Heartstone (Matthew Shardlake #5)(129)
‘It was the hunt today.’ Fulstowe looked narrowly at Ettis. ‘Surely you had not forgotten that?’
‘I thought you might be back and this matter can’t wait. We need an answer from you.’ He looked over the little crowd, stared again at Hobbey and David. ‘Has something happened?’
‘Mistress Hobbey is dead,’ Fulstowe replied bluntly.
Ettis stared. ‘What?’
‘Shot dead with an arrow by an unknown assailant. Which way did you come to the house, Ettis?’
The yeoman’s eyes widened. ‘You – do you accuse me?’
Corembeck stepped forward. ‘Which way did you come, Ettis?’
Ettis glared at him. ‘From the village.’
‘Not through the woods?’
‘No!’
‘Alone?’ Fulstowe asked.
Ettis took a step forward and for a moment I thought he would strike the steward. Then he turned and marched away down the drive. Dyrick looked meaningfully at Corembeck.
We walked into the hall, where Priddis and his son sat waiting. Fulstowe told them what had happened. I saw the old man’s eyes light up with greedy curiosity. For him, I realized, this was an unexpected piece of excitement.
I WENT UPSTAIRS to change for my ride with Edward Priddis. I felt guilty now for wanting to stay. Barak wanted so much to return to Tamasin. Looking out of the window, I remembered, sadly, Feaveryear and the two boys practising at the butts. David and Hugh had both disappeared to their rooms when we returned; I did not know who, if anyone, was with them.
When I went back downstairs Sir Quintin was still ensconced in his chair by the fireplace with his son, watching all that was going on with horrible amused interest. I asked Barak to stay in the great hall, and listen to all that was said. Edward rose and we went to fetch the horses. As we rode out, Edward’s manner was cool and distant, but civil enough.
‘This is a terrible thing for you to find here,’ I said.
He nodded seriously. ‘These are strange and dreadful times.’
‘What news of the French in Portsmouth?’ I asked.
‘They say their fleet has been sighted off the Sussex coast. People are becoming fearful.’
‘Yes, there is much fear underneath people’s show of confidence.’
‘Nonetheless,’ he said firmly, ‘we must face whatever comes.’
I studied him. Edward had bushy eyebrows like his father, and a firm, obstinate set to his mouth. ‘I believe your father knows Sir Richard Rich,’ I said.
He gave me a wintry smile. ‘Yes, he is an old acquaintance. We met and had a talk with him at the Portsmouth Guildhall. The day you brought Hugh Curteys there. I hear the merchants who have overcharged the army or provided bad food come to Sir Richard Rich in fear and trembling. I imagine he will soon cut through their excuses about having to charge more because of the new coinage. Sir Richard learned the art of interrogation under a master. Cromwell. But you will know that.’ Again that wintry smile, a piercing look from those blue eyes.
‘Rich spoke of me?’
Edward smiled coldly. ‘A little. He asked my father about the case you have on down here. He said you can become – very strongly involved with your clients.’
‘No bad thing in a lawyer, surely, Brother.’ I inclined my head, hiding the anxiety I felt at Rich’s continued interest in me.
‘True.’
‘Did you qualify at Gray’s Inn, like your father?’
‘I did. I worked on official service in London for a while. After a few years I came back to Winchester, to help Father in his work.’
‘You must do the bulk of it now, I hazard.’
‘Oh, Father still holds the reins. I am but his trusty steed.’ I caught a note of bitterness. Are you waiting to succeed him? I wondered.
‘Look over to your right, Brother,’ I said. ‘Those are Hugh Curteys’ lands that were cleared some years ago.’
We came to a halt, near the area of cleared woodland Barak and I had seen on our ride. New trees, little more than saplings, stood amid thick undergrowth and the mossy stumps of old trees. It was hot, still and quiet. I said, ‘I think there was more oak in this land than the accounts allow.’
‘And the evidence for that?’ Edward asked sharply.
‘The fact the uncleared area of woodland to the south has a great deal of oak.’
‘The soil may be different.’
‘It looked very similar when I rode through it a few days ago.’
‘The day an arrow was shot at you?’ He looked at me curiously.
‘Yes. Everyone thought it was a poacher. But after today I wonder.’
‘A madman roaming these woods,’ Edward mused. He glanced apprehensively at the distant trees.
‘Sir Luke seems to think he has his suspect.’
‘He may be wrong. Perhaps some deserter from the army is in hiding out in the trees. He tried to kill you, then came across poor Mistress Hobbey. He may have wished to rob her.’
‘I do not believe she had a purse with her. The family would have noticed if one was gone.’
‘Still, you will forgive me if I say I would like to keep the inspection brief.’
‘This area is quite open, and we are out of bowshot from the trees. I suggest we ride through the cleared area, look at how many oak stumps we can see.’