A Roger the Chapman Mystery
Bristol and Wells, 1480
There was a brief silence, during which astonishment was gradually replaced by outrage on the faces of Audrea Bellknapp and her younger son.
‘How dare you countermand my orders like that?You absent yourself for eight years – eight years, mark you! – without a word as to your whereabouts, leaving us uncertain as to whether you are alive or dead. You return home with no advance warning to disrupt all our lives, and then immediately assume you can usurp the authority which I hold in trust for your brother. Not only that, but you also have the gall to foist your disreputable friend on us’ – I realised with a shock that she meant me – ‘and then expect us to treat him with the same courtesy as we should use towards one of our guests.’
Dame Audrea paused to take breath, but Anthony gave her no chance to proceed further. In a voice as coldly furious as her own, he reminded her again that he was now the master of Croxcombe Manor. ‘And so that there should be no doubt on that head, on my way here, I took the precaution of calling on lawyer Slocombe and confirming the contents of my father’s will. Croxcombe is left to me provided I claim my inheritancebefore Simon reaches the age of eighteen.’ He gave a malicious smile. ‘And as I remember that I was already past my tenth birthday when he was born, and as I am now twenty-five […] I am therefore the master here, my dear mother, and anything I choose to do must, I’m afraid, be acceptable to you and Simon or you can arrange to make your home elsewhere.’
I like Roger the Chapman and his dog Hercules – especially when they get the chance to do what they both like best: leave the house and the noisy children and the city behind and head out into the country with a pack of odds and ends to sell to the peasants in isolated hamlets, to charcoal burners in the forest, and even to “the great and good” in their manor houses. (You can find a review of another in the series here.)
This time, Roger is making his way towards the country home of the great but definitely not good Bellknapp family in order to find out why Dame Bellknapp has identified an apparently innocent man in Bristol as the person who committed robbery and murder in her home six years earlier.
At a wayside inn, he falls in with the heir to the Bellknapp estates and fortune, Dame Bellknapp’s elder son Anthony, the prodigal son of the title, returning home to claim his inheritance after years away in the eastern counties. How welcome will this young man be after all this time?
An apparently simple tale of jealousy that quickly becomes more and more complex, just as a medieval mystery should. And as always with Kate Sedley’s books, extremely well written – and with fascinating details of Roger’s background that I for one had not come across before.
But a complaint to the publishers, Severn House. The blurb on the back cover is for a quite different book, The Burgundian’s Tale. (I”ll post a review of that story tomorrow, promise.) This is the first time I’ve come across this particular example of almost criminal publisher negligence. Anyone not knowing Kate Sedley’s work who picks the book up in a bookshop and buys it on the strength of the blurb (which is all about Richard of Gloucester, later Richard III, who does not figure in the book at all) is hardly likely to buy another of her books. In any other profession the person responsible for such an error (persons responsible, for no doubt someone was supposed to check the cover) would be dismissed out of hand: publishers, though, don’t give a damn. And after all, when the only full day you do is on Wednesday (leave early on Thursday afternoon for the long weekend, arrive back late Tuesday morning) that doesn’t leave much time for actual work.