The Prodigal Son (26 page)

Hercules thrust a cold, wet nose into my hand and took hold of my sleeve with his teeth, growling ominously. He was tired of waiting and wanted to get on. He had terrified every rabbit within half a mile's radius and was now looking for fresh fields to conquer. I was half inclined to shake him off with a stern word and a kick up his nether end, but then decided he was right. I should get back to Croxcombe and discover the facts before I deluded myself any further that I knew what had happened last night.

But what to do about my cudgel? I had been given the opportunity to extricate myself from any suspected involvement in Anthony's murder, and I should be a fool not to take it. Consequently, I stopped at the next stream I passed and washed the stained, weighted end of the stick in the running water, scrubbing it as clean as I could with a handful of grass and dry bracken. Then I disguised such faint marks as remained by plastering them well with mud scooped up from a patch of earth under the trees that had not yet dried after yesterday's storm. It occurred to me, as I regarded my handiwork, that I had given myself one advantage over the other residents at the manor; only I and the killer knew what the murder weapon had been. I had only to keep my ears open and wait for the murderer to give himself away. And on this optimistic note, Hercules and I set out to cover the last few miles to Croxcombe.

Dame Audrea might have sent Humphrey after me to bring me back, but I couldn't pretend that she was delighted to see me.

‘You went off in a great hurry this morning,' she accused me as I was ushered into her private solar by George Applegarth. ‘Common courtesy would surely have dictated that you take your leave of me.'

‘Madam, I'm sorry,' I apologized, ‘it was ill done of me, but I wanted to be on the road as early as possible and had no desire to disturb your rest. But you see that I have returned as you requested. Allow me to condole with you in this hour of your great loss.'

Her lips thinned and the blue eyes snapped angrily. ‘Don't be sarcastic with me, Master Chapman. You know very well that my elder son's death is nothing but a relief, both to me and to his brother.'

‘That's honest, at least,' I said. ‘I trust you'll be equally frank with the sheriff's officer when he comes. There's no policy better than honesty.'

She took a deep breath. ‘I've warned you, sirrah, I won't stand for insubordination. If that man of Anthony's delivered his message aright, you are perfectly well aware that I have no intention of involving the law. My son slipped, hit his head on a stone, fell in the moat and drowned.'

‘Was there a stone?' I asked.

‘No, of course there wasn't! Anthony was hit a stunning blow on the back of the head.'

‘What with?' I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could.

‘How do I know what with?' she blazed. ‘I wasn't there.'

I noticed that she had taken the first opportunity to protest her own innocence. The trouble was, I was half inclined to believe her.

‘Lady,' I said, ‘I won't pretend not to know why you've sent for me. Because of the things I've told people, you think I might be able to solve this crime for you without, as you put it, involving the law. So why not leave things as they are? Give out your story of an accident, bury your son and forget that it's a lie. If you don't want to see the murderer punished, why do you wish to know his name?'

She got up abruptly from the window-seat where she had been sitting, and started pacing about the room, hitting her balled right fist into the open palm of her left hand.

‘Why should you think that I don't want to see the murderer punished?'

‘Because he might be your other son.'

‘Nonsense!' she exclaimed harshly. ‘Simon has neither the courage nor the strength to kill anyone. Oh, he's a boaster, I'll grant you that, but he's too careful of his own skin to risk the hangman's noose. You look surprised. Do you think me the kind of doting mother who isn't aware of, or won't admit to, her children's shortcomings? I'm not such a fool. But Simon I can manage. I always could, and so could my late husband. But not Anthony. He was a wayward child from the time he was breeched. There was something evil in him that neither of us could touch.'

She was exaggerating, of course, to ease her conscience. Anthony was dead and she was glad that he was gone – life could return to normal – but she had to find excuses for her sense of relief. She wanted to know who his murderer was so that she could avenge her son in her own good time. There was to be no public retribution, but somehow or other, she would see his killer punished.

I asked, ‘Are you absolutely certain, lady, that you want me to discover the criminal for you? These revelations often don't come singly. You may feel sure that your younger son is innocent, but the truth could be different.'

