The Elephants of Norwich

Chapter Four

Covered with a shroud, the body lay on a stone slab in the morgue. Although it was a warm evening outside, there was an abiding chill in the air and Ralph Delchard gave a slight shiver as he followed the sheriff and his turbulent guest into the chamber. Richard de Fontenel was more restrained, cowed by a rebuke from Bigot and showing a respect for the dead now that he was on hallowed ground. Darkness was closing in on the castle and what little natural light penetrated the morgue was now spent. The dancing flame of a single large candle illumined the scene. Hermer somehow looked much smaller than when alive, a shapeless lump beneath the shroud. Herbs had been used to sweeten the smell of decay but it still invaded their nostrils. At the sheriff’s invitation, de Fontenel stepped forward to tug back the shroud. A gasp escaped his lips. The body had been washed and most of the wounds had been bound up, but the corpse was still repulsive to behold. After taking a quick inventory, de Fontenel covered his steward up again.

‘What happened to his hands?’ he asked.

‘They were not found with the body,’ said Bigot.

‘Hacked off?’

‘Presumably, my lord.’

‘But why?’

‘I was hoping that you might suggest an answer.’

‘It’s needless butchery.’

‘Can you think why someone would wish to commit it?’

‘You know what I think, my lord sheriff,’ growled the other.

He lifted the shroud again to take another look at Hermer’s face. Ralph studied his reaction. He and Gervase had visited the morgue earlier to scrutinise the body in the hope of finding that telltale evidence had been revealed by its tending. Neither of them had ever met the steward yet they treated his corpse with a reverence they felt appropriate. There was nothing reverent about de Fontenel’s perusal. As he gazed down at the bruised face for the second time, he might have been appraising some rotten food served up to him by mistake. Ralph saw no hint of grief, still less of affection. He was grateful that the sheriff had asked him to accompany them. It meant that he was able to lend support to his host and take the measure of a man whose extraordinary behaviour had interrupted the banquet in the hall. Richard de Fontenel did not endear himself to the commissioner.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ the visitor said, flicking the shroud back into place. ‘I’ve seen all that I need to of Hermer.’

‘What will you do with the body?’ said Bigot.

‘Take it back with us. My men have brought a cart for the purpose. Hermer will be buried in the local church. And soon,’ he added. ‘Before that stink grows worse.’

‘Death is never fragrant, my lord,’ observed Ralph.

Ignoring the remark, de Fontenel led the way out. When all three of them stepped back into the fresh air, they saw torches burning in the bailey. The last of the guests were leaving the castle. Roger Bigot now gave vent to his own anger.

‘I’ve indulged you far enough,’ he said, sharply. ‘It’s time for recompense.’

‘I owe you nothing, my lord sheriff.’

‘An apology is the least that you could offer,’ prompted Ralph.

The visitor rounded on him. ‘Who asked you for your opinion?’

‘Nobody. I offer it of my own free will.’

‘Then I treat your advice with the contempt it merits.’

‘Don’t insult my guest,’ warned Bigot. ‘I’ll have no more of that.’

‘Then tell the lord Ralph to hold his tongue.’

‘Tell me yourself,’ said Ralph, squaring up to him. ‘If you dare.’

‘I’d dare more than that,’ asserted de Fontenel, truculently.

‘Would you?’

Their eyes locked in a silent tussle. Richard de Fontenel was smouldering but caution slowly got the better of anger. Ralph’s stare was calm but steadfast, conveying a challenge that was too daunting for his adversary to take up. The fact that he was a royal commissioner also had to be weighed in the balance. If rough hands were laid upon his agent, the King himself would come in search of the malefactor. It was Richard de Fontenel who eventually gave way and averted his gaze. The sheriff issued a stinging reproach to his uninvited guest.

