‘I wish to be no one’s nemesis, Master Hobbey.’
‘Do you not? I wonder.’ Still he spoke quietly, but now he looked at me, his eyes suddenly as sharp and questing as they had ever been. ‘Well, perhaps I am wrong, perhaps it started with Michael Calfhill, with – ’ A spasm of pain crossed his face, and he seemed to come back to himself. ‘We should not really be discussing such things without Vincent here,’ he said, his tone formal again. ‘I will see you in two days, Master Shardlake.’ And he nodded dismissively.
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.