Crown in Darkness

escort was often no more than two men. Then, I suppose, you were given an opportunity. The Princess Yolande would not agree to consummating her marriage to Alexander. For what reason, neither you nor I really know, but the young princess's refusal provided you with a plan. You probably asked Seton to persuade the King to convoke the Council late in the afternoon of March 18th. The reason for the Council was petty enough, the imprisonment of a Scottish baron in England. Alexander was probably bored and only too willing to hold a meeting which might free one of his subjects, especially as the discussion was suggested by no less a person than Edward's envoy in Scotland. At the Council meeting you took Alexander aside with the important news that Queen Yolande urgently wanted to see him that night, sent her excuses for her recent bad behaviour and urged the king to join her the same day at Kinghorn.' Benstede snorted with laughter. 'But that is ridiculous,' he interjected. 'I would be the last person Queen Yolande would confide in.' 'Yes, I agree,' answered Corbett. 'But you did visit her the day before the Council meeting. You probably extended diplomatic courtesies. The Queen would say something which you later enhanced into a loving, intimate invitation. If your plan went awry you could always claim that it was the Queen who had misinformed you and so exacerbate Alexander's rage and frustration against her. You see, I know from the King's own confessor, Father John, that Alexander was so tired of his Queen's petulant protests and refusals that he was considering sending this confessor to Rome to ask the Pope for an annulment of his marriage on the grounds of non-consummation and permission to marry again, this time another French princess who might be more accommodating. You may have even known of this. I suspect you did and so time was of the essence. You gave the invitation to the King, asked him to keep the matter private and urged him to leave the Council as soon as possible for Kinghorn Ness. Meanwhile you had already left, accompanied by that misbegotten servant of yours. You travelled to Queensferry but did not ask the ferryman to take you across the Forth. You asked the other man, the one you had deceived into believing you were French. He rowed you across in the storm, landed you at a secret place where you had horses already tethered and you rode through the night to the top of Kinghorn Ness. There, just where the plateau dips towards the beach, you fastened a rope and took your place across the path in some bushes. It must have been a long, cold and wet wait but eventually the King appeared.' 'This is nonsense!' interrupted Benstede. 'How was I to know that the King would come without an escort? How was I to see him in the dark? How could I distinguish him from any of his retinue?' 'Oh, that was quite simple,' replied Corbett. 'It would be dark on any March night on the top of Kinghorn Ness, that a violent storm was raging was an added advantage. As for the King's escort? You knew only too well Alexander's habits and ways. At the very utmost he would take two or even three men with him. One squire did actually pass the place, Patrick Seton, but his horse did not stumble across your trap because the rope lay slack upon the ground. When the King appeared, riding at breakneck speed, you or your servant, Aaron, jerked the rope up. The horse, galloping so quickly, simply stumbled and fell over the edge of the precipice taking the King with him.' Corbett took a deep breath and peered out of the cell's one and only narrow slit window. 'Of course,' Corbett continued, 'it would be easy for you to see the King. He was riding through the black night but his horse was white. You made sure that the horse the purveyor brought to the port of Inverkeithing was light-coloured.' 'And how did I manage that?' Benstede mocked. 'I have no authority to issue orders to members of King Alexander's household.' 'Oh, you are right,' Corbett retorted. 'But you used the other ferryman, Taggart, to take you across the Forth. He thought you were a Frenchman and you used this disguise to make preparations on the other side of the Firth. On the morning of the 18th March I know that Taggart took you, still posing as a Frenchman, across to Kinghorn, but no Frenchman arrived at the manor. Instead an anonymous courier delivered a message saying the King was preparing to come there and the purveyor was instructed to bring down the King's favourite white mare, Tamesin, to Inverkeithing.' 'But the letter!' Benstede interrupted. 'I could not forge that.' His voice trailed off as he realised his mistake. 'I never said anything about a letter,' Corbett quickly replied, 'but, yes, a letter was sent, a forgery, no real feat for a trained clerk. I suspect you or Aaron delivered it at the royal manor gate. Anyway,' Corbett continued, 'you ensured the white mare, Tamesin, was brought down. On such a mount the King would be an easy target against the dark sky. Once the King had fallen, you' unfastened the rope and slipped back to where your ferry was waiting for you. Taggart then rowed you back and, once his task was finished, you murdered him, the two of you together holding his head beneath the water until he drowned. After which, you beached and tied up his craft to look as if he had never left in the first place, and returned to Edinburgh. In the consequent confusion which broke out the following morning no one would notice your comings and goings.' Corbett noticed that Benstede was nervously biting his lower lip. 