‘Take care, my lord,’ he said, confronting him. ‘Offend anyone else beneath my roof and you’ll pay dearly. The banquet you so rudely interrupted this evening was held in honour of important visitors. It was arranged days ago and could not be cancelled at the last moment because of a sad turn of events. No disrespect was being offered to your steward. As you saw, his body was treated with care and respect. Its very presence in the morgue ensured that little merriment took place in my hall this evening.’

‘I can vouch for that,’ Ralph confirmed.

‘There was no excuse at all for your boorish behaviour,’ continued Bigot, glaring at de Fontenel. ‘It disgusted me, upset my wife and outraged my guests. While I’m sheriff here, I’ll obey nobody’s wild demands. Mark that well, my lord. The next time you ride unbidden into my castle with a troop of men at your back, I’ll have each one of you clapped in irons. Is that understood?’

‘Yes,’ murmured the other.

‘Speak up, man!’

‘Yes, my lord sheriff. I was perhaps a little intemperate.’

‘Is that all you have to say?’

Richard de Fontenel shifted his feet and threw a hostile glance at Ralph, annoyed that he was being reprimanded in front of the commissioner and reluctant to yield up the apology that was being asked of him. Cold facts had to be accepted, however. In the county of Norfolk, the power of the sheriff was paramount. It was backed by the King’s own writ and it was fatal to violate that.

‘I crave your forgiveness, my lord sheriff,’ he said at length.

Bigot was brusque. ‘Some things are unpardonable.’

‘I was crazed by the news about my steward.’

‘That’s not how my deputy viewed your response. Olivier tells me that you seemed more concerned about the loss of your gold elephants than you did about the murder of your steward. Have you no loyalty to the men you employ?’

‘I’m their master,’ retorted the other. ‘It’s they who owe loyalty to me.’

‘What sort of man was Hermer?’ asked Ralph.

‘A good one until he was corrupted by Mauger.’

‘You’ve firm proof of that, my lord?’

‘I will have,’ vowed de Fontenel. ‘When I shake the truth out of him.’

‘You’ll do nothing of the kind,’ said Bigot, peremptorily. ‘The lord Mauger is under my protection. I’ll conduct any interrogation that is called for and I’ll do so at my own discretion. I’ll not be stampeded into action by you.’

‘Besides,’ said Ralph, mischievously, ‘if memory serves me aright, the lord Mauger has more knights at his beck and call than you. If you try to threaten him, he’ll beat you all the way back to your manor house.’

‘There’ll be no violence between the two of them,’ continued the sheriff. ‘This county is subject to the rule of law and I’m charged with the duty of enforcing that law.’ He gave de Fontenel a meaningful look. ‘Do you still intend to go your own way?’

‘Not if you apprehend Mauger.’

‘That’s not the answer I look for, my lord. You warmed the ears of my deputy with a blunt message for me. You swore to take the law into your own hands. Are you still of the same mind? If you are,’ Bigot said, unequivocally, ‘I’ll give you time to reflect on your stupidity in one of the dungeons. Is that what you want?’

‘No, my lord sheriff.’

‘Then repudiate your boast.’

There was a long pause. ‘Perhaps I spoke in haste,’ conceded the other at length.

‘Spoke in haste and acted in fury.’

‘I’m sorry about that.’

‘Rein in your temper,’ ordered Bigot, ‘and say no more about the lord Mauger. He’ll not escape close questioning. Other lines of inquiry must also be explored.’

‘That’s why I asked about your steward,’ said Ralph, seriously. ‘Did the fellow have many enemies?’

‘None at all, as far as I know,’ grunted de Fontenel.

‘Was he married, my lord?’

‘Hermer lived alone.’

‘He must have had family or friends of some sort.’

‘His parents came from Falaise but they died years ago. As for friends,’ he said with a slight smirk, ‘Hermer took his pleasures where he could find them. He liked the girls to be young and pretty.’

‘Why do you think he was murdered?’ asked Ralph.

‘Because he knew too much. Hermer was bribed to steal the elephants from me. When he handed them over to his paymaster — and I know who that was — his tongue was silenced in the most brutal way.’

