The Tinner's Corpse Read Online Free PDF Page B

Fitz-Ivo to be appointed.’
    De Revelle ran his fingers down the point of his little beard, a mannerism he affected just as Thomas incessantly crossed himself or Gwyn scratched vigorously at his crotch. ‘I wish to make him coroner for the northern part of the county.’
    De Wolfe bristled again, though he knew his brother-in-law was being deliberately provocative. ‘You can’t make him anything. This is a royal appointment, requiring the King’s approval.’
    ‘In theory, John, in theory. I doubt if our Richard, busy in France on his jousting and his campaigns, can spare a thought for a triviality such as a coronership. However, I think the Shire Court, through me, will be recommending the appointment to the Chief Justiciar when I am in Winchester next week. No doubt he will ratify my suggestion.’
    ‘Not if I tell Hubert that I object,’ snapped de Wolfe. ‘This Fitz-Ivo is a drunken fool, he’ll be a disaster in the job.’
    John’s contempt for Fitz-Ivo, the lord of a small manor just outside Torrington, a village in the north-west of the county, sprang from a short acquaintance with him in the Irish campaign of ’82. In the endless battles and skirmishes between the Norman invaders and the Irish tribes, many knights had tried to carve out land and loot for themselves, including de Wolfe and Fitz-Ivo. The latter, mainly because of his gross eating and drinking, proved a hopeless fighter, sometimes too drunk to stay on his horse, and left for home within a few months of arriving in Wexford. He had inherited the manor of Frithelstock from his father and, with the help of an able steward, managed to survive, if not actually thrive. A widower with no surviving children, his needs were small but, like Matilda, Theobald had an illogical urge to be numbered amongst the county notables. Becoming a coroner was one route to this social elevation and he had been petitioning de Revelle since he had heard of the vacancies. De Wolfe suspected that Fitz-Ivo thought the job was a soft option, as indeed it might be if it was not pursued with the grim dedication that de Wolfe applied to his royal appointment.
    The sheriff gazed at his brother-in-law with a patronising, almost pitying expression. ‘Professional jealousy, John? D’you think you are the only one who can trot around the county and mouth a few words over a corpse at an inquest?’
    ‘There’s far more to it than that, Richard,’ began de Wolfe, ready to lecture the sheriff on the wide duties he had to perform.
    But Matilda, silent until now, beat him to it. She glared across the table at him. ‘That’s enough, John,’ she snapped. ‘The bare fact remains that this county, one of the biggest in England, is supposed to have three coroners. It has only one, who can’t possibly cover such a huge area any longer. You know your leg is not as good since you broke it, you’re not getting any younger, and I’m tired of you being away most of the time, then coming back to treat our home as if it was a common lodging-house.’ She threw a piece of cheese rind on to the table with an air of finality and sat back to glower at her husband.
    De Wolfe knew he was beaten – and, if the truth were known, he secretly agreed that the huge distances across Devonshire were becoming impossible to cope with. Last month, the trips he had made to the north had taken up days of hard riding, while other cases around Exeter had been neglected.
    ‘Very well, but when things go wrong, remember what I’ve said. I agree that at least one other crowner is needed – but Fitz-Ivo, for God’s sake! The man is an incompetent fool as well as a drunkard.’
    Eventually, while they finished the remaining wine, de Wolfe grudgingly accepted that Fitz-Ivo’s name would be put forward at Winchester. If Hubert Walter had no objections, then he would give the man the benefit of the doubt and let him tackle the cases in the northern part of Devon. ‘But if he makes a mess of it, I’ll ride to