?'  Judd asked.

'Still doesn't make it right.  What about the accusations about Col Butcher?  Why did you throw that in as well?’

'So many people could have killed Col.  Maybe it was just his time, but you know the rumours as well as me.  Maybe it was even Perry who killed him.'  Judd paused as a thought formed through the alcoholic buzz in his mind, 'You know, if Perry killed Butcher, we're divine judgement or something.'  He lifted his ale in a mock toast, 'The Hand of God!', before dropping his voice again, 'Surely it would be acceptable to kill a murderer, at least in the eyes of God.  You thought of that Law?'  Law shook his head just before Judd went back to his original thought, 'People want an answer for the death of Butcher, and this gives them one, they want to believe.  Alvin's a travelling tradesman, above all else, his reputation is only good until he is accused of a crime.  People will happily blame an outsider like him so they can have a nice neat and tidy answer.  Now if they believe Alvin could have killed the butcher, then they'll believe he killed the carniter, and vice versa.'

'Judd, I don't know where you're getting all this from, but it still makes little sense to me.'  Law said, hoping that it was true, because if it was not, the logic did not sit well with him.

'That'll be the alcohol.  Trust me my friend, there's nothing to worry about.  Everything will be decided by the end of tomorrow.'  Judd looked at the unconvinced and slightly drunken face opposite him, 'Let's have another drink.  That'll help.'

The trial passed quickly the next day.  The main highlight was the evidence given by Dionisia Butcher.  She had not been expecting to be called as part of the trial of the surgeon, but had been present the day before, supporting the man that some suspected had been one of her lovers.  She had taken the witness stand in her finest clothing, modestly dressed, but clearly displaying her wealth, as was her wont.  In the short time that she had been a widow on her own, she had gone from strength to strength.  Hiring more help to run the butcher's shop, she had become even more involved in the business, ruthlessly undercutting her competition while finding ways to apply all the tricks that her deceased husband had taught her.  Not content with just the small business of the marketplace, it was rumoured that she had obtained a contract to provide her famous pies to the city watch.

Yet, the evidence provided by Dye Butcher was inconclusive in terms of usefulness for proving the cause of death of her husband.  She had noticed he was ill during the night.  When she had tried to help her husband, he had run out of the building, returning much later with the help of a muckraker.  She had then summoned the surgeon to help her, with him doing all that he could, returning to his lodgings when he was no longer able to do any more.  Col had died later that morning.

Throughout her testimony, the hall listened with bated breath, waiting for any sign of scandal.  They hoped that Dionisia would give some evidence of the many affairs they suspected her of.  Nevertheless, there was a degree of sympathy for her loss, while her youth, wealth and beauty made her a very eligible proposition for the men of the city, especially those widowed with children and not therefore not dependent on her unproven fertility to continue their line.  Dionisia had been notably careful to not point the finger at the surgeon.  Her husband had appeared drunk, hallucinating and out of sorts.  There had been gasps when she had mentioned that Col had been seeing things, possibly spirits, with some of those present taking this as evidence that devilish magic had been practiced, possibly by the surgeon.  However, Dionisia was calm and clear throughout her time giving evidence, very little of which could be interpreted as evidence of guilt, either by herself or the surgeon.

A range of witness were called straight after the end of her testimony.  Certainly her husband had died unexpectedly and suspiciously, but there was no clear evidence of foul play.  The constable again reiterated the suspicions that the surgeon had poisoned Col, however, the source of his information was not prepared to come forward to give evidence.  Anyone who had been looking at Dionisia would have seen her struggling to supress a wry smile at the thought of her apprentice, Albin, writhing in pain in the back of her shop as his bowels struggled to digest the potion she had laced his pie with the night before.

By the end of the day, the jury had returned their decision that there was no evidence of murder regarding the butcher, but that the surgeon was guilty of murder with respect to the carniter.  The sentencing took no time at all, and was to be carried out the next morning.  The sheriff deftly avoided the issue of dark magic, but the jury members had later regaled the tavern with accounts of their belief that the surgeon was a devil worshipper based on the evidence they had been given.  This fuelled the creation of a great number of lurid stories that quickly spread across the city.  Some jury members also confessed that they had wanted to find the surgeon guilty on the count of the death of Butcher, but there had been too much doubt among their number, mainly because a number of the jury believed that it was too convenient to just blame the surgeon for this other death, too neat and tidy.

Law soon become fed up with the ever growing stories, the alcohol fuelled jolliness and the general excitement at the impending execution.  There would be a few sore heads the next morning taking in the cold field of death.  Law had been suffering for days with the knowledge that the surgeon was not guilty of the death of the carniter, and like several of the jury he thought that pinning the death of the butcher on Alvin was just too convenient.  On a number of occasions during the proceedings, Law had almost blurted out his own guilt, restraining himself at the last minute.  At one point Judd had taken him aside and spoken firmly about 'Keeping his mouth shut.'  This had scared Law, especially as Judd had handled him quite roughly.