She hesitated, then squared her shoulders.

‘I'll take that chance,' she said. ‘So, Master Chapman, can you make good your former boast, and find this killer for me?'

‘I can only try,' I agreed. ‘I'll do my best. But on one condition.'

‘Condition?' In her mouth it was a dirty word, and she made no attempt to hide her amazement at my temerity. ‘What condition?'

‘That you drop your charge against my half-brother, John Wedmore, that he is your missing page, John Jericho.'

‘Your half-brother? Your half-brother is John Jericho?'

‘No,' I said patiently. ‘That's what I'm telling you. You've made a mistake. John Wedmore is not the murderer of Jenny Applegarth. Her own husband has failed to identify him as such.'

‘Then George is a fool,' she snapped. ‘That man now under arrest in the Bristol bridewell is John Jericho. He may be six years older, but I'd know him anywhere. And Edward Micheldever agrees with me.'

‘Your receiver would agree with you whatever you decided,' I retorted, ‘and you know it.' She did know it. I could tell by the way she avoided my eyes. ‘The steward's word is good enough for me.'

Dame Audrea had stopped pacing and come to rest in front of me. We were like two fencers about to cross swords. She raised her eyes to mine.

‘Do I understand,' she asked finally, ‘that you won't assist me in this matter unless I withdraw my accusation against your … your half-brother, did you say?' I nodded. She turned and paced the room again. A full minute passed before she paused and returned to her former position. ‘Very well.' The words were torn from her with the greatest reluctance. ‘But I warn you, pedlar, if you fail to find my son's murderer, I'll have your kinsman's life, notwithstanding George's testimony to the contrary.'

I
believed her. She was the kind of woman who kept her word.

‘Very well,' I said. ‘We understand one another. I'll do my very best to unmask Master Bellknapp's killer, and if I do so to your satisfaction, you'll drop your charge against John Wedmore. If I fail, your accusation will stand.' She nodded. ‘In that case, I'll begin my investigation at once by asking you, Dame Audrea, to tell me where you were and what you were doing last night.'

‘Me? Are you interrogating
me
?'

Her thin bosom swelled in righteous indignation and she drew herself up to the full extent of her not very imposing height. But in spite of these drawbacks, she could still look formidable. I was a head and more taller than she was, but I nonetheless felt like a small boy who has been shown the cane and told to stand in the corner. I took a deep breath to steady my nerve, and reminded myself that I must not be intimidated.

‘Dame Audrea,' I pointed out firmly, ‘you are as much under suspicion as anyone else. You cannot pretend that you found your elder son's sudden return a blessing. Indeed, his arrival ruined your best hopes of continuing to rule Croxcombe Manor – as you have no doubt ruled it since the death of your husband – for the rest of your life. Or at least for the foreseeable future. You have as much to gain from his death as anyone. You must, therefore, appreciate that I cannot exonerate you without being convinced that you did not commit this crime. Otherwise, there's no point in my proceeding with the enquiry.'

I thought for a moment that I had gone too far. The over-large nose and pointed chin quivered, the blue eyes snapped in anger. But the expected dismissal did not come. She was, after all, a fair-minded woman and was forced to acknowledge the truth of what I'd said. Grudgingly, she answered, ‘I was in bed, of course, and asleep.'

‘Can anyone – your maid for example – vouch for that?'

She shrugged. ‘The girl has a truckle-bed in my room, certainly, but she sleeps like the dead. I might as well be honest and admit that whenever I get up in the night to use the piss-pot, which I frequently do – at my age that, I believe, is not uncommon – she never wakes. Doesn't even stir. So,' the Dame added ironically, ‘whether or not she would know if I'd left the chamber, in order to murder Anthony, is debatable. She would undoubtedly confirm my presence, if she thought that was what I wanted her to say, but you would be none the wiser, my friend, as regards discovering the truth.'

I grimaced. ‘Then I shall have to take your word, it seems.'