‘It’s the brutality that worries me, my lord.’

‘For what reason?’

‘Put yourself in the position of this alleged paymaster,’ suggested Ralph. ‘For the sake of argument, imagine that you bribe someone to steal precious items from a rival. When that’s done, you decide to have your hireling killed.’

‘Go on.’

‘Wouldn’t you take care to hide your tracks? Wouldn’t you bury the body some distance away instead of leaving it under the nose of the lord sheriff?’

‘Probably.’

‘I certainly would,’ opined Bigot.

‘There’s another point,’ continued Ralph. ‘Your steward looks to have been sturdy enough but he was no soldier. It wouldn’t have been difficult for someone to take him unawares with a sly dagger.’

‘So?’

‘Why stab him a dozen times or more when one well-placed thrust would’ve done the task? Your steward was defenceless, he wore no armour. Why was his body so cruelly abused? If you had seen his ankles, you’d have noticed the ugly weals left by a piece of rope. Your steward was dragged on his back over rough ground, my lord. Who’d wish to do that?’

‘Mauger.’

‘Keep his name out of it,’ ordered the sheriff.

‘I agree,’ said Ralph. ‘The man who murdered your steward had a personal score to settle. It was a vengeful death. That rules out the lord Mauger. From what I hear, he’s no saint but neither is he a coldblooded killer. Remember those missing hands, my lord. Why were they cut off? There has to be a meaning in that brutality.’

‘The lord Ralph is right,’ concluded Bigot. ‘The man we seek didn’t bribe your steward into stealing those elephants. He slaughtered Hermer for a purpose.’

‘To strike at me,’ said de Fontenel.

‘No,’ argued Ralph. ‘To get revenge. I come back to my original question, my lord. This is an intensely personal crime. Who were Hermer’s enemies?’

‘I told you. He had none.’

‘Think hard.’

‘There’s no need. Hermer was a conscientious steward who carried out my orders to the letter. Nobody could have any cause to dislike him, let alone hate him enough to carry out such a barbaric attack.’

‘What about Alstan?’

‘Who?’

‘An old man we met along the way,’ said Ralph. ‘One of your bordars.’

‘There are dozens of such men on my estates,’ said the other, dismissively. ‘I can’t be expected to remember the name of every churl.’

‘You should remember Alstan. Old age didn’t deprive him of his spirit. You reduced him to slavery. When he had the gall to complain, you had the fellow whipped and chased off your land.’

‘It was no more than the wretch deserved.’

‘That’s a matter of opinion, my lord. I saw Alstan’s scars. They’ll remain till his dying day. I was reminded of them when I went into the morgue earlier and looked at the wounds on your steward’s back. As a matter of interest,’ Ralph went on, ‘who actually administered that beating?’

‘I don’t know. I left the matter to Hermer.’

‘Could he have wielded the whip himself?’

‘Possibly.’

‘Then it seems he did have an enemy, after all. Who’d have a better reason to drag him at the tail of a horse than a man whose back had been lashed to shreds? I’m not saying that Alstan is the culprit here,’ Ralph emphasised, ‘because I’m certain that he’s not. The old man can barely walk, leave alone commit murder. But others might want revenge on his behalf. Others might want to cut off the hand that used that whip on Alstan. Do you see what I’m telling you, my lord?’

‘What?’

‘Forget the lord Mauger. Look nearer home for the killer.’

Gervase Bret lay on the bed and cradled his wife lovingly in his arms. Moonlight slanted in through the gaps in the shutters to create a striped pattern on the bare floor. He kissed Alys softly on the forehead.

‘I’m sorry, my love,’ he whispered.

‘It’s not your fault, Gervase.’

‘I should never have brought you with us.’

‘You weren’t to know that a terrible murder would be committed. Besides,’ she said, squeezing his hand, ‘I’d rather be with you whatever may befall us.’

