Assassin in the Greenwood

at the belt.' 'Oh, for God's sake!' snapped Branwood. Corbett tapped Lecroix's belt.
    'You notice how the tongue at the loose end of the belt lies to the left?' 'So?'
    'Lecroix was left-handed. I found that out when we examined the corpse earlier. This belt should be on the other way round, looped through the clasp, with the tongue of the belt hanging to his right.'
    'He was so bloody drunk,' Naylor muttered, 'it was a wonder he could put it on at all.'
    Corbett shrugged. 'I thought of that, until I remembered something else. See how this belt is fastened?' He undid the belt carefully and held it up. 'Now all the holes on this belt except for one are undamaged, for the simple reason that they were never used. A belt is a very personal article. We fasten it the same way every day – unless, of course, we become fatter.' Corbett moved his finger to a hole further up the belt, well away from the one Lecroix had used. 'See how this hole has been torn, slightly gouged? We can tell, from the specks of creamy leather underneath, that this was very recent.' He put down the belt and got to his feet. 'So I ask you first, why did Lecroix put his belt on the wrong way? Secondly, we have seen the hole he always used – so why is this one, much further up the belt, so recently damaged?'
    Everyone stared back, Sir Peter open-mouthed, Naylor blinking as if he could not follow Corbett's reasoning. Friar Thomas looked expectant whilst Corbett caught a glint of understanding in Roteboeuf's eyes.
    'My opinion,' Corbett concluded, 'is that this belt, on one occasion, was taken off Lecroix and used to bind something which strained against the belt, forcing the gouge marks around the second hole. I'll go further. This belt was strapped around Lecroix after he died. Or should I say was murdered?' Corbett knelt once more at the side of the corpse and pushed back the sleeves of the dead man's threadbare gown. 'Let us, for the sake of argument, maintain that Lecroix was murdered. Someone either took him down here or found him in a drunken stupor. Remember, Lecroix was not the most intelligent of God's creatures, God bless him, and even without wine often lapsed into a very deep sleep. With so much wine down him, I doubt very much whether he would remember his own name. So,' Corbett concluded, 'the murderer, once Lecroix was deep in his cups, took off the poor fellow's belt and bound it round him in such a way as to secure his arms.' Corbett took the belt and then carefully looped it round the corpse, threading the belt through the buckle and fastening it so Lecroix's arms were tightly pinned to his body.
    Ranulf heard the murmur of agreement and grinned to himself. At last Old Master Long Face had shown them he was no fool for the belt fitted exactly at the point where the hole was recently gouged.
    'Do you follow my meaning?' Corbett stared round. In the pool of torchlight they all nodded, their faces tense and watchful.
    'See,' he repeated, 'the belt is now linked around the arms. Lecroix, in his drunken stupor, cannot move his hands. Our murderer then takes the drunken Lecroix, forces him to stand on that box, slips his neck through the waiting noose and knocks the box away, leaving him to kick and slowly choke to death. Now when I was here first, I thought of this possibility and so carefully examined the wrists.' Corbett undid the belt and pushed the sleeves of the gown even further back, pointing to the angry welts high on each arm just under the elbow.
    'He was murdered!' Branwood declared.
    'Oh, yes,' Corbett continued. 'A dreadful death, gentlemen. Lecroix may have taken minutes to die. Once he was dead, the murderer slipped out of the shadows, took off the belt and quickly wrapped it round the corpse's waist. As the assassin was right-handed, the belt was fastened differently from the way Lecroix would have tied it. And who would notice it? Who would discover the hole in the belt or the weals round the arm? Or, if they did, put all these items together?' Corbett got to his feet and shook his head. 'I only realised this when I undid my own belt in the hall.'
    'But why?' Roteboeuf leaned forward.
    Corbett noticed the clerk's face was pallid and covered in a sheen of sweat.
    'Why should anyone murder poor Lecroix?'
    'For two reasons,' Ranulf intervened, winking at his master. 'Isn't it obvious, sirs? First, if Lecroix committed suicide it's only natural to draw the conclusion that he did so out of remorse for killing his master. Such