She relaxed a little. ‘I assure you, you may do so. I will be frank, Master Chapman, and admit that Anthony's return after all these years was a bitter blow, not only for me, but also for Simon—'

‘And for Master Kilsby?' I interrupted, beginning to recover my confidence.

To my surprise, a faint blush reddened the sallow cheeks. But it was a blush of anger, not embarrassment.

‘So people have been gossiping, have they?' She answered her own question. ‘Of course they have! How stupid of me to expect otherwise. Then let me say, here and now, that whatever hopes my bailiff may entertain of becoming my second husband, they are doomed to disappointment.'

‘Does he know that?'

She thought about it for a second or two before giving a little snort of laughter.

‘Probably not. But Reginald is an excellent bailiff and a good companion. I don't wish to lose him in either capacity.'

‘Which you could do if he knew your true mind?'

‘My daughter, Lady Chauntermerle, has been throwing out lures to him for some time. She and Sir Damien are dissatisfied with the man they have. However, we have strayed from the point.'

‘Which is?'

‘That, despite my resentment at Anthony's return, I am not so unnatural a mother as deliberately to murder my own son. Nor would Simon kill his brother.'

I wasn't sure that I believed her on either count. There had been moments during our conversation when I had been almost totally convinced of her innocence, but a lingering doubt remained. And as for Simon, I was extremely dubious about him. All the same, I was inclined to share his mother's conviction that he had neither the strength nor the courage to perform such a deed; that he was a boaster and a coward, too frightened to risk his own skin. But I should gain no more for the present by continuing to question Dame Audrea. She had told me all that she was going to tell me for now – over the years, it was a state of mind I had grown to recognize in people – but she might be persuaded to talk more later.

I thanked her for sparing me her valuable time, and intimated by my manner and way of speaking that I had more or less dismissed any idea that she was Anthony's killer. I also hinted, from the things I didn't say, that I had accepted Simon's innocence. Her manner grew more affable and she even went so far as to express her appreciation of my willingness to return to Croxcombe.

‘You will be wanting to pursue your enquiries elsewhere,' she said, waving a gracious hand as an indication that I could go. ‘You may continue using Anthony's bed while you remain with us, but you will have to continue sharing the chamber with his manservant. Master Attleborough is keen to leave us, but I thought it safer to refuse him permission for the time being. God alone knows what deep resentment he might possibly have been harbouring against my son.'

‘I assure you, Dame Audrea,' I smiled, ‘that such an idea had already occurred to me.'

The dame inclined her head in approval. It was obvious that she would much prefer the killer to be an outsider, a stranger like Humphrey, whom she had never set eyes on until four days ago, than any member of her household.

‘What will you do next?' she asked as I turned towards the door of the solar.

‘I must speak to everyone in turn, although whether any of them will be as honest with me as you have been …' I let the rest of the sentence hang.

If Dame Audrea suspected me of irony, she disguised it very well. Her strong-featured face was expressionless as she wished me good luck. ‘And I haven't forgotten our bargain,' she added.

Whether or not she would honour it, remained to be seen.

With my hand on the door latch, I was thrown violently backwards as someone forced his way into the room. One of my feet became hopelessly entangled with the other and I went sprawling amongst the rushes. From this undignified position, I looked up expecting to see Simon Bellknapp, and was astonished to find myself instead staring into the face of Thomas Bignell.

‘Master Bignell, please explain this untoward conduct immediately,' hissed Dame Audrea. ‘This is my private solar. I didn't even hear you knock, let alone receive permission to enter.'

It said much for the perturbation of the butcher's mind that he paid no attention to her. Indeed, I doubted that he had even noted the reprimand. He leaned down and helped me to my feet.

‘Chapman, Humphrey Attleborough has just this minute told me of your return, and why. You are to investigate the murder of Master Bellknapp, is that not so?'

I was still tenderly feeling my person for damage and answered shortly, ‘Yes.' Then, finding myself more or less intact, except for a couple of bruised elbows, which had suffered the brunt of my fall, I added, ‘At Dame Audrea's request.'