The Malice of Unnatural Death

Chapter Twenty-Four

Exeter City

‘Did I tell you the joke about the man who wanted his neighbour’s wife?’ Coroner Richard asked Simon rhetorically, and continuedbefore Simon could respond. ‘He waited until his neighbour had gone on a journey, and then knocked on her door. “Madam,” hesaid, “I have fallen in love with you. My life holds no promise for me unless I can have you. I will do anything — commandme and give yourself to me!”

‘Well, this woman was honourable, and she was shocked to be addressed in this manner by her neighbour, so she gave him theturnabout right away. “I love my husband, and I’ve given him my vows. I won’t dishonour myself and betray him. Begone!”

‘So off he went, the flea biting his ear, until he had a thought. There was a clever woman in a wood not far away, and maybeshe could help. Off he went, and spoke to her thus: “Old woman, there is a wife I adore, but she will have nothing to do withme. I’ll die if I can’t have her. Is there anything you can do?”

‘The old woman looked him up and down, named her price, and when she had it in her purse she told him to wait there in hercottage. She took some string, and set it about the neck of a piglet, and walked off. When she approached the woman’s house, she rubbed soil in her hair and down her face,and pinched herself to make herself tearful, and then carried on, the piglet behind her.

‘ “Old woman, what is the matter?” the woman asked when she appeared.

‘ “My daughter! Look at her! Turned into a piglet by that evil man!”

‘ “What evil man? What has happened?”

‘This dishonourable old woman said: “A man arrived yesterday and no sooner had he seen my daughter than he decided he musthave her. He told her he would pine without her …”

‘ “But that is what happened to me!”

‘ “My daughter was a good, honourable chit, though, so she refused him.”

‘ “As did I.”

‘ “And although he told her that without her, his life would be worth naught, still she refused him. And when he set to herto try to force her, I beat him away. And as he went on his way, he roared at us most fearfully that if he couldn’t have her,nor would any other man. My daughter would henceforth be turned into a pig and would never know a man. And this morning … this morning, when I awoke … this had happened to my little child!”

‘The wife turned pale on hearing this, you see, and she cried out, “But this all happened to me! Good woman, tell me what I must do to save myself! There was a man here today who asked me to lie with him, and told me he would pine for love of meif he didn’t have my body, and I sent him away with every curse my heart could summon. What shall I do?”

‘ “Good wife, there is only one thing you may do: find him and promise you’ll do all he desires so long as he doesn’t turn you intoa sow.”

‘ “Should I leave at once?”

‘The old woman shook her head. “You wait here. I shall fetch him to you. I think he lives near here. Do you prepare yourselffor him.”

‘ “Old woman, you are kind.”

‘So the old woman sauntered back to her cottage and told him to get back to his neighbour’s house, and he had a high time. And it only goes to show, you see, that if you want a vain woman, while she tries to protect her looks there is always a wayto her heart!’

Simon looked up at him. ‘You think that was a joke?’

‘Just a story to lighten the heart,’ the Coroner declared confidently. ‘Hoi, host, where’s your wine all gone? Is your barrelempty that you leave your customers dying of thirst in this hovel? Eh? Ah, Bailiff, it is good to see you again. I like yourfriend the keeper, but he can be a cold soul of an evening. Much more fun to have a congenial companion.’

‘Yes,’ Simon said meaningfully. His own thoughts were on his wife again after that joke. At least Meg would never fall forso foolish a tale. Turned into a sow indeed!

‘Yes. I was not glad to be sent here just now.’

‘What did bring you?’ Simon enquired.

‘Ah, thank you, my fine fellow!’ Coroner Richard declared happily as more wine was poured into his jug. ‘To answer you honestly, Bailiff, I do not know. There must have been something, for the sheriff asked me to come here to meet him. When I arrived, I learned that the city’s coroners were both away, and as soon as I got here there were these bodies about the place, so it was fortunate I was here.’

‘But the sheriff …’

‘Saw me briefly at the bishop’s palace, then at the castle too, but that is it. Since then, nothing. Still don’t know whathe wanted with me.’

Hearing how his voice had grown quieter, Simon shot him a look. The coroner’s eyes held a cold glitter suddenly, as thoughhis thoughts were not pleasant to him. ‘What?’

‘Oh, nothing. Just musing,’ the coroner said. ‘Aha, who’s this?’

‘Baldwin!’ Simon said with relief. ‘It is good to see you once again.’

‘And you, old friend. This man is Art, son of Hal at the South Gate. He has an interesting tale to tell about a body or two.’

Christ Jesus, but his feet hurt! The way here with all the newer cobbles was hard on the feet, especially after two or threedays of solid walking. Rob didn’t know what was so exciting about marching from one town to another. From what he’d seen,walking and seeing other places was greatly over-valued. Better by far to stay in one place, and if you had to travel, thenbest to do so by ship. The less of this stomping over moors and cobbles, the better.

