“May I see the knife?”
She brought him the knife, and after looking at it, he handed it back. Next Clement examined the bailiff’s feet, asking about his shoes, which were fetched for inspection. After a moment, he went back to examining the bailiff’s upper body, and then examined his head, rolling Tom over. Finally, he had Ranulf and the bailiff’s sister assist him in taking off all Tom’s clothing so he could see if there were any other marks or wounds. After several more minutes of silent examination, the coroner enlisted Joan to help him put the clothes back on the bailiff, and then he dismissed her to tend her garden.
When Joan was gone, the coroner pointed to the bloody spot above the bailiff’s right eye. “The only wound seems to be this. Perhaps he tripped and fell, striking his head on the large stone found near his body.”
“Yes, that seems likely.” Ranulf hoped he didn’t sound too eager.
“But the problem with that theory is that the stone seemed to have been recently displaced. It was damp and dirty on one side, indicating it had lain somewhere for a long time before being moved. Perhaps it was moved and then the bailiff stumbled over it. However,” Clement continued, “if he stumbled over it, he wouldn’t have been likely to strike his head on it, would he? It seems rather more likely that someone hit him with it.”
Ranulf raised his eyebrows in an attempt to look intrigued. “I see.”
“But the most interesting thing is the knife. Why would the man be clutching a knife? As if he were fighting someone off. Or perhaps attacking someone.”
The coroner began searching the bailiff’s clothing for hidden pockets or items that may have been concealed, but he found nothing. Next, he lifted the bailiff’s empty hand, turning it over. He seemed to start and stare harder, bending low over the man’s appendage.
Ranulf kept his eyes fixed on the coroner. “Do you see something?”
“Indeed. There appear to be bite marks here.” Sir Clement pointed at the meaty part of the hand between the thumb and forefinger. “If we find who made these teeth marks, we may just find who wanted the bailiff dead.”
Ranulf’s blood seemed to go cold in his veins.
“You say you are the one who discovered the body?”
“Yes, around vespers Sunday evening.”
“Do you know anyone who hated the bailiff and might want him dead?”
Ranulf shrugged. “I have only been here a few weeks.”
“Did the bailiff have an argument with anyone recently?”
“Not that I know of.”
Sir Clement raised himself to his full height. “It’s impossible to say whether the bailiff will recover. If he does, he may not be able to speak or otherwise be able to function normally again. And due to the suspicious circumstances, I shall have to summon the hundred bailiff — you are familiar with the procedure — so he can gather a jury for an inquest. I appreciate any help you can give, Lord le Wyse.”
“You shall have my full cooperation, Sir Clement.” He bowed respectfully.
“You’re a good man. Now I’ll have that ale you promised.” The coroner smiled, his usual amiability replacing his business face, and they walked together back to the manor house.
He would have to be shrewd indeed to keep anything from Sir Clement.
Chapter
12
After staying hidden in the kitchen all day, Annabel hated the thought of facing everyone in the upper hall for supper. The coroner would be there, and so would Lord le Wyse, whom she hadn’t spoken to since he embraced her and then spoke so rudely to her.
She helped Mistress Eustacia set the table with food and drink. The usual frumenty, bread, and ale had been replaced with roast pheasant, pork, and fruit pudding.
As the workers began filing in for their evening meal, Annabel continued filling the cups with ale. Her glance went to the door repeatedly until she spotted Lord le Wyse, followed closely by a sandy-haired, balding stranger: the coroner, no doubt.
Lord le Wyse seemed to look around the room until his eye met hers. With him staring straight at her, the pitcher of ale slipped out of her hand to the floor. The vessel shattered, scattering shards of pottery in all directions.
How could I be so clumsy? Now the whole room would stare at her. And she had wanted nothing more than to go unnoticed.
She bent, her hands trembling, and started picking up the shards.
Adam came running toward her. “Can I help?”
She took one look at his bare feet and held up her hand. “Adam, stop. You’ll cut your foot.” His father caught him by the arm and pulled the boy back to his place on the bench beside him.