Deadly Inheritance

‘He was inferring nothing,’ said Joan, also standing. Ralph sank down again when she took a step towards him. ‘It is your hostile manner that makes us not want to believe her.’

Ralph became piqued, but continued the tale. ‘Agnes and I were longer than we intended with the hats, and only became aware of the time when Douce disturbed us.’

‘They did not appear at breakfast,’ added Walter. Geoffrey saw that he was jealous of the time his mother had spent with Ralph and was determined to make them suffer. ‘And this examination of headwear began the previous night, so Ralph must have a lot of hats.’

‘Where were you all that time?’ asked Geoffrey, supposing Ralph and Agnes had lingered under the blankets while the other guests had returned to Goodrich. Or had they? It was equally possible that one had slipped out and stuck a knife in the hapless Hugh, although he could not imagine why. Unless, of course, Hugh had witnessed something sensitive during the fire at Dene, and someone had decided to silence him for it.

‘I slept in Bicanofre’s hall,’ replied Walter sullenly. ‘But I kept myself to myself and spoke to no one. I was not in the mood for idle chatter.’

Geoffrey was sure he was not, while his mother frolicked in bed with Ralph. But his lack of an alibi was unfortunate nonetheless.

‘Why did you not accompany them?’ Giffard demanded of Ralph. ‘It sounds as though it was your fault they were delayed.’

‘Because Douce was fretting about Eleanor,’ said Ralph curtly. ‘And I was obliged to calm her. I followed as soon as I could.’

‘When we reached the ford, we spotted someone lying face-down in the shallows,’ continued Walter. ‘I thought it was a peasant at first, who had fallen in a drunken stupor and drowned. I dismounted to look and recognized Hugh. There was a great bloody wound between his shoulder blades. We started back for Bicanofre for help.’

‘We met on the road,’ finished Ralph. ‘I begged a cart from Walecford and arranged to have the body taken to the village church.’

Geoffrey was thoughtful. Others had returned earlier than Agnes and Walter, and if the body had been at the ford then, they would have seen it first. He concluded that Hugh had been killed not during the night, but some time that morning.

‘Who do you think is responsible for Hugh’s death?’ he asked.

Ralph’s expression was spiteful. ‘That is for you to find out, King’s man. All I can say is it was not me.’

‘It must have been Eleanor,’ said Agnes, ‘as Walter suggested. She is missing, too, and we all know the kind of thing she does when alone in the forest.’

There was a general murmur of agreement. ‘I am afraid it is true,’ said Ralph. ‘My sister is in the habit of disappearing into the woods on occasion, and she does have a penchant for un Christian activities.’

Geoffrey gazed at him with dislike. He felt sorry for Eleanor, having a brother who thought nothing of tossing her to the wolves on the whim of his latest lover. It was clear that he was besotted with Agnes, who no doubt intended to keep him that way until she no longer needed a protector.

‘But you can see why we are worried,’ Agnes was saying to Giffard. ‘I have been accused of murder ever since I arrived, so I am the obvious scapegoat here.’

‘Baderon will want someone hanged,’ agreed Ralph.

‘Baderon does not hang innocent people,’ declared Joan, casting an icy glance towards fitzNorman, to indicate the same could not be said of him. ‘If you have done nothing wrong, you have nothing to worry about.’

‘Hugh was his only son,’ said Ralph. ‘He will lash out at anyone available. And do not think you are immune from his wrath, Geoffrey. I shall point out that it is easy to kill a man on Goodrich land, then dump the body elsewhere.’

Geoffrey met his gaze evenly. ‘But it would not be true.’

Ralph shrugged. ‘Perhaps not, but it will make him think twice about accusing Agnes. Or me.’

‘So,’ Geoffrey surmised, treating Ralph with the contempt he deserved by ignoring him. ‘Hugh disappeared after the fire, only to appear stabbed at the ford. Eleanor is still missing, which may mean she is the culprit, but which may equally mean she is dead, too. We should look for her, if for no other reason than she might need help.’

‘I will go,’ offered Giffard. ‘I will ride that donkey to the forest and try to find her.’

‘I do not suppose the killer left his knife in Hugh, did he?’ asked Geoffrey hopefully. Knives were distinctive, and finding the murder weapon might result in an early solution.

‘Yes,’ came the unexpected reply from Walter. ‘It was still in his back when we found him – before we rushed back towards Bicanofre for help.’

‘It was a horrible thing,’ said Agnes with a shudder. ‘A long dagger with a ruby in its hilt.’

‘But someone stole it,’ finished Walter. ‘By the time we returned, it was gone. A greedy peasant must have grabbed it.’

Geoffrey was unconvinced by Walter’s claim – local people would recognize Hugh and would appreciate the danger of stealing a murder weapon. Even the greediest would think twice, since it would be distinctive and difficult to sell. It occurred to Geoffrey that the killer might have been nearby when Walter and Agnes had stumbled on the body, and had retrieved his dagger after they had gone. Or were they lying? It was no secret that Henry had been killed with a similar blade, so perhaps they had described it to create confusion, and thus divert suspicion from themselves.

Geoffrey travelled the short distance to Walecford to inspect the body himself. He took Durand with him, because Bale was helping Peter in the kitchens, using his sharp knives to slice onions. He tensed when he saw Corwenna and Seguin behind them, wondering if they intended to ambush him, but they turned left at the first fork in the road, while he went right.

‘She is going back to Llan Martin,’ explained Durand. ‘She has been telling everyone she will not wait at Goodrich to be stabbed by Mappestones. The King ordered her to stay here, but clearly she considers herself exempt from the commands of a king.’

Geoffrey was thoughtful. ‘I heard her tell Seguin that Henry will not reign for much longer.’

‘I heard her, too,’ said Durand. ‘The woman is mad to make such statements in the earshot of loyal subjects.’

Hugh was no more attractive in death than he had been in life, his jaw hanging open and his eyes glazed slits. Geoffrey asked Durand to stand guard at the church door, to tell him if anyone was coming, then began his examination. He quickly learnt that Hugh had been killed by a single stab wound to the back. The weapon had made an oval injury, with sharp V-shaped incisions at the top and bottom. It told Geoffrey that its blade was double- edged, a killing weapon rather than an everyday knife.

He inspected Hugh’s hands and arms, looking for marks to indicate that he had fought his attacker, but there was nothing. Then he examined Hugh’s head, to check whether he had first been subdued, and came across a lump. Finally, he assessed his neck, and was startled to see the clear imprint of fingers. Geoffrey sat back on his heels. It seemed to him that someone had hit Hugh on the head, hard enough to stun him, and then strangled him. The knife wound had merely been for show.

He frowned as he considered further. According to the King, the ruby-hilted dagger should be in Baderon’s possession. Did that mean Baderon had killed his own son? Or had someone in his household murdered Hugh, using the weapon Baderon had been to such pains to acquire? But who? One of his knights, on the grounds that their master would have more property to give away with the lawful heir dead? Or Hilde, so she would inherit all?

‘What are you doing?’

The appalled voice behind him made him jump violently. Unsure of how to reply, he said nothing. He glanced angrily at Durand for letting Hilde past in the first place, but Durand only shrugged, to convey that he had been unable to stop her. Geoffrey’s spirits plummeted further still when he saw that Hilde was not alone: Baderon and Lambert were with her.

‘No!’ groaned Baderon, dropping to his knees. ‘Not Hugh!’

‘Who did this?’ Hilde demanded coldly. ‘And what are you doing here? Joan sent word to tell us Hugh was found, but she did not warn us that ghouls would be poring over his poor corpse.’