Read Online The Manor of Death by Bernard Knight - Free Book Online
Authors: Bernard Knight
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aware that those two would be fully informed within minutes of everything that went on in Axmouth.
The bailiff scowled at him suspiciously, an attitude that seemed almost permanent with him. 'Simon Makerel was a shipman upon the vessel. What else is there to know?'
'The cog herself, damn you,' snapped de Wolfe irritably. 'I know her name and that of the shipmaster, Martin Rof. But who owned her, where had she been on the last voyage and where has she gone now?'
It was the portreeve who answered this. He rolled up his parchment and stood it on end on the table before getting up from his stool.
' The Tiger belongs to Robert de Helion, a manor-lord who lives in Exeter, though his lands are scattered about this county and that of Dorset.'
De Wolfe knew of de Helion, but he had no closer acquaintance with him. He knew he was a rich merchant as well as a landowner but had no idea he ran ships as well. 'And what about this cog, when will she be back?'
He received the same reply as the one he had got on the quayside.
'She came in here last week from Barfleur with wine and dried fruit - and has taken wool and some tin over to Calais. Who can tell when she will return? It depends on what cargoes the master can find across the Channel.'
The coroner glowered at the pair before him, which seemed to leave them quite unperturbed. 'Is there anything else I should know about this vessel or her master?'
The bailiff and portreeve looked at each other, then Northcote shook his head. 'I don't know what you mean, Crowner. What is there to say about a merchant ship? They come in here by the dozen.'
'Their crewmen don't end up strangled by the dozen!' retorted John.
Edward Northcote shrugged dismissively. 'This is a seaport; sailors are rough, heavy-drinking men. They get into brawls over women and money all the time and not a few end up dead, one way or the other.'
The coroner made a rude noise. 'This was a youth on his second voyage, a lad who was mild-mannered, wanting to become a clerk. Is it likely that such as he would end up strangled and buried in a hidden grave?'
Northcote stared stonily at de Wolfe. 'That's for you to discover, sir. You catch the killer and I'll judge him in the Hundred court.'
John stuck his head forward aggressively, like a large black vulture. 'You'll do no such thing! When the man who did this is caught, he'll go before the king's justices in Exeter.'
He swung around to leave, but at the door he threw a parting command over his shoulder. 'You'll both be in the churchyard at the tenth hour - or I'll attach you in the sum of five marks!'
The inquest was as unrewarding as de Wolfe had expected, but it had to be done, partly to allow the widow to have her son's body returned for reburial across in Seaton. A motley crowd assembled on the green patch around St Michael's, with most of the population of Axmouth who were not otherwise occupied staring over the low wall at these unusual proceedings, the first inquest ever to be held in the village.
Gwyn had rounded up a score of men from both the village and the ships berthed along the strand, bullying them into a straggling half-circle facing the east end of the church. The corpse was wheeled out on its fishcart and placed in the centre, as Gwyn bellowed out his summons for 'all good men of the county who have anything to do with the king's coroner touching the death of Simon Makerel to stand forth and give their attendance' .
De Wolfe's menacing black-clad figure hovered alongside the cadaver, while Thomas sat nearby on an empty keg brought from the tavern opposite. He had a board across his knees to support ink and parchment, so that he could record the proceedings, sparse though they were. On his other side, somewhat to John's annoyance, Luke de Casewold stood as if he was also involved in conducting the enquiry. The Keeper of the Peace had insisted on riding the five miles from his home near Axminster especially to attend the inquest.
Henry of Cumba was
The bailiff scowled at him suspiciously, an attitude that seemed almost permanent with him. 'Simon Makerel was a shipman upon the vessel. What else is there to know?'
'The cog herself, damn you,' snapped de Wolfe irritably. 'I know her name and that of the shipmaster, Martin Rof. But who owned her, where had she been on the last voyage and where has she gone now?'
It was the portreeve who answered this. He rolled up his parchment and stood it on end on the table before getting up from his stool.
' The Tiger belongs to Robert de Helion, a manor-lord who lives in Exeter, though his lands are scattered about this county and that of Dorset.'
De Wolfe knew of de Helion, but he had no closer acquaintance with him. He knew he was a rich merchant as well as a landowner but had no idea he ran ships as well. 'And what about this cog, when will she be back?'
He received the same reply as the one he had got on the quayside.
'She came in here last week from Barfleur with wine and dried fruit - and has taken wool and some tin over to Calais. Who can tell when she will return? It depends on what cargoes the master can find across the Channel.'
The coroner glowered at the pair before him, which seemed to leave them quite unperturbed. 'Is there anything else I should know about this vessel or her master?'
The bailiff and portreeve looked at each other, then Northcote shook his head. 'I don't know what you mean, Crowner. What is there to say about a merchant ship? They come in here by the dozen.'
'Their crewmen don't end up strangled by the dozen!' retorted John.
Edward Northcote shrugged dismissively. 'This is a seaport; sailors are rough, heavy-drinking men. They get into brawls over women and money all the time and not a few end up dead, one way or the other.'
The coroner made a rude noise. 'This was a youth on his second voyage, a lad who was mild-mannered, wanting to become a clerk. Is it likely that such as he would end up strangled and buried in a hidden grave?'
Northcote stared stonily at de Wolfe. 'That's for you to discover, sir. You catch the killer and I'll judge him in the Hundred court.'
John stuck his head forward aggressively, like a large black vulture. 'You'll do no such thing! When the man who did this is caught, he'll go before the king's justices in Exeter.'
He swung around to leave, but at the door he threw a parting command over his shoulder. 'You'll both be in the churchyard at the tenth hour - or I'll attach you in the sum of five marks!'
The inquest was as unrewarding as de Wolfe had expected, but it had to be done, partly to allow the widow to have her son's body returned for reburial across in Seaton. A motley crowd assembled on the green patch around St Michael's, with most of the population of Axmouth who were not otherwise occupied staring over the low wall at these unusual proceedings, the first inquest ever to be held in the village.
Gwyn had rounded up a score of men from both the village and the ships berthed along the strand, bullying them into a straggling half-circle facing the east end of the church. The corpse was wheeled out on its fishcart and placed in the centre, as Gwyn bellowed out his summons for 'all good men of the county who have anything to do with the king's coroner touching the death of Simon Makerel to stand forth and give their attendance' .
De Wolfe's menacing black-clad figure hovered alongside the cadaver, while Thomas sat nearby on an empty keg brought from the tavern opposite. He had a board across his knees to support ink and parchment, so that he could record the proceedings, sparse though they were. On his other side, somewhat to John's annoyance, Luke de Casewold stood as if he was also involved in conducting the enquiry. The Keeper of the Peace had insisted on riding the five miles from his home near Axminster especially to attend the inquest.
Henry of Cumba was
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