The Gallows Murders

his throat. The body had been hidden in the refuse, covered with manure and rotting straw from the stables. Benjamin congratulated the man, handing across the gold piece and distributing coins to others. It was dark in that small corner of the Tower, so Benjamin had the corpse brought out, carried like some ancient warrior, ringed by torchlight, on to the green. Water was brought from the well, the dirt and ordure washed off. Once this was done, Benjamin and I crouched down on either side, oblivious to the people pressing around us.
    ‘Robert Sakker!' Benjamin exclaimed. ‘I knew it was he.'
    He touched the deep scar which showed clearly through the wet and matted beard. I stared down at the strong, clever face, so serene in death: this villain who had led us a merry dance. I pointed to the dust on his hands.
    ‘Your hypothesis was correct, Master. He worked on the walls.'
    ‘I saw him! I saw him there!' a voice called. A groom pushed his way to the front. ‘I glimpsed him on the scaffolding, but why should someone kill a poor labourer?'
    I examined the crossbow bolt which had torn a great hole in Sakker's neck, a feathered barb sticking out at one end, the cruel arrow-point on the other. The blood from the wound had now dried and caked around the collar of his fustian tunic.
    'He must have been killed some hours ago,' Benjamin whispered. ‘Probably earlier in the day, after he had taken care of Dr Quicksilver. We are fortunate,' Benjamin added. ‘I’m sure if we hadn't ordered our search, this corpse would have disappeared through that secret postern-gate.' He drew his knife and ripped open the rough clothing. ‘Ragusa!' he called. The old crone came tottering through the crowd. Benjamin whispered in her ear: she crouched down, pulling back the clothing.
    'It's him,' Ragusa muttered, 'Allardyce. But he died of the plague!' 'You are sure?' I asked.
    She turned her head, lips curling back like a dog. I'm not stupid, just slightly drunk,' she rasped. There's a mark on his side: I remember it well.' 'And you wrapped him in a canvas sheeting, did you?'
    ‘Yes, I did, and left him there; then the guards came and collected the body'
    Ragusa wiped the dribble from her mouth and went back into the crowd, muttering and shaking her head. Benjamin distributed more largesse and ordered Sakker's corpse to be taken to the death-house. He and I then walked back to our chamber in Wakefield Tower. For a long time Benjamin just stood looking out through the window. If I asked him a question, he'd shake his head and go back to his meditations. He must have stood there for a good hour. I lay on my bed half asleep, trying to decide in my own mind who the villain could be and what evidence we had.
    ‘You'll stay here.' Benjamin came over and pressed me on my shoulder. 'Stay in this chamber, Roger. It would be very dangerous to wander the Tower alone tonight.'
    'And where are you going?' I asked, half propping myself up on one elbow. 'Are we going to arrest Spurge?' I continued. 'He must have known about the secret entrance. He brought the corpse through there so that Ragusa would think it was Allardyce's. He hired Sakker as a labourer. He would also have known when the real Allardyce would be coming here.'
    Benjamin put a finger to his lips. 'I'm going to trap a murderer,' he murmured and, grabbing his cloak, was out of the door before I could object or stop him.
    I admit I am not very good either at waiting or amusing myself. No doxy, no merry maid to dandle on my knee, no Benjamin to question, no roaring boy with whom to drink the hours away and hear the chimes at midnight. Outside, I heard the sounds of the garrison beginning to die away: doors being slammed, the call of sentries on the ramparts, the occasional song. I began to wonder where Benjamin had gone. I became restless. I decided I was hungry and needed more wine, so I went down to the kitchen. I managed to filch some bread, cheese, apples and a jug of coarse wine. The heavy-eyed cook did not object, and I wandered slowly back to my own chamber. The night sky was like some great dark blanket with small pinpricks of light. The Tower was silent, the peace broken now and again by the occasional barking of a dog or the faint call of the sentries along the ramparts. I knew I was being watched: the hairs on the nape of my neck curled and I thought of all the grim, bloody happenings in that place. Did the ghosts walk, I wondered? Including those of the two young Princes? I