The Pardoner's Crime (14 page)

Sir Richard nodded. ‘Please examine the rest of the body.'

The crowd watched with morbid fascination as the
apothecary
bent to his task and ran fingers and hands over the naked body, prodding the skin and peering close to check on the stagnation of blood in the white and purple mottled skin. At last he looked up again.

‘This man has no manhood, my lord,' he announced. ‘His testicles have either never fallen, or he was gelded as a child.'

‘Explain what that means to the jury,' Richard directed.

‘It means that he could grow no body hair, no beard, and he would never have been able to have children.'

‘Could he have raped a woman?'

‘I doubt it, my lord. He would have no desire for it.'

Richard directed his attention to the jury. ‘Mark this well, jurymen. It may be important.'

He noted with some satisfaction when he saw that the bailiff was busy writing everything down.

‘Now look at the arrow, Master Oldthorpe. I would like you to remove it.'

The apothecary's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, as he clearly did not relish this task. Yet he did not flinch. Grasping the shaft of the arrow he pulled, exerting a steady traction so that it came away with a horrific sound, as if its barbed point scraped on bone and cartilage as it was removed.

‘I thank you, Master Oldthorpe,' Richard said. ‘Please leave it upon the bench here, and then you may step down.'

Once the apothecary had returned to stand by his wife, and Gilbert, their servant, Richard instructed the bailiff to call Simon the Fletcher.

‘Now, Master Fletcher,' he said, when the large, surly craftsman had taken the witness pen. ‘I would like you to compare these two arrows.' He gestured to Hubert, who moved forward and carried them over to the witness pen for the fletcher to examine.

Simon the Fletcher hefted them, ran his fingers over the head, checked the flights and looked down the length of each of them. At last, he said, ‘They were made by the same hand, my lord.'

‘And do you know whose hand that could have been?'

The fletcher shook his head. ‘All I can say is that they are arrows made for accuracy, by one skilled in fletchery – but not by me.'

‘Do you know of anyone who is so skilled?'

The fletcher shrugged. ‘In these days there may be many, my lord. All men are obliged to train with the yew bow.'

Richard nodded and dismissed him. Then he rapped his gavel and directed John of Flanshaw to record the fact that the two murders had been committed with arrows made by the same hand, according to the testimony of Simon the Fletcher.

‘Now let us consider the murdered man's possessions,' Richard went on. ‘Constable Burkin, show the court all that you found upon Albin of Rouncivale when you arrested him.'

Ned Burkin lifted the sack and staff that had been brought in with the body of the Pardoner and laid the sack on the bench.

‘First of all, my lord, he had this staff with a metal cross atop it.' He held it aloft for all to see. ‘And you can see it has been studded with pieces of coloured glass, to look as if it is embedded with jewels.'

At a sign from Richard he laid it on the bench then reached into the sack and drew out a purse.

‘He had this purse with fifteen shillings in it.'

Richard's eyes narrowed momentarily. ‘Record that please, Bailiff.'

Constable Burkin delved into the sack again and drew out a bundle of clothing, a wallet and three small earthenware jars. He opened the wallet and drew out a sheaf of papers.

‘There is writing on them, my lord. I think they are—'

But Richard had snapped his fingers and held out his hand for them. After rifling through them he declared, ‘As I thought, these are Indulgences written in Latin.' He held one up. ‘People call these pardons,' he explained. ‘The Pardoner is permitted by the law of the land and by church law to sell these indulgences which, while not pardoning the buyer from a transgression of some sort, are believed to reduce their load of guilt upon their day of Judgement. Or so they say.'

There was a titter of amusement from the crowd, which was immediately silenced when Richard rapped his gavel on the bench. He eyed the crowd censorially and went on sternly, ‘This court is investigating a murder, which is no cause for amusement. Now this Pardoner, Albin of Rouncivale sold many of these pardons, I want anyone who bought one to put his hand up now.'

Slowly and reluctantly, several people held up their hands.

‘After this session all of these people will be interviewed. Under oath, they will tell me why they had need of purchasing a pardon.'

