Satan in St Mary

hang them. He was an executioner at The Elms. " He looked strangely at Corbett. "Your mistress, " he continued, "keeps strange company. "
    Corbett agreed, Ranulf's words making him all the more anxious about Alice's safety. He turned and made his way along Cheapside, turning the problem over in his mind with Ranulf almost running behind, quietly cursing as he tried to keep up with his new protector's long-legged stride.
    Of course, at Thames Street, Corbett had difficulties with the lady of the house, who looked suspiciously at Ranulf and rather strangely at Corbett trying to persuade her that his new companion was his assistant. Ranulf did not help matters by grinning evilly at the woman but eventually Corbett and her reached an agreement; Ranulf would be given an even smaller garret at the back of the house but until it was cleared, he would have to sleep on the floor in Corbett's room. Ranulf seemed happy enough with the arrangement though, when they reached Corbett's room, he produced a bunch of keys that he had furtively stolen from the lady's belt.
    Corbett went down to return them with a rather lame excuse and then came back to give his crestfallen assistant a stern lecture which ranged from honesty to the horror of The Elms. Then he told Ranulf what business he was involved in, watching the boy closely for any reaction. But, apart from remembering Peter at The Mitre as a former hangman, Ranulf knew nothing of Duket's murder. He recognized Crepyn's name and said he had a reputation of being a powerful man with one foot in the respectable world of the Guildhall and the other in the dirty gutter of London's underworld.
    Corbett also questioned the youth on his earlier life, being surprised at his speech which betrayed a thin veneer of education. Ranulf's explanation was short and brief. His parents had been respectable people from Southwark who had died in one of the many epidemics which ravaged the city. He had been left as an orphan in the care of an elderly aunt who was also the mistress of the local priest. The latter had given him some schooling before Ranulf threw off any attempt to control him, running wild with gangs of young men before slipping into crime and the many opportunities it presented in the city. The rest, Ranulf concluded, Corbett knew.
    The clerk looked at the freshly scrubbed face of the youth who should, if justice had had its way, now be hanging by his neck at The Elms, black-faced, tongue protruding, body broken. Corbett smiled. He was glad he had saved Ranulf and threw him a cloak, telling him to sleep for tomorrow, he promised, would be a busy day.
    Eleven
    The next morning Corbett nudged Ranulf awake and sent him down to collect water and breakfast. Corbett dressed and opened the shutters of his window and, though there was a faint sparkling silver on the roofs and eaves of the surrounding houses, the sun had broken through the early morning frost. It would be a bright day. Corbett wanted to leave the matter in hand and go down to visit Alice but then he remembered Burnell, cursed quietly and, opening his trunk, lifted out his writing-tray with a sheaf of freshly scrubbed vellum and placed them gently on the lid of the trunk. Ranulf returned, grinning wickedly, and Corbett guessed that he had clashed yet again with the mistress of the house; her sullen arrogant manner seemed to bring out the worst in the youth.
    Corbett washed and made Ranulf do the same before they broke their fast on the weak ale and rye bread the boy had brought up. As they ate Corbett outlined what he wanted Ranulf to do, gather supplies, collect the horse Corbett had stabled in Cheapside, return it to Westminster and then carry out a secret task which made the young man's face go white with fear.
    "What are you trying to do?" he screeched. "Send me back to Newgate and a hempen collar!"
    Corbett reassured him that all would be well while he would protect him from any consequence. "Though, " he added wryly, "you are too professional to be caught. "
    The boy looked balefully at Corbett, muttered some obscenity and was still murmuring when Corbett opened the door and pushed him downstairs into the street.
    Corbett then sat on the bed with the writing-tray on his knee and he thought for a while before starting on his report.
    "The death of Lawrence Duket. Date of death 13th or 14th January 1284. Place: Saint Mary Le Bow, Cheapside. Lawrence Duket was a goldsmith who lived off the Walbrook. His business was moderately