Murder most holy

believe ' there’s heresy about. And now,’ he shifted the wine cup with his fingers, ‘Brother Callixtus the librarian was working in the scriptorium late last night — God knows why. He was searching amongst the top shelves. Well, the ladder slipped, he fell and dashed his brains out on the scriptorium floor.’
    ‘God rest him!’ Athelstan murmured, crossing himself quickly.
    He recognised all the names Father Anselm had mentioned though the faces of these men were vague and indistinct. Some he had known from a distance when he was at Black-friars. Others, like Henry of Winchester and the Inquisitors, were visitors from other houses. Athelstan leaned against the table and thought quickly. If Father Prior had come a week ago Athelstan would have been very upset, but perhaps God worked in mysterious ways? Now a short stay away from St Erconwald's might be for the best. He looked at the prior. ‘What do you think is happening at Blackfriars?’
    Anselm stared into his cup. ‘God be my witness,’ he whispered, ‘but I think we have a son of Cain, a murderer, in our midst. I want you and Sir John to investigate. I want you to come now.’
    ‘What about St Erconwald’s?’ Athelstan asked.
    Cranston leaned across and tapped him on the hand.
    ‘Don’t worry your noddle about it, Priest. What’s happening out there could be considered a breach of the peace. I’ll get a few burly serjeants sent down with a writ from the corporation closing the church to everyone but those workmen.’ Athelstan nodded quickly. ‘Yes, yes,’ he said. ‘It would be for the best. Now, Father Prior,’ he said, ‘tell me exactly what is happening at Blackfriars.’
    Athelstan closed his eyes and listened attentively to Father Anselm’s clear description of events over the last few days-‘So,’ Athelstan concluded, ‘we have an Inner Chapter meeting at Blackfriars where Henry of Winchester is debating his theological treatise against the challenges of Brothers Peter and Niall whilst our friends from the Inquisition are present to sniff out heresy.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And during that time, Brother Bruno and Brother Callixtus die, Alcuin is missing, whilst you seem very concerned about the mutterings and mumblings of a half-wit.’
    The prior rubbed his eyes. ‘I am concerned because Brother Roger’s ramblings began after Alcuin’s disappearance. You see, by common report Alcuin went into the church to pray before the corpse of Brother Bruno. He locked the door behind him because he wanted to be alone. He often did that. Brother Roger knocked on the door but, receiving no answer, had to use another key to get in. Of Alcuin there was no sign.’ The prior laced his fingers together. ‘Somehow or other, Alcuin’s disappearance seems to have pushed Brother Roger’s mind deeper into darkness.’ The prior got to his feet. ‘You must come, Athelstan. Sir John will look after the church. I prefer to ask you, but if necessary I will order you as your superior.’
    ‘I’ll come,’ Athelstan replied. He rose and stretched. ‘A holiday from St Erconwald’s will be a rest indeed. Father Prior, you go back to Blackfriars. Sir John and I will join you in a while. I wish you to assemble the members of the Inner Chapter. I need to question them together.’
    Father Prior nodded, hitched the girdle round his robe and left by the open door. Athelstan watched him walk down to where his horse stood tethered near the church steps.
    ‘Oh, Sir John?’ He himself turned. ‘The letter about Benedicta’s husband. It’s gone?’
    ‘Like an arrow from a bow.’
    ‘Good!’
    Athelstan went out into the yard and saw a group of children playing on the steps.
    ‘Crim! Crim! As fast as you can, go to Mistress Benedicta’s house and tell her to come here, please!’
    He walked back into the kitchen where Cranston was pouring more wine. ‘Be careful, Sir John,’ he warned. ‘You’ll need your wits about you this afternoon.’
    ‘I need a bloody drink!’ Cranston snapped crossly, ‘Especially if I am going to spend the day with a group of mouldy monks!’
    ‘Fearsome friars more like!’ Athelstan joked.
    Cranston burped.
    ‘Lady Maude and the children are well?’
    ‘Aye, but I’ll be staying at Blackfriars,’ the coroner answered. ‘I think the Lady Maude has got wind of my stupid wager. You know what she’s like, Athelstan.’ Cranston blew out his cheeks. ‘The Lady Maude doesn’t nag but I can’t stand those long