By Murder's bright Light

captain and fifteen archers.’
    ‘But something happened?’ Athelstan insisted. ‘Master Peverill?’
    Peverill closed his eyes before continuing. ‘As I said, the crew were either wounded or dead. I thought they were Frenchmen — but as I turned one over he cursed me in English. Then I heard Roffel talking to someone in the cabin. I am sure the other voice was English. There was a scream and Roffel came out, grinning from ear to ear, carrying a bundle of papers, possibly the ship’s log and manifesto. We took a tun of wine we found below. Roffel ordered the smack to be burnt. He tossed the papers he’d taken into the fire and we sailed on.’
    ‘Is that all?’ Athelstan asked.
    Peverill spread his hands. ‘What more should there be, Father? Oh, I confess, looking back, there was something suspicious going on, but Roffel was a cunning, ruthless bastard, a law unto himself.’
    The crew were French,’ Athelstan mused, “ but Englishmen was on board. So it must have been from our garrison at Calais .’
    ‘Yes, yes,’ Coffrey conceded, looking sheepishly around, ‘Roffel was not a man to care about such niceties.’
    ‘And how—?’ Athelstan broke off as Cranston leaned back in his chair and gave a loud snore. Athelstan gazed in bewilderment at his fat friend, then blushed as he heard a snigger further down the table.
    The fellow’s drunk!’ Cabe whispered.
    ‘Sir John is not drunk!’ Athelstan snapped. ‘But tired, exhausted after his labours. So, I ask my question of you, Master Cabe, and I’ll ask it more bluntly, do you know if more was taken from that vessel than a tun of wine and some papers?’
    Cabe shook his head.
    ‘You are sure?’
    Cabe raised his right hand. ‘I will take my oath upon it. As Peverill said, the whole business was suspicious. Roffel seemed as pleased as a pig in shit though the devil knows why.’
    ‘Who here,’ Athelstan asked, ‘would have access to Roffel’s cabin? Or, to put it more bluntly, who had the opportunity to put arsenic into the flask he carried?’
    ‘Only Bracklebury,’ Cabe replied. The captain was very jealous of his flask. When he wasn’t carrying it he hid it away.’ He smiled thinly. ‘Perhaps we should ask Bracklebury?’
    ‘Oh, I will.’
    Cranston opened his eyes, smacking his lips.
    ‘Bracklebury is now a hunted man, Master Cabe.’ The coroner smiled at the astonishment on their faces. ‘Oh, I forgot to tell you, last night Roffel’s whore Bernicia was brutally murdered in her house — or should I say his house? Anyway, the place was ransacked as if the murderer was looking for something. We believe that earlier in the evening Bernicia met a sailor, perhaps Hubert Bracklebury, at a secret drinking-place and that they left together.’
    ‘Bracklebury’s still alive?’ Emma Roffel whispered. At the end of the table Crawley stirred. ‘But, Sir John, I thought he was either dead or had fled. Why jump ship and hide in London ?’
    ‘Perhaps you could help us there, Sir Jacob,’ Cranston suggested, his face devoid of any compassion for his one-time friend.
    ‘What do you mean?’ Crawley stuttered.
    ‘You claimed to have stayed aboard your own flagship, ‘the Holy Trinity, the night Bracklebury disappeared.’
    Crawley abruptly got to his feet. ‘Sir John, Brother Athelstan, a word in private?’
    Athelstan looked at Cranston , who shrugged. ‘Perhaps outside,’ Cranston murmured.
    He and Athelstan rose and went out into the draughty corridor outside the room. Sir Jacob joined them, closing the door firmly behind him.
    ‘I know what you are going to say,’ Crawley stammered. ‘But, Sir John, you must believe me. I have an honest tongue, but I refuse to be interrogated in front of my men.’ He shuffled his feet. ‘For God’s sake, I have my honour. Perhaps you and Brother Athelstan will join me aboard ship for supper tonight?’
    ‘If you serve good food,’ Cranston replied, ‘we’ll come for that, as well as the truth. Now, come, I still have questions to ask the rest.’
    They went back into the chamber where their forced guests sat in sullen silence. Athelstan could understand Emma Roffel’s isolation but he sensed also that the seamen had a great deal to hide.
    ‘We know,’ Athelstan began, as Sir Jacob and Cranston took their seats, ‘that something mysterious happened aboard the God’s Bright Light. Peverill’s story about the crew being frightened of ghosts may be accurate — Bracklebury wanted