Field of Blood

remember is a man cowled like a monk.' He smiled thinly. 'He actually had the impudence to say it was a gift from Master Odo Whittock. Of course, our good serjeant-of-law knows nothing of this. Now, in other circumstances the gaolers would have drunk or eaten it themselves but the Jug or flask was sealed. Both Brabazon and Whittock are well known for their long arms and vindictive tempers so the wine was safely delivered. Mistress Brokestreet must have died immediately; there was more arsenic in it than grape.'
    'Does that mean her testimony will collapse?' Athelstan asked.
    'No,' Sir John said. 'She made a solemn declaration before the chief justice and, if Master Whittock has a brain in his head, he will have taken a sworn affidavit.'
    'It's more dangerous than that,' Hengan continued. 'Brabazon will ask who wanted Mistress Brokestreet dead? And they'll lay the blame at Kathryn's door.'
    'But that's not right!' Athelstan expostulated. 'Mistress Vestler herself is a prisoner. How could she be held responsible?'
    'Oh, Whittock will weave his webs. He'll say that Kathryn has an accomplice outside.'
    'Aye, and it will get worse,' the coroner growled.
    He succinctly informed Hengan what they had discovered regarding Mistress Vestler's smuggling activities. The lawyer groaned.
    'You know nothing of this, sir?'
    'Of course not!' Hengan snapped. 'Yet, be honest, Sir John, there's not a tavern in London which does not receive smuggled wine. Even the royal household is involved in it. It's almost a national pastime, yet I understand what you say. If Whittock discovers it, and I am sure he will, he'll allege that Mistress Vestler consorts with well-known outlaws and smugglers.'
    'And she arranged for one of these to carry out Brokestreet's murder?'
    'Precisely, Brother.'
    Athelstan went to the door and opened it. The night air cooled his face as he looked out at where the parishioners were still dancing and singing.
    'Why the interest?' he asked, turning round. 'I mean, Alice Brokestreet has made a declaration; the case against Kathryn is overwhelming. So why is Whittock involved? She can only hang once.'
    'What I suspect,' Hengan replied, 'is the Crown now knows about Gundulf's treasure. Maybe the Regent himself is involved? There are thousands upon thousands of pounds at stake. They may even think Mistress Vestler has discovered its whereabouts.' Hengan pulled a face. 'That's serious enough. However, you must also remember Bartholomew Menster was a royal clerk. The Crown does not take lightly to its minions being ruthlessly murdered.'
    'It will come down to this.' Sir John, despite the ale and wine he had drunk, remained calm and level-headed. 'It will come down to,' he repeated, 'the twenty-fifth of June this year, when Bartholomew was last seen.'
    'He definitely worked in the Tower on the twenty-fifth, the morrow of the birth of John the Baptist,' Hengan said. 'He left his chamber late in the day and, as we know, said he was going to the Paradise Tree. He was never seen again. I've also established that Margot Haden was last seen in the tavern on that day. According to witnesses she went out and never came back.'
    'What!' Athelstan exclaimed.
    'Well.' Hengan raised his hand. 'We know Bartholomew visited the tavern and they both left.' 'And Mistress Vestler?' 'Oh, she was definitely there.' 'How do we know that?'
    'From the servants…' Hengan rubbed his chin. 'I wish I had been there.'
    'Where were you, Master Ralph?'
    'Well, the Feast of St John the Baptist is a holy day. The day before, the twenty-fourth, I went on a pilgrimage to Canterbury, the regular pilgrimage by the Inns of Court.' He shrugged. 'I stayed at the Chequer Board tavern. I even had the pleasure of meeting Master Whittock there as well. We both prayed at the tomb of St Thomas a Becket. I came home on the feast of St Peter and St Paul, the twenty-ninth of June. Kathryn mentioned that Margot and Bartholomew had eloped, but I thought nothing of it.'
    Athelstan took a stool to the top of the table and sat down, cupping his face in his hand.
    'So, we have Bartholomew and Margot leaving the tavern late on the twenty-fifth of June. No one knew where they were going. Some months later their corpses are discovered in Black Meadow. I can see the line Master Whittock will follow. Bartholomew and the tavern wench went down to Black Meadow. Somebody met them there, gave them poisoned wine and buried their corpses.' Athelstan shook his head.
    'Even the dimmest member