Assassin in the Greenwood

every nook and cranny of their house.'
    'Did Vechey suspect?' Father Thomas asked.
    'Oh, no! He was too busy hunting the traitor in the castle who was providing the outlaws with vital information. Branwood skilfully planned his death.' Corbett pulled the bundle from underneath his chair and took out a soiled napkin. 'Do you remember, Physician Maigret, where you saw this last?'
    'Why, yes,' the physician cried, peering across the table. 'That's the one from Vechey's chamber. He used it to wipe his mouth.'
    'No, he didn't!' Corbett replied. 'When Sir Eustace went up to his chamber he was carrying a goblet of wine. He sipped that then he and Lecroix ate some of the sweetmeats. Afterwards, Sir Eustace washed his hands and face. He picked up a napkin, dried himself and retired to bed.' Corbett chewed his lip and stared at Branwood. 'But we both know, Sir Peter, that the napkin Vechey used was coated in the most potent poison you could buy from that witch Hecate – deadly nightshade. Oh, yes, I have heard of a case in Italy where a woman dipped one of her husband's shirts in such a potion and killed him. Now, naturally, Lecroix would not use the same napkin as his master, I wonder if that's what Lecroix meant by the last words he said to us before he died? Do you remember, Maigret? "My master was tidy."'
    'Yes, I do,' he replied: 'And you are right, Sir Hugh. Vechey would have gone to bed, his lips and hands coated with that noxious substance.'
    'Ah, but what would have made it easier,' Corbett continued, 'was that Sir Eustace had sores on his mouth. These would give the poison direct entry into his blood and other humours. Yet that napkin, Sir Peter, was your greatest mistake. The next morning you, with the rest, came up to see Sir Eustace's chamber and, during the confusion, exchanged one stained napkin for another. And you were very cunning. The replacement napkin carried wine stains and sweetmeats, even blood, as if Sir Eustace had opened the sores on his lips. Now, Physician Maigret.' Corbett passed the soiled napkin over. 'Pull across a candle. Examine the napkin left in Sir Eustace's chamber and, bearing in mind what I have told you, what is wrong with it?'
    Maigret did as he was told. At first he shook his head but then he glanced up, smiling. 'Of course,' he said. 'There are the stains from the sweetmeats and there are the blood marks, but the two are quite separate. The blood stains are quite distant from the other marks. They should be together, even mingling.'
    'Exactly!' Corbett retorted, taking the napkin back and tossing it down the table at Lincoln. 'That's what I concluded when I re-examined it.'
    'But,' Maigret exclaimed, 'Sir Peter too was ill.'
    'Oh, I think that's due to one of two reasons. Remember, Sir Peter did not go to you until after Sir Eustace's body had been discovered. This could have been due to Sir Peter's trying to pose as a possible victim himself, or perhaps he had tinged himself, or thought he had, with some of the potion from the poisoned napkin.' Corbett pulled a face. 'Who would suspect? Branwood probably left the napkin there before the banquet began. It was the one thing in that room Vechey would not share with Lecroix, a mere servant.'
    'You speak true, Sir Hugh.' Friar Thomas spoke up. 'I remember that morning. Sir Peter came to Vechey's chamber wearing gloves. I am sure,' he concluded flatly, 'that those gloves, together with the poisoned napkin, disappeared into a fire.'
    'And Lecroix?' Maigret asked.
    'Oh, well, he had to die. There was always the risk he may have noticed something or Vechey may even have shared his suspicions with him. Now, do you remember, Sir Peter, I asked you why Lecroix should hang himself in the cellars? You said because the castle was under attack or because Lecroix may have been looking for more wine; after all, we did find a small wine cask smashed. Of course, I know different now. There was plenty of wine in the castle and the cellar with its secret trap doors and passageways would be the last place a man would go if he wanted to hide. Lecroix was not as stupid as he looked. He may have been searching for the secret passageway out of the castle. He may even have suspected the truth, following his master's death, and reached the conclusion that he might discover what the outlaws had taken. In other words, My Lord of Lincoln, if His Grace the King wishes to regain his taxes, I am sure they will be found somewhere in the cellars or secret passageways