‘The ride was too exhausting for you. I should have realised that.’

‘I’d be well enough after a night’s sleep.’

‘You’ll be able to rest all day tomorrow, Alys.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it. Golde and I want to see something of Norwich.’

‘Take some of Ralph’s men as an escort.’

‘Don’t fuss over me,’ she teased. ‘I can manage, especially with Golde at my side. You just worry about the work that brought you here in the first place. The sooner that’s done, the sooner we can head back home to Winchester again.’

‘There may be some delay, I’m afraid,’ he sighed.

‘Why is that?’

‘This murder has complicated matters, my love. It has a direct bearing on the major dispute that we came to settle. Ralph has decided that we can’t even begin our deliberations until the crime has been solved.’

‘Surely, that can be left to the lord sheriff.’

‘We feel obliged to help him.’

‘No, Gervase,’ she objected with sudden alarm, ‘it’s far too dangerous.’

‘We’ll move with caution, I promise you.’

‘But you’re dealing with a brutal killer. I overheard some of the remarks made at the banquet. The victim was not merely killed. He was butchered to death.’

‘Don’t believe all the gossip,’ he warned, keen to allay her fears. ‘At times like this, people always exaggerate. The murderer was callous, it’s true, but he’ll soon be caught and punished.’

‘Why must you and Ralph join in the hunt?’

‘Because we need to, my love. No more questions.’

He kissed her softly on the lips to terminate the conversation. A long pause ensued. Hearing the change in her breathing, he thought that his wife had drifted off to sleep and he began to doze off himself. Alys brought him awake again.

‘Gervase?’ she murmured.

‘Yes?’

‘Who was that dreadful man?’

‘Which one?’

‘The one who stormed into the hall in the middle of the banquet.’

‘That’s Richard de Fontenel. He has extensive holdings in the county. Ralph and I will have to see rather a lot of him, unfortunately. He’ll have to show better manners in the shire hall or we’ll have him removed.’

‘He was so rude and frightening.’

‘That’s typical of the man, I’m told.’

‘Could she really be thinking of taking such a brute as her husband?’

‘Who?’

‘The lady Adelaide,’ she explained. ‘You must have seen her. She was that beautiful creature who sat beside Ralph.’

Gervase grinned. ‘I thought that was Golde.’

‘The other side of him. You know full well the lady I mean. Every eye in the room was on her at some point. Her name is Adelaide. She’s a rich widow and someone told me that she was considering a marriage proposal from the lord Richard.’

‘He’s a rough wooer, if tonight is anything to judge by.’

‘She didn’t appear to be surprised by his behaviour.’

‘Perhaps she expected him, then,’ he speculated. ‘It may even be that his performance in the hall was put on largely for her benefit. Perhaps he wanted to impress his future bride by showing her that he was a law unto himself.’

Alys was firm. ‘That certainly wasn’t the case,’ she said. ‘What woman in her right mind would be impressed with that crude behaviour? Besides, the lord Richard obviously didn’t know that she’d even be at the table. His manner changed at once when he noticed her. He even had the grace to look apologetic.’

‘You obviously watched him carefully.’

‘I watched her, Gervase. The lady Adelaide was the person who interested me.’

‘Why?’

‘Because she held every man in thrall.’

‘Not me, my love.’

‘I saw you sneaking a look at her,’ she said, nudging him with an elbow.

‘Idle curiosity.’

‘Well, my curiosity wasn’t idle. I made a point of speaking to her as we left.’

‘What did she say?’

‘That banquets at the castle didn’t always end so prematurely. She’s clearly someone who’s in her element on such occasions. I have to admit that she made me feel rather awkward and out of place.’

‘Nonsense!’

‘It’s the truth, Gervase.’ She snuggled into his shoulder. ‘But I’m glad that I went. I was enjoying it until the lord Richard burst in. That was why her comment was so odd.’

‘Odd?’

