By Murder's bright Light

had delivered the message.
    ‘Father, do you wish something to eat or drink?’ Athelstan sat forward and stared into the anxious face of the landlord’s wife.
    ‘No, thank you.’ He smiled. ‘I think Sir John has done gallantly for both of us.’
    The friar felt self-conscious sitting there by himself so he walked back into Cheapside and into the church of St Mary Le Bow . For a while he knelt before the altar and said a few prayers, then he admired the beautiful stained-glass window in the nave. Athelstan could never stop admiring the brilliant colours and skills of the artist. Portraying the risen, glorified Christ, harrowing hell and freeing souls who had waited for his coming, he had expertly caught the rapture on the faces of the saints and the anger on the black-visaged demons, who stood glaring from behind their wall of fire. Cranston had promised that, as soon as the good weather allowed, he would purchase a similar window for St Erconwald’s.
    The church bell began to toll on the hour so Athelstan walked slowly back to the tavern. He had hoped to find Sir John. Instead, the two scrutineers sat smiling in unison, almost as if they had been sitting there since the previous evening.
    ‘We received your request, Brother Athelstan.’
    ‘I wish all my prayers were answered so swiftly,’ the friar replied.
    ‘And where is that excellent coroner?’
    ‘Involved in other business.’
    ‘And what, my dear priest, do you have to tell us?’ Athelstan again repeated the conclusions he had drawn after his conversation with Lady Aveline and showed both scrutineers the crudely drawn map. The smiles on their faces faded.
    ‘Very clever,’ Peter, the taller one, replied. ‘Very clever indeed. So, Brother, you think that Sir Henry told Roffel about the ship and our pirate captain sank it?’
    ‘In a word, yes. What puzzled Sir John and me is why?’
    ‘Well, that’s simple enough,’ the scrutineer replied. ‘Sir Henry may not have been a traitor, but he was certainly a thief and a murderer. You see, Brother, we thought the ship had been sunk because of our agents and the despatches they carried. Now, I confess, it was sunk because of the belt of silver one of our agents wore.’ The scrutineer waved Athelstan closer. ‘Let me explain. You know the treasury is empty. We therefore take loans at a high rate of interest from men like Sir Henry. We thought he could be trusted. He often landed agents in France . A week before Roffel sailed, we sent one of our agents, a young clerk, to Sir Henry, who provided him with warrants and papers and also gave him a large leather belt with a veritable fortune stitched in the secret pockets within it. Our agent and a companion were to go to Calais and then, on an appointed day, sail from there to Dieppe . That bastard Ospring—’ The scrutineer paused to draw in his breath. ‘I am sorry,’ he muttered. ‘I am losing my temper.’
    ‘You can’t do that,’ the other one replied.
    ‘No, no, I shouldn’t, but it’s apparent that Sir Henry Ospring lent the treasury that silver and saw to the despatch of the agent. He then informed his piratical friend Roffel when the man would sail from our garrison in Calais to Dieppe .’
    ‘Clever, subtle trickery,’ Paul the scrutineer interrupted. ‘Sir Henry lends his money at a high interest. The treasury is forced to repay it whilst Sir Henry steals back the original amount.’
    ‘Roffel and Ospring deserved to die,’ his companion declared. Thieves, murderers, Ospring particularly. He met our young agent and, even as he gave him the silver, was planning his death. Believe me, friar, whoever killed Sir Henry Ospring deserves a pardon.’ He caught the smile on Athelstan’s face. ‘Does that amuse you, Brother?’
    ‘No, sir, it does not. But many a true word is spoken in jest. Sir John and I may return to you on that matter.’
    ‘What is important,’ Peter remarked, ‘is to discover if Roffel had any accomplices and to get that silver back.’
    The two scrutineers got to their feet.
    ‘We entrust everything to your capable hands, Brother Athelstan,’ the taller one announced. ‘When the game is over and the full truth is known, come back to us.’

CHAPTER 9

    Sir John and Brother Athelstan sat at the head of a dusty table in a shabby room on the top floor of the Guildhall. Both stared at their truculentfaced guests. Emma Roffel, pale and anxious, looked eager to be away; Tabitha her maid crouched next to