Heartstone (61 page)

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
murder
her?'

‘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.'

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 in the vicarage there.'

Barak squinted at the building. ‘Looks tumbledown.'

‘It is. So is he, I'm afraid.'

He said quietly, ‘There's a woman looking at us from the doorway of that inn.'

I glanced across. The old woman who had introduced me to Wilf was standing in the doorway, arms folded, looking at us coldly.

‘That's the woman who introduced me to Wilf Harrydance. I don't think I'm popular here either. I doubt we'll get rooms there tonight.'

‘Then where will we sleep? It's been a long ride.'

‘Maybe Seckford can help us. Come, we follow that path to the church.'

We rode up to the vicarage and tied the horses up outside. They were tired and dusty, as were we. As we walked up the path, I looked at the cherry tree and wondered if Seckford still kept to his resolution not to drink before the shadows reached a certain length. I knocked on the door and heard the old man's shuffling steps. He opened it, and his plump face broke into a look of relief. ‘You came, sir,' he said. ‘Thank God.' He saw Barak and asked sharply, ‘Who is this?'

‘My assistant.'

The curate nodded. ‘I am sorry, only we have been worried. Come in. Wilf has been here most of the morning, hoping you would come -' I caught a whiff of Seckford's breath, and guessed the two old men had already been sharing a drink. He led us into the shabby parlour. Wilf Harrydance rose from a stool. His big dog, which had been lying at his side, got up and wagged its tail. The bright eyes in Wilf's thin, weathered face were anxious. ‘I didn't think you'd come, sir,' he said, ‘not after my sons ... I am sorry for that, they were only trying to protect me-'

‘I understand, Wilf.'

‘What news of the French?' Seckford asked.

‘They are said to be sailing up the Channel towards Portsmouth.'

‘God help us all. Please, sit down.'

We sat gratefully on the settle, raising little clouds of dust. ‘A drink, sirs?' Seckford asked, reaching for the jug on the buffet.

‘Yes, please,' Barak answered. ‘We're parched.'

Seckford poured two beers, his hands shaking even more than I remembered. He brought them over, then sat in his chair. Wilf glanced at the curate, who leaned forward. Mildly drunk as he was, there was a new keenness and authority in Seckford's voice.

‘After your visit, Master Shardlake, Master Buttress was going all over the town, trying to find out who had been telling you about the fire. He knew you had spoken to me, and came here in a great rage, saying you seemed to be querying his ownership of his house.'

‘I did no such thing. I only told him you had told me the old story. I am sorry, I should have let you know before I left.' I looked at Wilf. ‘I did not say I had spoken to you.'

‘He came to the inn and asked me, though. He knows I've always thought Priddis covered something up at that inquest. I said I had not spoken with you. It made me uneasy, sir.'

Seckford added, ‘Master Buttress is a hard man, with much power in this town. Forgive me, sir, but I must ask. Were you really enquiring about the Fettiplace family on behalf of a client looking for relatives?'

I took a deep breath. ‘No. Forgive me for misleading you, but I am trying to find out what happened to Ellen Fettiplace, for - personal reasons.'

‘You told an untruth, sir.'

‘I did. I am sorry.'

‘You are not acting for anyone else? Priddis, for example?'

‘No, I promise. No one else at all. I can say no more, but I will happily swear on the Bible that I am acting only from personal interest and concern, because of some information that came my way in London indicating that something was indeed covered up at that inquest. But I do not know what, and it may be unsafe to say more. Please, sir, fetch your bible and I will swear.'

‘I told you there was more to it,' Wilf said.

‘And I told you Master Shardlake was a good man. I believe you, sir, there is no need to swear.' Seckford looked at Wilf, then clasped his hands together. ‘You are a lawyer, sir. Am I right, then, that you could take Wilf on as a client, advise him about a certain problem he has, and would then be bound by an oath of confidentiality, as I am in confession?'

‘Yes, that is true.' I looked at Wilf. ‘But this matter - if is it anything to do with who started the fire at the foundry, I could not keep it secret.'

‘It isn't.' Wilf shook his head vigorously. ‘It's about something I found.'

Seckford said, ‘It concerns the circumstances in which Wilf found it.'

‘Then I will do what I can to advise you.'

Seckford said, ‘I heard that for a lawyer to be bound to a client money has to pass.'

‘That is not strictly true. I can act
pro bono
, for the public good.'

‘I'd rather money changed hands,' Wilf said firmly. ‘In front of Master Seckford.' He reached to the purse at his belt and pulled out a sixpence, an old coin of true silver. ‘Is this enough?' he asked.

I hesitated, then reached out and took the coin. ‘Yes. There, Wilf, you are my client. By law I may not reveal anything you tell me, to anyone.'

Wilf took a deep breath, then bent to pat the big dog. ‘Me and Caesar here, this time of year we go hunting for truffles in the woods. Master Buttress owns the woods now, and everything in them. Though he talks of having them cut down to sell the timber, he's still jealous of his property.'