‘Yes. The lady Adelaide could see that I was dismayed by the commotion. She told me to make allowances for the intruder because he was the victim of a crime. The odd thing was the way that she said it.’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘Everyone else was shocked and angry,’ recalled Alys. ‘But not the lady Adelaide. Instead of being appalled at the bad behaviour of a friend, she sounded like a loyal wife apologising for an erring husband.’

Gervase propped himself up on his elbow to look down at her in the half-dark. ‘What else did the lady Adelaide tell you?’ he asked.

Mauger Livarot pored over the documents that were set out on the table in the parlour and smiled with satisfaction. Standing at his shoulder was his steward, Drogo, a small, stringy man in his fifties with darting eyes and a pale forehead that was visibly crisscrossed with tributaries of blue veins. Both of them looked up when they heard the approach of horses’ hooves. Drogo went swiftly across to the window to peer out.

‘Well?’ asked Livarot.

‘The lord sheriff and his men.’

‘I expected them earlier than this.’

‘Two strangers are riding with him.’

‘Men of consequence?’

‘The one most certainly is,’ said Drogo as he looked at Ralph Delchard. ‘The other lacks any authority but he bears himself well.’

Livarot got up from his chair and joined his steward at the window. He watched as Roger Bigot and the two strangers dismounted before walking towards the house. A servant admitted them and conducted them straight to the parlour where there was an exchange of greetings and introductions were made. When he heard that two royal commissioners had come calling, Livarot’s interest quickened.

‘You’re most welcome,’ he said with a smile that barely stopped short of ingratiation. ‘I thought that I’d have to give evidence before you at the shire hall. It’s heartening to see that the whole matter can be settled in the privacy of my own home.’

‘We’ve not come here to discuss any property claims,’ explained Ralph. ‘The lord sheriff was kind enough to ask our help on a separate — but perhaps related — subject.’

‘And what might that be?’

‘The murder of Richard de Fontenel’s steward.’

‘Murder!’ echoed the other.

His surprise appeared to be genuine but the news provoked no reaction from Drogo. The older man simply lurked watchfully in the background. The sheriff gave them a terse account of the events surrounding the discovery of the body.

‘I can see why you came to me,’ said Livarot, wearily. ‘To interrogate me. Richard no doubt thinks that I’m the killer.’

‘That was the kindest thing he called you, my lord,’ said Ralph.

The other man grinned. ‘He and I have never been kindred spirits.’

‘This is a serious business,’ Bigot reminded him. ‘There are some questions we need to ask you and it will save us all time if I put them bluntly.’

‘Be as blunt as you wish, my lord sheriff,’ said Livarot, indicating the seats, ‘but at least be comfortable while you speak.’ He waited until they sat down, then lowered himself into a chair opposite them, leaving Drogo on his feet alone. ‘Now,’ he went on, composing his features into a token solemnity, ‘ask what you must.’

‘Are you involved in any way in the murder?’ said Bigot crisply.

‘No, my lord sheriff.’

‘Where have you been for the last couple of days?’

‘Here on my estates.’

‘You’ve not left them for any reason?’

‘Only for a morning’s hunting,’ admitted the other. ‘Oh, and I did pay an important call on a friend yesterday afternoon.’

‘May we know his name?’

‘It was a lady, my lord sheriff. I think you’ll guess who she might be. Talk to her, if you wish. I’m sure that the lady Adelaide will tell you exactly when I arrived at her house and when I departed. As for my movements on the estate,’ he went on, turning to his steward, ‘Drogo will confirm that I was here for the vast majority of the time and I can call a dozen other witnesses who’ll say the same.’

‘Tenants of yours?’ asked Ralph.

‘Yes, my lord, but honest men who’ll not speak up for me simply because they pay their rent into my coffers. I won’t pretend that I’m distressed to hear of Hermer’s death. I never liked the fellow so he’ll not be mourned here. But that doesn’t mark me out as his executioner.’ An oily smile spread. ‘Given the choice, I’d far sooner kill his master but I’m too God-fearing to do anything like that.’

