Hymn to Murder by Paul Doherty

Author:Paul Doherty [Doherty, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, Detective
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2020-07-22T16:00:00+00:00

PART FOUR

It included twelve jugs and in every jug he put some jewels.

For the rest of the day Corbett busied himself about the chamber. He studied certain missives dispatched to him and also insisted that he sift through all Lord Simon’s chancery records. Ranulf assisted him, but they found nothing significant. The records were banal and boring. Corbett did wonder if Lady Isabella and her henchman had inspected the manor muniments and removed anything contentious, but there was no proof of this, so he let the matter rest. He retired early that evening, only to be aroused before dawn by the tocsin pealing out across the manor. The chapel bell clanged ominously, its metallic sound drowning all others. Corbett quickly dressed. He ordered Chanson to stay and guard the chamber, and hurried down to the hall, where Ranulf was waiting, warming himself in front of the fire. The clerk greeted him and pointed to the tiled passageway leading to the kitchens, buttery and other cooking chambers.

‘The larder for dried meats,’ he whispered, then paused at a crashing sound that echoed hollowly across the hall. ‘Apparently,’ he declared, ‘it’s locked and bolted—’

‘Come,’ Corbett interrupted.

They strode across into the passageway, where manor servants were being shooed away by Brockle, all anxious, his face sheened with a fine sweat. He gestured down the gloomy corridor.

‘Lady Isabella, Parson Osbert and Malach are there.’

Corbett hurried on around the corner to where a group of servants were lifting a long bench, which they were using to batter down a strong reinforced door.

‘Sir Hugh.’ Lady Isabella beckoned him forward. She told the servants to pause and pointed down at the blood seeping like wine across the dirty white tiles. ‘It’s Colum the cook. Yes?’ She turned to a morose, unshaven Malach.

‘He went in there just before dawn,’ the henchman declared. ‘I was preparing to welcome Parson Osbert, who had kindly agreed to celebrate a memorial mass for Lord Simon.’

‘Yes, that was my idea.’ Isabella suppressed a shiver, her lovely face pallid and drawn. ‘Colum was to prepare meats and pastries to break our fast.’

‘And this passageway was deserted?’

‘Of course. This is the larder of dried meats, nothing more than a storeroom. I suppose we never gave it a second thought. Anyway, Colum went in and never came out.’

‘I went to see what was happening,’ Malach declared. ‘I tried the door, I knocked on it, and then I stared down. I saw the blood seeping out so I raised the alarm. I am sorry,’ he added in a mutter. ‘Perhaps I created more chaos, and yet what I saw . . .’ The henchman stepped closer and stared fixedly at Corbett. ‘You know,’ he grated, ‘you must do, what waits for us behind that door. A corpse! Another murder! Little wonder my mistress . . .’ He turned and stared at Lady Isabella.

‘Mistress, do you want to flee? Do you want to leave this place?’

‘Sir Hugh, at this moment, yes, but shall we deal with this first?’

Corbett agreed, and the pounding on the door continued.

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