There was a good deal of shuffling of feet, as indeed Richard 
had supposed there would be. He imagined that people would at that very moment be preparing alternative reasons. He had little doubt that he would be able to sort out the real from the imaginary.

He nodded to Constable Burkin who picked up the first of the three earthenware jars. Pulling out the bung he poured out a number of small bones into his hand. Once more Richard gestured for them to be handed to him.

‘I imagine that the Pardoner claimed that these bones were holy relics of some saint,' he announced. ‘And that for a price he permitted sinners to touch them to receive the pardon of the saint.'

There was a gasp of amazement from the crowd and a tall man dressed in the garb of a tanner cried out, ‘That is just so, my lord. They are the small bones of the hand of St Christopher himself.'

Sir Richard let the bones stream back into the jar. ‘These are pig bones,' he said to the tanner. ‘And you shall tell me later the nature of the sins that you needed divine help with.'

At a nod from Richard, Constable Burkin pulled the bung out of the second jar and poured out a number of wood
chippings
.

‘These I expect were said to be slivers from the true cross, or chippings of the coffin of some saint.'

Again there were gasps of surprise from several members of the audience and Richard nodded to Hubert to pinpoint them so that they too would be called to give testimony to him later.

‘The third jar, Constable,' Richard prompted.

The constable opened the jar and poured out two small white objects. ‘Teeth, my lord.' He handed hem to Richard who looked at them one at a time.

‘Ugh! How disgusting!' exclaimed Lady Wilhelmina. Richard permitted himself a smile at her look of repugnance.

‘Master Oldthorpe,' he called. ‘Your opinion on these, if you please.'

The apothecary came forward and bent over the teeth in Richard's palm.

‘They are human and fairly fresh, my lord. One is a dog tooth,' he said, indicating one of his own, next to his two front incisors. ‘And the other is a molar, one of the grinding back teeth.' Lady Wilelmina had leaned forward and commented, ‘They look fairly healthy.'

The apothecary looked at her with an expression of respect. ‘Her ladyship is quite correct, I believe. They seem to have been good teeth.'

Richard nodded. ‘Yet not the teeth of a saint.' He eyed the crowd. ‘Who here paid Albin of Rouncivale to gain a pardon by touching one of these teeth?'

But there was no reply from the crowd.

Richard handed the teeth back to Constable Burkin and brushed his hands together. ‘So no one knows ought of the teeth? So be it. Now we come to the investigation of the murder scene itself. Yesterday morning Father Daniel, my assistant Hubert of Loxley and I came back along the road that Albin of Rouncivale had been taken. It is through the forest towards Kirklees Priory. We have already heard the testimonies of Father Daniel, Constable Burkin and his men of the watch who accompanied the prisoner. We heard that the murderer had called to them and that everyone had looked round. At that moment the murderer shot his arrow and hit Albin of Rouncivale through the throat. He fell off his donkey into the dusty trail. We saw the exact spot, and from that I was able to work out the position of the assassin. I
investigated
a spot in the undergrowth just off the trail and from my findings I am able to give some information about the assassin.'

He waited a few moments, watching the faces in the crowd as he spoke.

‘This was a ruthless murderer. He was on his own and not accompanied by others. He was a militarily trained man of 
above average height, who had been waiting there for some time. Moreover, he had waited there with the single purpose of killing the Pardoner, yet undoubtedly would have dispatched the rest of the party had they shown any sign of attempting pursuit.'

There was stunned silence in the hall for several moments. Then Sir Thomas broke it by thumping the bench with his fist.

‘Nonsense! How can you say any of those things without having been here and witnessed it all yourself?'

Richard turned and gave his challenger a thin smile. ‘Simply because I looked for the signs and found them. Then I used my brain and built up a picture.' He turned and faced the court.

‘Firstly, the point he had chosen for his ambush was well thought out. He did not aim to disturb the undergrowth too much, yet he made sure that he had enough room to retreat swiftly should the need arise. He had prepared well by being there some time before the party arrived along the road. He had a horse tethered in the forest some fifty yards away, far enough away to be fairly sure of silence, yet close enough to reach swiftly to get away. Indeed, he was there so long before that he felt the need to relieve himself, which he did by passing urine against the side of the oak tree that he was sheltered beneath.'

