The Treason of the Ghosts

seen,’ Tressilyian pointed out.
    ‘No,
it’s a lonely place. Two things puzzled me about that assault. First, who was
this bare-footed bowman? He struck once but never struck again. Sorrel, who
knows those woods like the back of her hand, failed to see any mysterious
archer. Secondly, if this bowman had gone to such trouble, why wasn’t he
successful? Molkyn, Thorkle, Deverell and probably Blidscote are all dead. All
you received were cuts which, of course, were self-inflicted. You got rid of
the bow and quiver, ensured all the signs of an attack were visible. You then
continued on your way. You muddied the waters. You also left that crude sign
pinned to the gibbet and daubed a similar message on the headstone over Sir
Roger’s grave. All your actions that day would have been easy. A heavy mist had
swirled in. The graveyard is a lonely place and, once you were ready, you burst
into the crypt as the frightened, aggrieved justice.’
    ‘And the executions?’ Sir Maurice asked.
    Corbett
could tell how the young manor lord half accepted the truth of what he was
saying.
    ‘Oh,
those were quite easy. Molkyn was well known for his drunken habits on a
Saturday evening. Sir Louis went into the mill, he sheared Molkyn’s head off
like one would snip a flower. Thorkle was the same. Melford, particularly in
autumn time, with the mists shrouding a desolate countryside, is ideal for such
attacks. Deverell the carpenter was also studied. Sir Louis knew about the
Judas squint—’
    ‘Where’s
the evidence for all this?’ Sir Louis demanded.
    Corbett
hid his surprise at Tressilyian’s calm demeanour. He wants to be caught,
Corbett thought; he expected to be trapped.
    ‘The
evidence, Sir Louis, is tenuous. First, that note left at Deverell’s house. Do
you remember the quotation: “Thou shalt not bear false testimony against your
neighbour“? Most people translate that verse as “You must not bear false
witness...“ You used “testimony “ about the statements
of witnesses at Sir Roger’s trial. You said, in effect: “If they gave false
testimony, upon their heads .“ What a coincidence!
Molkyn lost his head, Thorlde’s brains were dashed
out. The crossbow bolt hit Deverell in the face, piercing the brain. When
Blidscote’s corpse is found, his death blow will be to the head.’
    The
justice sat, hands on his knees, staring down at the floor.
    ‘I
am going to ask you one question, Sir Hugh.’ He lifted his head. ‘Have you
trapped the real murderer?’
    ‘I
know who it is,’ Corbett replied.
    ‘Do
I have your oath on that?’
    ‘You
have my oath.’
    Sir
Louis took up the edge of his cloak and picked at the threads.
    ‘If
I am going to be put on trial, I demand to be taken to Westminster .’
    Corbett
ignored Sir Maurice’s sharp intake of breath. ‘Agreed.’
    ‘I
am a justice,’ Sir Louis continued. He sucked on his upper lip. ‘I took an oath
to uphold the truth and see that the King’s laws were executed. I’ve told you
this before, Sir Maurice. I had little love for your father: he was a lecher, a
philanderer. Thank God you are different. Even my late wife...’ He paused. ‘No
woman was safe when Sir Roger was around, but I never believed he was a
murderer. Why should he kill Widow Walmer, whose favours he enjoyed? Yet the
evidence was there, particularly Master Deverell’s, not to mention the
bracelets and the knife. Nevertheless, I thought the jury would return a “Not
Proven “ verdict . Sir Roger would be acquitted, but
disgraced and be forced to leave the shire. I was surprised when Molkyn
returned the hanging verse: “Guilty with no plea for mercy .“ Justice followed its cruel course.’
    He
smiled. ‘Sir Hugh is correct. I hid my doubts; I recalled the evidence: the
jury was responsible. Above all, the murders had ended.’ He paused, wetting his
lips.
    Corbett
went over, half filled a cup of wine and brought it
back. Sir Louis thanked him with his eyes.
    ‘Oh,
I made my own enquiries. I found out how Molkyn had acted the bully in the jury
room. I was deeply suspicious about Furrell’s disappearance. I felt sorry for
Sorrel and for you, Maurice. I did my best. I tried to be the father I had so
brusquely removed from your life.’ He cradled the cup. ‘But when those murders
began again I knew I was wrong. Somebody had come into my courtroom. I was no
more than a puppet, a seal for the real killer’s wickedness. He and the rest
had used the law to send an innocent man