‘What do you know of a theft from the lord Richard’s house?’ said Bigot.

‘I know that it has nothing to do with me.’

‘But you’re aware of the crime?’

‘The lady Adelaide mentioned it to me.’

‘Did she tell you what was stolen?’

‘Two gold elephants that were destined to be a wedding present to her. If she accepted the hand of Richard de Fontenel, that is. The lady Adelaide was spared that fate, fortunately for her.’

‘And fortunately for you as well,’ noted the sheriff, bluntly.

‘Luck has always sat on my shoulder.’

‘Is it only a case of luck?’ asked Ralph.

‘What else might it be, my lord?’

‘The profit of calculation.’

Livarot stiffened. ‘Are you accusing me of the theft?’

‘Of course not. I merely point out the interesting coincidence that you stand to gain a great deal from it.’ He ran an appraising eye over his host. ‘Though I doubt if the same can be said for the lady Adelaide.’

‘Don’t rush to judgement on that score.’

Ralph beamed. ‘I’d never do that, my lord.’

‘May I ask a question?’ intervened Gervase, turning to Livarot. ‘You told us a moment ago that you didn’t like Hermer.’

‘I loathed the man,’ confessed the other.

‘Why?’

‘Because he was working with Richard de Fontenel to dispossess me of land that’s rightfully mine. Drogo and I were going through the deeds once again when you arrived, Master Bret. My claim is incontrovertible.’

‘That remains to be decided, my lord.’

‘At the appropriate time,’ added Ralph.

Gervase was tenacious. ‘Tell us more about Hermer.’

‘I scarcely knew the fellow.’

‘You knew him well enough to loathe him.’

‘Naturally,’ replied Livarot. ‘He was the lord Richard’s creature. I’d hate anyone who was employed by that unprincipled rogue.’

‘Did you ever meet Hermer?’

‘A number of times, Master Bret.’

‘Describe him to us.’

‘A short, stout, ugly fellow, somewhat older than you but younger than the lord Ralph. He looked solid enough, but Hermer was a weak, frightened, cringing man when his master was near. Able, I dare say, but terrified to contradict the lord Richard.’

‘And you say that you hardly knew the man,’ observed Gervase with irony.

‘I know of him and that’s quite different.’

‘How would he deal with his master’s tenants?’

‘Unmercifully.’

‘You just told us that he was weak,’ said Ralph.

‘Only in the presence of Richard de Fontenel. When his master wasn’t around, Hermer could strut and bully very effectively on his behalf.’

‘Was he capable of whipping a slave on the estate?’

‘Easily.’

‘Even if the man were old and defenceless?’

‘That would give the punishment more appeal.’

Gervase took over again. ‘Hermer must have been very unpopular, then.’

‘Only among the men,’ said Livarot with a sly grin. ‘From what I gather, it might have been another story with the women. Isn’t that so, Drogo?’

‘According to the rumours,’ said the steward, trying to conceal a snigger.

‘You seem well informed about life on another estate,’ remarked Gervase.

‘News travels, Master Bret.’

‘So I see.’

‘Is there anything else you wish to know?’ asked Livarot with a benign smile. ‘I’m always more than ready to indulge royal commissioners.’

‘That wasn’t the experience of our predecessors, my lord.’

‘No,’ said Ralph, pointedly. ‘If you’d been more honest and less evasive with them, our journey might not have been necessary. But that’s something we can resolve in the shire hall when these crimes have been solved.’

Livarot shrugged. ‘I’m sorry that my steward and I were unable to help you there.’

‘But you did help us,’ Ralph countered.

‘Immensely,’ said Gervase. ‘Without even realising it.’

Their host exchanged a baffled glance with Drogo.

‘We’ll probably need to speak to you again,’ decided the sheriff, rising to his feet. ‘Meanwhile, if anything comes to mind that’s in any way relevant to our investigations, I’d be grateful if you’d let us know.’