‘And how do you know that he was tall?' Sir Thomas demanded.

‘By the top of the trail of urine on the side of the tree,' Sir Richard explained.

‘And what about being there just to kill the Pardoner? How did you know that?'

‘For the same reason that I know that he had some military training. I found six small holes in the ground.'

‘Now I know you are mad!' Sir Thomas exclaimed.

Richard shook his head. ‘I repeat, there were six small holes in the ground where the assassin had stuck his arrows in the 
ground. That is what a trained bowman would do, so that he could reload swiftly without having to reach for a quiver. So he was trained. Also, he shot only one arrow, and spared the rest of the party when he could without doubt have dispatched them all.'

Running his eyes over the crowd he saw Constable Burkin and his two men of the watch shuffle about. The Warrengate constable paled visibly and swallowed hard. Further along, Father Daniel made the sign of a cross over his heart.

Sir Thomas scowled angrily. ‘You could have said so straight away, Sir Richard. But what all this amounts to is that the killer, whoever he is, felt that he was doing what this court should have done in the first place – punish the rogue!'

Richard shook his head. ‘We still have not got enough evidence to say one way or the other.' He rapped his gavel and addressed the jury. ‘This case is not yet closed, but will be returned to at a later time. The same jurymen will be called again.'

He then addressed the bailiff. ‘Since we cannot come to a conclusion over the Pardoner's murder, we shall now
reconsider
the Pardoner's alleged crime. The rape of the Wakefield maid, Lillian Fenton. Call her and her cousin, Matilda Oxley.'

John of Flanshaw duly did so and Matilda, Beatrice and Lillian threaded their way through the crowd. Sir Richard pointed to Matilda, then to the witness pen. She took her place, her head held high. Dressed in a green gown and with her head covered in a wimple she made an impressive sight.

‘You are Matilda Oxley?' Sir Richard queried. ‘What is your relationship to the accuser?'

‘I am, my lord. I am kinswoman to Lillian Fenton.'

‘And you live at the Bucket Inn together?'

‘We do, my lord. And we do not understand why you are bothering to investigate the Pardoner's crime. Is it not best to allow Lillian to get over her ordeal? As you know, she has suffered and —'

‘I will ask the questions, Mistress Oxley,' Richard
interrupted
.
‘You are betrothed, I understand. Give your betrothed's name to the court.'

‘Robert Hood, my lord.'

Sir Thomas leaned forward, his face suddenly suffused. ‘The contrariant! Then why is this woman not already in the Tolbooth herself?'

‘Because this court will not permit it, Sir Thomas,' Richard said patiently, yet firmly. He went on, ‘You were ill the night of the alleged rape?'

Matilda looked down, her face registering both anxiety and embarrassment. ‘I had a flux of the bowels, my lord.'

‘And your cousin went out to meet someone after the curfew time. Who was that?'

Matilda looked at him beseechingly.

‘You need have no fear in answering,' Richard urged. ‘You are safe here. We merely wish to get to the truth.'

‘It was to meet my Robin.'

‘Outrageous!' Sir Thomas thundered.

‘You may stand down,' Sir Richard said. ‘Bailiff now call the maid, Lillian Fenton.'

It was clear to all that Lillian was reluctant to appear before the court. Most people were aware of her bandaged wrists, and the reason for the bandages. Richard tried to put her at her ease. Apart from her blue gown and grey wimple, she looked very much a younger version of Matilda Oxley.

‘Your cousin tells us that you went to meet her betrothed. Where were you to meet him?'

‘In the town cemetery, my lord. But I could not see anyone. And then … and then—'

‘Tell us,' Richard urged.

‘I was grabbed from behind, sir,' Lillian replied, her voice quavering as she replied tremulously, tears only a moment away. ‘Someone grabbed my neck and forced me to be still. I … I believe that he would have snapped my neck. And then – he lifted my clothes and entered me – from behind, like a dog!'