dismissively.
BARAK AND I left for Rolfswood early the next morning. I could have done without another ride; my bandaged arm was sore and my back ached after the hunt. The weather was close again, the sky grey.
I said little as we rode; Hobbey's words the previous day had unsettled me. I had told myself I had only encouraged Ettis against a bullying landlord, that David could have had a seizure at any time, and above all that nobody knew who had killed Abigail, or why. But I could understand why Hobbey might see me as his nemesis.
The evening before I had written to Warner, telling him what had happened. I told him too about Dyrick's offer on costs. Then I wrote to Guy, saying we were not coming home just yet. Afterwards I walked round to the stables to fetch the letter Barak had written to Tamasin; we would leave them at Cosham for the post rider to collect. On my way out I passed David's room, and heard deep, wrenching sobs, Fulstowe's voice talking in low, reassuring tones.
On my way back to the house with the letters I saw Hugh in the distance, sitting on the half-tumbled wall of the old nuns' cemetery. I went up to him. His long face was sad, his mouth pulled down. He looked up at me, a dreadful weariness in his eyes.
'My condolences,' I said quietly.
He bowed his head slightly. In the fading light his scars could not be clearly seen, he looked boyishly handsome but somehow all the more vulnerable. 'Thank you,' he said, 'but you should know I felt nothing for Mistress Hobbey. I thought I might, now, but I do not.'
'You put a flower in her lap this morning.'
'Yes. I felt sorry for her then.'
I said quietly, 'You were saying something when we came on you with the body.' I looked him in the eye. 'It sounded like, 'You deserved this.' '
He was silent a moment, then said, 'God preserve me, I may have done.' He stared ahead.
'Why?'
He spoke very quietly. 'When we first knew her, I think in her way she did want to mother me, and especially my sister. But for both her and Master Hobbey, that came second to—' his voice caught for a moment—'to money. They wanted the use of our lands, and they tried to make Emma marry David, as I told you. When I saw her I felt sorry for her but angry too. So, yes, I did say that.'
'Have you ever seen a dead person before?'
'Yes. My mother and father. They would not let me see my sister—her face was ravaged by smallpox. I wish they had.' He looked at me. 'Will you tell the coroner of my words?'
'I think you should tell him yourself, Hugh. Tell him how you felt about Abigail.'
He looked at me hard. I wondered whether, like Hobbey, he was thinking of all the trouble that had come here since I arrived.
I asked him, 'Who do you think murdered Mistress Hobbey?'
'I have no idea.' He frowned. 'Do you believe it was me?'
I shook my head. 'Like you, Hugh, I have no idea.' I looked across at the graveyard. Ursula had left some flowers at the nun's grave again.
'But you heard my words, and thought it might be me?' Hugh's face flushed with anger, highlighting his scars.
'I only wondered, Hugh, what you meant.'
'You said you would be my friend.' He stood then, clenching his fists. I was aware that he was as tall as me, and stronger.
'I accuse no one, Hugh. But from the beginning I have sensed this entire family has been hiding something. As well as David's condition.'
'You are wrong,' he said.
'I rode your lands with Edward Priddis today. I believe Master Hobbey has been falsifying his accounts. Probably in league with Sir Quintin. I think they may have robbed you of hundreds of pounds.'
An expression of contempt crossed his face. 'When will you realize, sir, I care naught, one way or the other? And now, Master Shardlake, please leave me alone.'
ON THE RIDE we saw more supply carts heading south, carrying everything from carpenters' equipment to pikes and helmets. We pulled in to allow another company of archers to pass. I wondered how Leacon's company was faring, whether they had been on board the ships yet.
Around noon we turned into the road to Sussex. We stopped for some food at the inn I had visited on my previous journey. 'You've been very quiet,' Barak said to me over his beer. 'You have that inward expression you wear when something bites at you.'
'I am thinking I have done little but make enemies since I came to Hoyland.' I told him of my talk with Hugh, and of Hobbey saying I was his nemesis. 'Hobbey set me wondering whether, if I had never come, Abigail might still be alive.'
'Something was likely to happen to that family sooner or later. They are all as mad as a box of frogs.'
'Who killed Abigail, Jack? Hobbey was right—everyone disliked her—but to
'They'll set Ettis up for it if they can.'
'I think Dyrick is considering just that possibility. But there's no evidence.'
'Juries get rigged in these country places. If you want to do something useful, see the inquest is handled lawfully.'
'Yes. And you are right about the family. Their relationships are so—distorted—I cannot help thinking someone in that house killed her.'
'But who?'
'Fulstowe has a lot of power there for a steward. When servants have power over an employer it is usually because they know a secret. One they would not wish to risk through an unstable woman blurting it out.'
'But what secret?'
'I don't know.' I looked at him. 'Thank you again for coming with me.'
'Truth to tell, if I was there I would only be pacing around waiting for another messenger. I'm famished for news of Tamasin.'
'Maybe even the royal messengers are finding it hard to get through.'
'If only I could get home,' he said with sudden intensity.
I smiled sadly. 'Is it not strange how even in death, poor Abigail seems to be a nuisance to everyone? She was killed by an archer of some skill. But that covers so many possibilities. The boys, Fulstowe, Ettis. Even Dyrick said he was once a skilled archer and is teaching his children.'
'But not Hobbey?'
I shook my head. 'He does not have the skill or the—the passion, that is the word. It was a passionate, angry act. Someone who knew he would be hanged if he were caught but, at the moment he saw her at least, did not care.'
'Not old Ursula then. She hated Abigail all right, but I can't see her pulling a bow.'
'Now you are being foolish.' I drained my mug of beer. 'Come, we should be back on the road.'
'Only trying to lighten your mood a little. God knows we could both do with it.'
Chapter Thirty-three
IT WAS MID-AFTERNOON when we reached Rolfswood. The clouds had thickened; it looked as though another summer rainstorm was on the way. The little town presented the same sleepy aspect it had before. I pointed out Buttress's house. 'That was once Ellen's. He got it cheap. He's a friend of Priddis, or was.'
'Could he be paying Ellen's fees at the Bedlam as part of some deal?'
I shook my head. 'The house is not worth that much.' I pointed over the fields to the church. 'Seckford lives
