Free The Abbot's Gibbet by Michael Jecks Page A

coroner.
    The men all looked bitter. When a corpse was found, the nearest neighbors must be attached, held on promise of a surety, before they could be formally released. It was the only way to guarantee that they would definitely pay their amercement for allowing a murderer to break the King’s Peace.
    58
    Michael Jecks
    Looking at the shops either side of the alley, Baldwin asked, “You are the butcher?”
    Will nodded glumly. “Yes, sir. That’s my shop there.”
    The first finder interested Baldwin. Will Ruby was a short and strong-looking man, with massive biceps and a belly to match. A thick rug of short, curling hair of a reddish brown covered his large, rounded skull. From the look of his woollen overcoat the knight saw that the butcher enjoyed a profitable business.
    “How did you come to find him?”
    Will explained about his journey to fetch his midden-baskets. “I saw his foot sticking from the pile there and pulled it.”
    Baldwin listened closely while he looked carefully at the body. “Do you have any idea who this was?”
    Holcroft answered for Will. “Not with those clothes. He doesn’t seem to be from within the port—these things are very foreign.” He frowned, staring at the body. “I’ve seen someone wearing clothes like these before, though I can’t think where.”
    “You think it was someone visiting the fair?”
    “It seems likely.”
    Simon scratched his chin. “So where’s his head?”
    “That’s what I’d like to know,” Holcroft said.
    “What?” Baldwin asked. “It is not here?”
    “Not in the heap or anywhere nearby. We’ve hunted up the alley and everywhere, but there’s no sign of it.”
    “Strange.” Baldwin wandered closer to the pile and stared at it a moment before returning to the body.
    “Did you find a knife?”
    “Knife?”
    “His sheath is empty.”
    Holcroft shook his head.
    The Abbot’s Gibbet
    59
    “It is strange that his head should have been cut off,”
    Baldwin murmured. “Why should someone do that, I wonder? And why take his knife afterward?”
    “Simon, do you think we could go on ahead if Baldwin is going to . . .”
    “Margaret, I am so sorry,” the knight said and leaped to his feet. “This is nothing to do with me. I am here for the holiday. We are here to see the fair. My apologies. It was inexcusable to make you wait here with a corpse. Come, we shall go on immediately.”
    Simon climbed on his horse and waited until Baldwin had mounted his own before setting off to the Abbey. The bailiff knew that his friend was always intrigued by crimes, and was surprised at the speed with which Baldwin gave up his questioning. Then Simon saw Baldwin’s eyes return to the body and stay fixed there. The knight caught sight of Simon’s expression and gave a rueful shrug.
    “No, we are here for St. Rumon’s Day.”
    - 5 and held his arms wide in welcome. A T he Abbot of Tavistock stood in his hall cheery, red-faced cleric of middle
    height, his tonsure needed no shaving, for his head wore only a scanty band of gray hair that reached as far as his temples on either side. All his pate from his forehead to the back of his head was bare.
    “Bailiff, welcome! And your lady, too. Please be seated. You must be Sir Baldwin Furnshill. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Come, please be seated.”
    Abbot Champeaux’s enthusiasm was infectious. He led them to a sideboard littered with expensive plate, upon which stood a flagon of wine and a number of goblets, all carefully crafted in pewter. Baldwin took one from the bottler and studied it. There was a hunting scene carved round it. The Abbot, he decided, was not averse to displaying his prosperity. While Simon chatted to his new master, his bag slung over his shoulder, Baldwin sat and took in his surroundings. The room was comfortably furnished, with tapestries on the walls, and padded cushions on the chair seats. A solid moorstone fireplace took up a large part of the eastern wall. From where he