'There was no reason,' Corbett continued, 'for anyone to suspect you. You were probably elated at the news that Erceldoun had got lost in the storm but became alarmed when Seton began to mumble about shadows on Kinghorn Ness. Perhaps the young man had seen something? Perhaps he might recover and start asking questions or making statements? So you murdered him!' 'How,' Benstede almost shouted. 'How could I murder him? He never left his room! There was no mark of violence found upon his corpse!' 'You sent him presents,' replied Corbett, 'apples and a pair of gloves.' 'You are not saying that the food was poisoned, are you?' Benstede jibed. 'I know,' Corbett replied, 'the fruit was wholesome. Erceldoun probably ate more of the apples than Seton ever did. It was the gloves which were poisoned. You sent them as a gift but you are a doctor, Master Benstede. You told me so yourself. You know about herbs, poisons and their antidotes from your studies at Salerno in Italy. You simply had the gloves coated with a deadly poison, and waited for Seton to wear them.' 'A sick man!' screeched Benstede. 'Wearing gloves!' 'A bored, ill man,' replied Corbett. 'He would at least try them on. Handle them. You or your servant, Aaron, would have made sure of that when you visited him.' 'So where are these gloves?' jibed Benstede. 'Oh, you made sure they disappeared,' Corbett replied. 'I looked at the list of goods and chattels belonging to Seton. There was no mention of any gloves. I am sure you had them removed. The rest is quite simple,' Corbett continued. 'The poison was transferred to Seton's fingers and, when he ate, the poison acted quickly. You are right to say that poison leaves little trace upon a body but it does halt the corruption of the corpse and I noticed this when I opened Seton's tomb in St. Giles' graveyard. Of course,' Corbett said emphatically, 'you wanted to remove any interference in your plan and that included me. When I arrived in Edinburgh you immediately became suspicious, so you showed me the draft of your letter to King Edward. You wanted to find out if the King had sent me, that is why you told him about me. If I had objected to such an innocuous statement then you would have had immediate satisfaction. Even so, the King would be curious and puzzled and probably order Burnell to recall me. As matters stand, I suspect the Chancellor has intercepted your letter and, if Edward ever gets to know that I am in Scotland, Burnell will fabricate some acceptable and reasonable explanation. Naturally,' Corbett added, 'you were alarmed at my interest in Alexander's death, so you brought along that old fool of a royal physician, MacAirth. He had examined the royal corpse and found nothing amiss. You thought he would calm all my anxieties. Of course he did not. The old fool, carried away by his own arrogance and a skinful of wine, babbled on and left me more curious. Even so, before this happened, you had already decided I was too dangerous. The night the Council held a banquet in the main hall of the castle, you, or Aaron, used the fight which broke out there as a cover to assassinate me. You have never taken a drug, I suspect, and neither have I, Master Benstede, until I arrived in Scotland.' Corbett looked at Benstede's pasty face but continued remorselessly. 'I was given a drug miles away from here but in a place you might feel at home in. Under its influence, I remembered standing by the pillar at that banquet and seeing Aaron glaring at me through the crowd, I now know he tried to kill me and when you saw me talking to Erceldoun, you decided he would have to die as well. Just as you tried to kill me on four occasions.' 'That is preposterous!' broke in Benstede. 'Erceldoun was a soldier. He was strangled, garrotted in St. Giles Church! No one would suspect me of having the strength to kill such a man, even if you imply that Aaron was my accomplice!' 'Oh, you are right,' Corbett smilingly replied. 'The coroner's report stated that Erceldoun was going down to St. Giles to see a priest. You are that priest, Master Benstede. A good friend of the late Patrick Seton, Erceldoun would not expect to meet his death at your hands. That wretched man entered the church of St. Giles and you were awaiting him at the entrance to the chancel. You possibly suggested that you wished to talk to him about the events on Kinghorn Ness? Perhaps a prayer for the late King or for the unfortunate Patrick Seton? Erceldoun would kneel, close his eyes, you would begin to pray aloud while you slipped the garrotte round his neck. It would not take you long. When I opened his grave I inspected the weal round his neck and saw the indentations caused by the very cord you now wear round your waist!' Benstede looked down in surprise and nervously fingered the knotted, tasselled cord round his middle. 'Very few people,' remarked Corbett, 'wear such a cord with similar knots. I noticed it the night of the banquet. You used that on Thomas Erceldoun and it left its own unique imprint upon his throat.' Corbett looked at Benstede, who was beginning to regain his composure as he realised the Scots could do little whilst he answered to no one except the English king. 'Really, Master Corbett,' he said softly, 'the only person who should have died was you with your searching questions and inquisitive ways.' 'You certainly tried,' Corbett tartly replied. 'In fact your attempts, or rather one of them, convinced me of your guilt. The dagger thrown in the hall could have been an accident or the work of the French.The attack on the road from Leith