Where was he off to now? Rob watched as the little hunched figure of the monk scurried across the lane in front of a horse,which shied and made the rider curse, and thence passed over Carfoix and continued along the High Street towards the castleat the farther edge of the town.

‘Why couldn’t you stay at the bishop’s palace?’ he grumbled as he walked. ‘Hot rooms, beds, blankets, food, ale … what more does a man need?’

But the monk merely hurried onwards, and Rob had to stifle his complaints to keep up.

Simon had been quite explicit. ‘If he leaves the close, you have to stay with him. Don’t let him see you, but keep behindhim and watch where he goes and who he talks to. All right? If you do this well, there will be a reward for you. Fail, though,and you’ll get a thrashing!’

The threat was meaningless, as Rob knew perfectly well. The bailiff wasn’t the sort of man to punish a lad for trying hisbest and failing, but still he seemed to be happier for sounding like one of those modern knights who only ever knew how toget men to obey by threatening dire punishment.

If he were to be honest, he rather liked the tall, dark-haired bailiff. Simon Puttock was a great deal kinder than most mastershe’d seen before. Usually they would be content to issue a command once, and then beat a fellow with a suitable rod. Onlylast year a young apprentice had died after being whipped by his master. The man had explained that he had been trying toshow the boy the error of his ways after he had done something wrong — probably drank too much one evening or something. Therewere so many reasons why a master could beat his charges.

Puttock was different. There were times when he had been so bound up with his work that he had been ridiculously easy to fool. Usually when there were too many new ships in the port, all waiting for their goods to be assessed so that they might be unloaded. At times like that, Rob’s life was much easier. He could rise later and not worry about preparing too much food, for his masterwould snarl about going to a pie shop, he was in such a hurry, and that would be all. Still, the fact that he was trusted tended to make Rob more protective of his master, as though Simon was in facthis charge, not he his.

The monk passed through the castle gates and Rob could see him inside. He was speaking to a guard, but when he was finishedhe didn’t go to the steps that led to the little hall. Instead, he was taken to another building. Even Rob could recognisethe entrance to a small gaol-house. He watched as the monk entered, and then he sauntered over to a log by a wall to sit downand wait.

Bailiff Puttock would be interested in this, he reckoned.

There was a short pause after Art had told his story, and then Baldwin and the coroner glanced at each other and nodded.

‘He has some questions to answer,’ Coroner Richard acknowledged, and soon the three men were marching back down South Gate Street towards the old watchman’s house, Baldwin speaking quickly to Simon to explain what he and the coroner had alreadylearned.

‘The trouble is, old friend,’ he said as they approached the gatehouse itself and turned right to stand before Will Skinner’sdilapidated property, ‘we have no idea why anyone should want to harm a king’s messenger. The idea that a man should cut offa messenger’s fingers, too, is bizarre. I can only assume the fellow was being harmed in order to force him to answer somequestions — simple torture.’

‘Why would someone want to torture the messenger?’ Simon scoffed. ‘The pouch was there to be taken. No need to harm the fellowfirst.’

‘What if the messenger was aware of some other aspect to the note? Perhaps the bishop decided not to put all into writing? If there was some other part to the message that he dare not even commit to paper, something so dangerous that hecould only put it into the messenger’s head — what then? Perhaps a man might cut off his finger just to prove he was determinedenough to stop at nothing to learn what the messenger knew.’

‘It’s possible,’ Simon admitted. ‘But it is too wild. Who would have learned of something of that nature?’

‘If the bishop had a man in his room while he briefed the nuncius,’ Baldwin pointed out, ‘that man might have heard something. And then, if he had a brother, or a friend, out here in the cityitself, he might have been able to contact him, tell him to take this fellow …’

‘And then he caught the wrong man on the first night?’ the coroner rumbled.

‘Many thieves and felons are less bright than the common dog in the street,’ Baldwin pointed out. ‘It would not surprise meif one of them caught the wrong man. In the dark along an alley, they could have mistaken him, I suppose.’ In his mind hewas reviewing the two men: the messenger was a lot taller, but Baldwin knew that gauging a man’s height in the dark couldbe very difficult. Yes — it was possible.

Considering, Simon said, ‘It at least makes sense of the poor man’s losing his fingers, certainly. I’d be happier knowingthat there was someone in the bishop’s household who could have done such a thing, though. It is far-fetched to say that someonewas in a position to learn about this theoretical message, and happened to know a friend in the city who could kill the messenger. You might as well suggest some supernatural agent. What?’

