| |
Day Six
Simon
––––––––
“It’s time for you to tell me about Patrick.” Rhys brought a chair to the other side of the low table in front of Adam, turned it around, and sat with his arms across the back rail. They were all trying to be unthreatening. Adam was having a hard enough time as it was.
At the moment, he was sitting on a bench in Owen’s receiving room off the great hall, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Patrick was a stone’s throw away in the dungeon-like basement of the gatehouse. The keep also had a basement, but at the moment it was being used to store everything they had salvaged from the fire.
Now that the younger man was in custody, they had let it be known that Adam had been a willing participant in the trap to catch his nephew. Prince Edmund himself had stood at Simon’s side as he’d informed the king and Owen de la Pole of what they’d discovered. While Owen had appeared offended not to have known about the ruse in advance, the king had laughed and said to his brother, “You didn’t trust me with the truth, eh?”
“That isn’t it at all. As your quaestor could tell you, the smaller he keeps his circle of knowledge, the better.”
“Looking out for me, as always.” King Edward’s words could have been mocking, even towards his brother, but they sounded sincere.
Owen had insisted on being in the room when Simon and Rhys interviewed Adam. At the moment, he was braced against the mantle of the fireplace, something of a glower on his face. Fortunately, he was not in Adam’s direct line of sight.
“I can’t believe any of this. Patrick has always been a sweet boy.” Adam was practically moaning with unhappiness.
“But has he, really?” Rhys said. “I admit until he was arrested he presented himself well, but now we know the dark side of him and have seen it ourselves. Can you really tell me you haven’t seen it too?”
The pause was long enough for Simon to know the answer before Adam replied. “I don’t know. Moriddig drove him hard. Patrick is immensely talented, as you have heard, but he has always wanted to take short cuts.”
“You told me he didn’t apply himself to his learning the words to the songs,” Rhys said. “When we spoke earlier, you implied he would do almost anything to avoid it.”
“I have always tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. I do think he is smart enough, but if pushed, he pushes back. And if he isn’t pushed, he does even less of what he is supposed to do and then gets upset when he doesn’t do well. It’s like he is incapable of understanding why that is. It drove Moriddig mad.” Adam put out a hand. “My brother swallowed down the criticisms that rose to his lips more times than I can count. He tried to be understanding. We all had a hard time after Patrick’s mother died. Maybe we spoiled him.”
“There’s spoiling and then there’s murder,” Rhys said. “Did Patrick ever give any indication to you that he was capable of killing his father?”
“No!” Adam shook his head. “It’s inexplicable.”
Rhys brought out the satchel. “What do you make of each of these?” He set the items in front of Adam one by one.
At first, Adam stared at the collection, which to many would have appeared innocuous. Then he picked up a little bell on a ribbon. “This belonged to our cat.” He looked up at Rhys. “He kept it all this time?”
“It seems so.”
Then Rhys took out the garnet Stephen had found on Hugh’s body and set it next to the knife, explaining where it had come from. If Adam’s face could have paled further, it would have been luminescent.
“It really was him,” he said dully.
With that, Owen could contain himself no longer. “How could you not have known what a snake he was? He murdered your brother and Hugh! He set fire to my castle!”
Adam’s face was back in his hands, and it occurred to Simon that maybe he had suspected what Patrick had done, but hadn’t wanted to admit it. “Can you tell us why he would do any of these things, Adam?”
Although Adam shook his head fairly forcefully, he answered anyway. “I can only think he was more displeased than I thought to learn that we would be leaving Lord Owen’s service.”
Owen was outraged again. “You’re saying the murders are my fault?”
Adam looked stricken, so Simon intervened. “Of course not, my lord. I don’t think you’ll find a more loyal servant in your retinue than Adam. But there are instigating events in every murder. Adam would be lying if he didn’t point out one of them.”
Owen subsided, slightly mollified, and Adam turned to him for the first time. “I am tainted by these crimes. I realize you will not want me serving you anymore.”
“Don’t be absurd. I need you now more than ever! It isn’t your fault your nephew is a murderer.” He wrinkled his nose. “And to think I intended to take him into my personal service too. The two of you together could have gone a long way to replacing Hugh—” He stopped. “Is that why? Was his intention simply to further his prospects, first by replacing his father, and when it was clear he wouldn’t be offered the position of bard, to replace Hugh as steward?”
“If that was his plan, it was working,” Simon said, “though I don’t see how he could have laid it all out in advance. If he had the sight, he would have seen the end result was losing his life on a gallows.”
“Thank you for speaking with us about Patrick, Adam.” Rhys began returning the items to the satchel. “I think we know enough now that we can ask him.”
