Murder most holy

wasn’t,’ Eugenius answered. ‘But Alcuin, for some strange reason, always claimed he was going to the crypt at the very time Bruno stumbled and fell.’ Eugenius pulled a face. ‘I leave you to draw your own conclusions, Athelstan, as to what he meant by that.’
    Athelstan made a few notes of what had been recorded then, putting down his pen, rose and stood over Brother Roger who crouched like a frightened rabbit, his eyes fixed on the Master Inquisitor. Athelstan took the half-wit’s hand in his.
    ‘Brother Roger,’ he murmured, ‘what is it you want to tell Father Prior?’
    Roger blinked furiously and licked his lips in a way which made his tongue look too big for his mouth, making the saliva run down his unshaven chin. The sub-sacristan rubbed his head with dirty fingers.
    ‘I saw something in the church,’ he said. ‘But I can’t remember, except that there should have been twelve, or was it thirteen?’ He smiled vacuously at Athelstan. ‘I don’t know. Brother Roger forgets so quickly.’
    Athelstan shook his head and rose.
    ‘Father Prior, is there anything else we need to know? Does anyone here have further information on these mysterious occurrences?’
    A wall of silence greeted his words.
    ‘In which case, Father Prior, Sir John and I would like to withdraw. We have a chamber here?’
    ‘Yes, the servitor will show you up. Sir John and you will stay in our guest house.’
    Athelstan bit his lip. He knew Sir John wanted to stay at Blackfriars well away from Lady Maude’s sharp tongue but the idea of sharing a chamber did not appeal to Athelstan. He had travelled with Cranston on a few occasions and knew the coroner became very loquacious, especially after a good meal and a few cups of sack.
    ‘We have your leave to go round the monastery and see what we wish?’
    ‘Of course!’
    The meeting broke up. Brother Roger half-ran from the room. Brothers Niall and Peter nodded smilingly at Athelstan. Brother Henry murmured how glad he was to see him here, but the Inquisitors totally ignored him. Prior Anselm handed Athelstan and Cranston over to the lay brother who took them out of the main monastery building, round by the church to a small guest house which overlooked the orchard. It had its own kitchen and buttery on the ground floor and a large spacious chamber above, containing two truckle beds, a chest, a prie-dieu, a table under the glazed windows, one chair, a few stools and pegs driven into the wall on which to hang up their clothes. It was clean and well swept. Fresh rushes lay on the kitchen floor sprinkled with a mixture of herbs whilst the bed chamber boasted woollen cloths on the wall and a pure wool rag stitched to a coarse backing on the floor.
    ‘Father Prior said you can join us in the refectory for a meal if you wish,’ the young servitor announced. ‘Or you may cook your own food or have something sent across from the kitchen.’
    ‘Who will bring the food?’ Athelstan asked.
    ‘I would,’ the young fellow replied. ‘My name’s Norbert. I am in the novitiate preparing for my final vows.’
    Athelstan studied Norbert’s smooth face and clear brown eyes. He looked like a man to be trusted.
    ‘You have nothing to do with the Inner Chapter?’ Athelstan asked.
    ‘Oh, no, Brother Athelstan. Too grand for me.’
    ‘Then,’ Athelstan replied, clapping him on the shoulder, ‘you bring the food across from the refectory. Now, be a good fellow, check on our horses in the stables. Philomel, the old war horse, eats fit to burst!’ Athelstan looked slyly at Cranston . ‘And he’s not the only one! My Lord Coroner is a man with prodigious appetites. Make sure his trencher is well stacked.’ Norbert smiled and gave a gap-toothed grin.
    ‘And that mead,’ Cranston interrupted, sticking his thumbs into his belt, ‘I understand it’s very good for the gullet.’
    ‘Father Prior has already left a barrel, Sir John, for your use. There are jugs of wine and a small tun of beer in the buttery.’
    ‘Excellent! Excellent!’ Cranston murmured.
    Athelstan watched the young servitor leave then slumped down at the kitchen table.
    ‘Sir John, what have we here?’ He laid out his parchment and pens on the table. ‘First, we have an Inner Chapter convoked to discuss theological matters. Brother Henry is debating these issues with Brothers Peter and Niall. The Inquisitors are present to sniff out heresy. Two other Dominicans, Alcuin and Callixtus, make cryptic remarks about