Simon had caught sight of Baldwin’s quick look at the coroner. Coroner Richard grinned to himself and knocked on the door as Simon set his hands at his sword belt and glowered. ‘I wasn’t saying this was a ghost, Baldwin!’ He knew how his friend looked down upon the idea of malevolent spirits of any type. In Baldwin’s world,all was easily explained by rationality. ‘Look, all I was saying was, you may as well suggest that it was the devil who cameand killed the fellow. Until we have more information and a genuine possible suspect, I think that we ought to …’

‘Consider other possibilities. I know,’ Baldwin said coolly.

Simon was silent. He was annoyed at being treated so dismissively at first, but then he saw a strange look in the coroner’seye, a look almost of anxiety, and the sight was enough to make him pause. There was something about this matter that he wasnot yet aware of.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I can at least offer some help with the bishop. I have a young lad with me, and if Rob can’t sniff out aconspiracy at ten paces, no one can.’

‘You mean that boy from Dartmouth?’ Coroner Richard boomed unenthusiastically.

Simon shook his head. ‘Coroner, he has spent his life in the company of the most devious, thieving set of people in the realm- sailors. If he cannot recognise when someone sees the possibility of making money from a situation, I doubt if anyone can.’

‘Very well,’ Baldwin said. ‘Where is this fellow? Would he have gone on his rounds already?’

Art was leaning against the wall, picking his nose. He shrugged now and looked about him. ‘Doubt it. Too early for him. He’sprobably up at his old place.’

‘Where is that?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Where that man died — Mucheton.’

Coroner Richard’s face screwed up as his brows knotted. ‘What do you mean? Will used to live in that road?’

‘Yes. Before the fire. Then him and his wife had a good place up there. But the fire killed his family while he was out drinking. I was quite young then, but that’s what I heard.’

‘What do you want?’

The voice took Baldwin by surprise, and he could see that the coroner was struck the same way. Sir Richard’s head snappedround so quickly, Baldwin half-expected to hear the bones in his neck crack.

In the doorway was a bent figure. It was Will’s wife, Baldwin saw. ‘Mistress, we are looking for Will Skinner. Is he home?’

There was a faint light in her eyes as though she harboured some long-held hope, but as her gaze went from one to the other,the spark faded and she appeared to sag a little. ‘He’s not here. You want him, you go to where he left us that night.’

She walked with immense difficulty. One hand gripped the doorframe to steady her as she gazed at them all, her back so badlydeformed that her head would only have reached Baldwin’s middle chest.

‘He left you?’

‘To burn. Aye. I’m still his wife, but if I had courage I would leave him. He did this to me! I won’t suffer much longer,though. The good Lord will take me away from this vale of sin and horror. And I’ll be glad to leave!’

‘It must be hard to live here when you used to live so close by with all your family,’ Baldwin said. He was trying to soundunderstanding and compassionate, but even to his ears his words sounded empty and cold.

‘Hard?’ She looked up at him from her twisted frame. ‘Hard? You think it’s hard to lose everything? Yes. It’s hard.’

‘Mistress, I meant no offence to you. I was merely …’

‘Hard! Yes, we had a good life before. Will was a merchant and life was good. Yes, it was fine. We had our house, with threelittle children, and plenty of money coming in every day to support them all. Yes, it was good. And then one night my pathetic husband stayed out late to drink with his friends, and we had a fire. It took my children, it took our treasure, and it eventook my body. So now he’s a watchman and I’m the twisted wreck you see today. Burned until all my skin was falling away. Becausewhile my useless prickle of a husband was singing with his friends, I was in the house trying to save my children. But they’reall gone. All gone!’

‘Mistress, we shall leave you. I had no idea you were here. You have my deepest sympathy,’ Baldwin murmured.

Usually his calm and respectful manner would soothe even the most truculent woman, but this evening his words only inflamed Will’s wife.

‘You had no idea I was here? No, almost everyone thinks I’m dead. And they’re right! Yes, I’m dead. I’ve seen what hell is,fine sir. Yes, the devil has visited me once and taken my little sweetings, although he left me to suffer for them. And heleft me my husband, too, so that I might see every day the man who destroyed my life when he wasn’t there to save our children;and that I might make his life as miserable and cheerless as possible with my constant rebukes and sniping. Yes. The devilmade a fine job of me, didn’t he?’

Baldwin could not meet her eye. He turned and left, trying not to listen to the cackling laugh that followed him. ‘So, Keeper,’ the coroner asked as they trudged up South Gate Street, ‘Should we wander up that alley to find Will now?’

Baldwin stopped and glanced back at Will’s house. ‘In Christ’s name, the poor devil has enough already with her in his home. No. We can speak to him later.’

Simon felt only relief to hear that, thinking he could do with some sleep. But when he caught a glimpse of the coroner’s sturdyframe, he began to wonder. He had had experience of ‘quiet’ evenings with the coroner.

At least the drinking was delayed a little when they reached the door of the inn and Rob called to him.

‘I think you’ll be interested in this.’