The Manor of Death(40)

'I want to have a look in there, so open them up for me!' he snapped.

Capie shook his head obstinately. 'Can't be done, Keeper. I don't have a key. Only the portreeve and the bailiff can unlock them.'

Luke puffed out his cheeks and blew in annoyance, feeling that he was being deliberately frustrated in his search for the truth.

'Then I'll go up and get them to show me what's in there,' he promised, but turned the subject once again. 'Now then, Capie, I want an honest answer and be sure that if I find you are lying, you'll end up in chains before the courts. Do you know anything about goods coming in here as the spoils of piracy out at sea?' He glared at the tally-man and rattled his sword in its scabbard to emphasise his threat.

John Capie stared sullenly into the middle distance and shuffled his dirty shoes on the ground. 'I know nothing of such things!' he protested. 'How could I know? I just count items of cargo as they get carried off the cogs. Where they came from is not within my knowledge. '

His words and demeanour were totally unconvincing, and de Casewold leant towards the man and breathed his foul breath into his face as he spoke. 'Come, Capie, you are the man most involved with these ships and their crews! If anyone heard any gossip about certain vessels pillaging others, it would be you!'

The tally-man suddenly backed away, holding up his palms as if warding off the devil himself. 'I know nothing of such matters, Keeper! Don't ask me. I don't want to get involved in any gossip. I'm a simple man who does a job and just wants to live quietly with my family!'

'You sound afraid, John Capie!' exclaimed Luke. 'Has someone been threatening you if you speak out?'

The tally-man stumbled back even further. 'I don't know what goes on out at sea - and I don't want to know! Go and ask someone else, if you must, but leave me out of it, d'you hear!' The last words had risen into a screech as Capie turned and lurched back to his cottage without so much as a backward glance.

'There's a man with something to hide,' observed Hugh Bogge as they watched him hurry into his cottage and quickly shut the door, which screeched as the wood scraped the uneven threshold.

'I'll have him eventually,' crowed de Casewold vindictively. 'But I want to see what's in these storehouses, so we'll tackle the bailiff and Elias next.'

Entering the harbour gate, they passed the church, where a bell was tolling mournfully for some service, a trickle of villagers gravitating to it through the churchyard. Further up the main street they entered the garden of the bailiff's house and through a wideopen shutter saw him and the portreeve bent over a table. The Keeper went to it and called through the window-opening.

'Edward Northcote! I need to talk to you - and to your portreeve.'

The two men inside swung around and groaned when they saw who it was. 'What in God's name do you want, Casewold?' bellowed the bailiff.

'To ask you some questions - and to inspect those warehouses on the wharf.'

'Go to hell, you interfering busybody!' roared Northcote, coming across to the window-opening and thrusting his large, flushed face right into that of the Keeper. 'It's Easter and we have better things to do than waste time with you.'

Behind him, the portreeve nodded nervous agreement but said nothing.

'Have a care, Northcote. I am a king's officer!' threatened Luke. 'I can have you attached to the next county court - or have you dragged off to Axminster gaol.'

'Indeed! And who is going to do that?' sneered the bailiff, his anger rapidly coming to the boil. 'Is that fat clerk of yours going to haul me off by the scruff of the neck? Or are you' going to prod me with your little sword all the way to Axminster?'

'Perhaps not - but a sheriff's posse might!' retorted the indignant Keeper.

'Don't talk such bloody nonsense, man!' was the scathing reply. 'You are a damned nuisance, but what is it you want to ask?'

Slightly mollified by Northcote's grudging agreement, Luke leant his hands on the sill of the window. 'Several matters, bailiff. Do you know when The Tiger is due to return?'

'No, I don't. What about you, Elias - you're the harbour master?'

The skinny portreeve shook his grey head. 'Shouldn't be too long; it was supposed to be a quick voyage over to Normandy. But I can't tell when she's due; she may have sunk for all I know!'

'Or been scuttled by pirates!' snapped de Casewold. 'That was the other thing I need to know. I suspect that goods seized with the blood of innocent shipmen have passed through this port. Do you know anything of that, eh?'

Edward Northcote prodded the Keeper in the chest with a large forefinger, hard enough to make him step back a pace. 'Oh yes, I forgot. We had a few bloodstained casks in last week! And the portreeve here saw several bales of Flemish cloth smeared with gore, didn't you, Elias?'

The heavy sarcasm served only to inflame de Casewold's own temper, and he banged his fist angrily on one of the shutters hinged back against the wall.