Murder most holy

sung until we have given decent burial to our two brethren. Go on! Finish your wine and be off with you!’
    The lay brother obeyed. Anselm leaned back in his stall. ‘Go on, Athelstan,’ he murmured.
    Cranston went across and whispered in Athelstan’s ear. His companion smiled, nodded, and went to stand in front of the stalls like a preacher about to deliver a sermon.
    ‘Brother Alcuin,’ he began, ‘died because he knew something vital about the Inner Chapter.’
    ‘Such as what?’ pleaded Brother Henry, his large dark eyes pools of anxiety. The young theologian leaned forward. ‘What did Alcuin know to cause his dreadful death, these horrible events? What is so dangerous about what I have written?’ He glared at the Inquisitors.
    ‘Your writings contain heresy,’ William de Conches answered over his shoulder.
    ‘No.’ Athelstan held up his hand. ‘Let us leave that. Brother Henry, I cannot answer your questions. All I can surmise is that Brother Bruno died in Alcuin’s place. The sacristan realised that, became frightened and anxious, so came in here to pray.’
    ‘He often did that,’ Father Prior murmured. ‘He said it was one of the advantages of being sacristan, to pray and work without interruption.’
    ‘Exactly,’ Athelstan muttered. ‘On the day he died, Alcuin came into the church and, as usual, locked the doors. He went behind the altar and knelt at the prie-dieu to pray for guidance as well as the repose of poor Bruno’s soul. Now, what Alcuin did not know was that there was another person in the church.’
    ‘Where?’ Brother Henry asked.
    ‘A good question!’ Eugenius shouted. ‘Did Alcuin just let his murderer attack him without making any resistance?’
    ‘No, I thought of that. That’s why I said he was kneeling at the prie-dieu. The only place an assassin could hide was in the apse, standing in one of the niches in the wall at the back of the sanctuary. There are statues there but how often would someone like Alcuin study them? They are life-size, they are part of the church. On that day, however, the assassin, dressed in a dark cloak, also stood there, silent, immobile, like one of the statues.’ Athelstan paused as they all craned their necks to peer over the altar at the alcoves he referred to.
    ‘They are certainly deep enough,’ Brother Niall remarked. ‘Yes, you are right, Athelstan. If a man dressed in a dark robe stood there in this poor light, he could remain concealed for a while.’
    ‘The murderer slipped out,’ Athelstan continued, ‘and murdered Alcuin. How long would that take, Sir John?’
    The coroner made a face. ‘No more than a few seconds. The most terrifying aspect of the dagger is the shock it induces as well as the speed with which it kills.’
    Athelstan watched the faces of his companions for any reaction to Cranston ’s lie but failed to glimpse anything untoward.
    ‘The rest was simple,’ he continued. ‘The assassin had to dispose of Alcuin’s body. This morning, when I was praying before poor Roger’s coffin, I noticed how deep it was. The same idea must have occurred to the assassin. Perhaps he just planned to drop the body into the burial vault, but it was easy instead to undo the clasps of Brother Bruno’s casket. There would be room to force Alcuin’s corpse in and re-seal it.’
    ‘But it would increase the weight?’ William de Conches spoke up.
    ‘Yes, but would that be noticed?’ Athelstan replied. ‘Oh, we felt it when we tried to raise the coffin this morning, but, remember, after the funeral mass and the final blessing, the coffin is lowered into the burial vault. How long does that take, Father Prior?’
    ‘No more than a few minutes.’
    ‘The lay brothers would certainly notice the weight but, as it would prove no extra burden in lowering the coffin, they would dismiss it as a momentary fancy.’ Athelstan stopped speaking and went back to stare across the altar. ‘Now the murderer was locked in the church. I suspect that if we examined poor Alcuin’s corpse, we would find his keys missing. The murderer would have taken them and got rid of them later. Anyway, Roger’s return disturbed him so he went back to the alcove. Roger came into the sanctuary through the sacristy. God bless him, he was a half-wit but I have noticed how such people take careful notice of their surroundings. They tend to stare at things as if seeing them for the first time. Roger expected to find his master, he could not, so his