When Ralph and Gervase got up as well, Livarot escorted his visitors to his front door, pausing to scratch his head when he got there.

‘There is one thing that I should perhaps mention,’ he began.

‘Well?’ prodded the sheriff.

‘It may have nothing to do with the murder, of course, but who can tell?’

‘Does it concern Hermer?’

‘I think so, my lord sheriff. Some weeks ago, a man was seen trespassing on my land near nightfall. When he realised that he’d been spotted, he turned tail and ran off.’

‘What’s the significance of this story?’

‘According to the tenant who saw him, the man was Hermer the Steward.’

‘Why should Hermer be creeping around your property?’

Mauger Livarot opened the door and waved his guests through it. ‘I’m afraid that it’s too late to ask him,’ he said. ‘Goodbye.’

Slumped in a chair, Richard de Fontenel brooded on his misfortune. A few days earlier, he had been confident that he could at last overcome the resistance of the lady to whom he wished to be married. It was something for which he had worked zealously over a period of months. What gave him additional pleasure was the fact that his joy would provoke rage and frustration elsewhere. The imminent arrival of royal commissioners appeared to offer him another opportunity to secure an advantage over a despicable rival. Mauger Livarot would be completely routed. On other fronts, too, the tide seemed to be running in de Fontenel’s favour. Then, suddenly, everything had changed. The gifts intended to ensnare his bride were stolen, his steward vanished and his plans began to fall apart. Discovery of Hermer’s corpse served to exacerbate the situation. He was deprived of a vital ally in the property dispute that lay ahead and, while he was embroiled in a murder investigation, the field was clear for Livarot to court the lady Adelaide. It was galling.

The unannounced visit to the castle had been a grave mistake. He saw that now. Anger had clouded his judgement. Not only had he insulted Roger Bigot, the person on whom he relied for justice, he had also lowered himself in the esteem of the very woman he sought to impress. Unaware of the lady Adelaide’s presence in the hall, he had blundered in and shocked her along with all the other guests. It would take more than two gold elephants to woo her once more to the verge of accepting his proposal. He meditated for a long while on how he might win back her good opinion. Recriminations were still sweeping through his mind in waves when there was a knock on the door. He did not even hear it. A louder knock made him sit up and listen.

‘Come in!’ he called.

The door opened and a servant entered with a wooden box in his grasp.

‘Yes?’ said his master.

‘This was brought to the house, my lord.’

‘What is it?’

‘I’ve no idea, but it bears your name.’

‘Who delivered it?’

‘I can’t tell you, my lord. I found it lying on the step.’

‘Bring it here.’

The servant trudged across the room. He was a tall, gangly young man with a mop of dark hair and a curly beard. He gave the box to his master. Attached to the top by a nail was a scrap of paper on which the name of Richard de Fontenel had been scrawled.

‘Stand off, Clamahoc,’ he snapped, waving the servant away with an irritable hand. ‘I don’t need you to bend over me like that.’

‘No, my lord,’ said Clamahoc, taking a few paces backwards. ‘Shall I go?’

‘Not until I see what this is.’

The box was crudely made. Having no lock, its lid was secured by means of two hooks that were hammered into a tight embrace. It took de Fontenel some time before he could prise the hooks apart with his dagger. He replaced the weapon on its sheath and lifted the lid. One glance was enough to make his blood run cold. Slamming the lid shut, he jumped up from the seat and thrust the box at his servant.

Clamahoc took it, mystified. ‘What am I to do with it, my lord?’

‘Take it to the priest. Ask him to put it into Hermer’s coffin.’

‘Coffin?’

‘That’s where it belongs. See for yourself.’

The servant was tentative. He slowly raised the lid of the box to peep in, then gaped in horror. His master’s command was explained. Lying side by side in the box were two blood-covered hands. On one of the fingers, he recognised Hermer’s ring.