As the evening passed, Law thought about visiting Alvin in the gaol.  He knew that this was simply so he could salve his own conscience, confessing his own guilt and begging forgiveness.  He barely knew the surgeon, like many of the city-folk he only knew Alvin by reputation, not visiting him due to health, nor had he drunk with him in any of the bars and taverns.  From the little Law knew, Alvin was an honourable man; a man who did not deserve to go to an early grave for a crime he did not commit.  He wanted to see the man who would be dying in his place, for Law was totally convinced that no jury would accept his own story of a hocking gone wrong.

It was after the fifth time he had heard stories, of the devil summoning worship of the surgeon, that he made up his mind.  The decision had actually seemed inevitable, and his thoughts grew calm during the brief walk to the gaol.  A small tip of coin was enough for the guard to let him in and he had found Alvin sat on the straw covered floor, the cell lit by a single candle.

'Judd's friend aren't you?'  The guest nodded in response to Alvin's question, 'I rarely forget a face.'

'I know you're not guilty.'  Law poured out, but was surprised that there was no grasping response from he prisoner, 'You didn't murder the carniter, it was an accident.' 

The continued silence of the surgeon led to Law spilling the whole story, the suspicions about the carniter's involvement in the death of Col Butcher, the disrespect shown to the widow, Law and Judd's own involvement in hocking the carniter and how that had gone horribly wrong with their victim falling on his own knife.  He even explained how Judd had set up the surgeon, who had clearly been trying to save the dying carniter.  Then, the worst in Law's eyes, how he himself had allowed the trial to proceed when he knew full well that the surgeon was innocent.

When Law finished his confession, tears streaming down his face, Alvin sat in silence processing the story for a while before simply saying, 'But I am guilty.'

'What?'  Law was confused, what did the man mean?

'I am guilty of murder.'  Alvin said it slowly, clear that Law had been flustered by his answer.

'But you're not, I've just explain that.'

'I didn't kill Perry, you're right.'  Alvin replied, 'But I have killed others.  It is the lot of the surgeon that many of his patients do not survive his help.'

'That's not murder, you shouldn't be punished for that, trying to help people.'

'Maybe I should, maybe I shouldn't.'  The surgeon replied thoughtfully, 'But I have actually murdered someone, deliberately, so I do deserve to die.'

'Who?  When?  Surely not Col Butcher?'  Law was surprised by the equanimity of the prisoner.

'Yes, the very same, and I shall tell you why if you make me a solemn oath, for we both know that no jury would believe Perry killed himself by accident, and it should truly be you who goes to meet the hangman on the morrow.'

'I'll swear.'  Law's guilt, the knowledge that he owed the surgeon a great debt ensured that he would do almost anything the surgeon asked.

'You must promise to look out for Dionisia Butcher.'

'I will.'  Law replied instantly, feeling the promise surprising achievable.

'It's not that simple, you must look out for her the rest of her life.  Guard her against those who wish to do her harm and bring her down.  For she is a dear friend of mine and I would hate for her to be brought down after having survived so much.'

'I promise, but I do not see how I can help her.' Law thought harder about the implications this time.  He was rapidly growing aware that this would not be the easy task he first thought.  How would he get her to accept his help, a successful woman who would have little interest in his friendship?

'I will tell you things that she will know have only come from me, therefore she will know that I have sent you to watch over her.'  Alvin's mood was lighter, almost happy, relieved to have passed on the responsibility.

'I killed Col Butcher.'  The surgeon let the confession hang in the air, not immediately delivering on his promise to explain his reasons.

'Why?'

'There were many reasons, but mainly for his wife.  I have a great affection for her, that goes back several years.  We were once lovers, but not any more.'  There was a wistful look in his eye, 'She had been cursed with a distaste for her husband's physical affections, despite her great admiration for his abilities as a businessman.  There was no love, there never was.  She wanted to be away from him, with a man of her own choosing.  She asked me for help and I provided it in the form of a potion to ensure he slept through the night, allowing her a measure of peace and quiet.  I had not told her that too much of that potion would make her husband seriously ill, potentially enough to die.  So she had duly given him too much in the hope of a quiet night, and you have heard many of the stories about him wandering the city hallucinating.  That had not been enough to despatch him, so when I was summoned to treat him, I administered more of the potion, to ensure his timely death.'

Alvin paused giving a fierce look that caught Law's attention, 'Dye must not know that I deliberately gave her a potion to overdose her husband with.  She may have wanted away with him, she may be ambitious, but she would never have deliberately killed him, no matter how much she may have entertained the idea.'

Law listened to the confession, feeling increasingly bound to his oath, knowing that his own guilt could only be assuaged though becoming Dionisia's protector.

'That's not all of it.  It wasn't a quick decision, built on Dye's desire to ensure her husband left her alone at night.  For years I've been trying to harm the butcher.  Before these happy circumstances arose, I tried to harm him business by surreptitiously planting poisons on his meat.  Anything to harm his business and ultimately get him away from Dye.  Of course, this was not successful although it did seem to attract the attention of the carniter.  Besides, it was not an easy route to pursue as an itinerant surgeon such as myself, travelling from place to place.'