Satan in St Mary

to follow when Ranulf suddenly pushed him, sending him sprawling back into the passageway, the door slamming in front of him. Corbett heard a series of dull thuds on the door, drew his dagger and waited for it to open. He heard Ranulf shouting, the door opened and Ranulf re-entered.
    "In the name of the Good God, what is the matter?" Corbett yelled at him.
    Ranulf shrugged, opened the door and pointed to the ugly squat crossbow bolts deeply embedded there. "I saw them up on the roof of a house where it sloped down to meet the next building, " Ranulf replied. "I don't know why I looked. I heard a noise and stared up. They had the sun at their backs, I could hardly see but I saw their crossbows so I pushed you back and dropped to the ground. " He looked down at his mud-spattered tunic. "I cannot understand your wish to be clean!"
    Corbett smiled at the young man's pathetic attempt to amuse him. He suddenly felt wearied, tired of this task, weak with relief at the death he had so narrowly escaped. He sat slumped on the stairs, head in his hands as Ranulf watched him anxiously, not knowing what to do. Corbett felt the same. He knew that he would have to move out of Thames Street if he wished to survive. They, the Pentangle, or whatever other nonsensical name they called themselves, wanted him dead! They knew where he was and twice had attacked him here. Corbett thought of asking Alice for shelter but that was too close, it might put her under risk. Burnell had placed him in this danger, then Burnell could assist him. He looked up at the still waiting Ranulf.
    "Go upstairs, " he said softly. "You will find a set of saddlebags behind the chest. Put the contents of my chest into diem and whatever else you may think we need. I will settle accounts with our hostess. "
    While Ranulf clattered back upstairs, Corbett went to see the owner of the house, explaining that he would be away for a while but handed over money to keep his lodgings. He did not inform her where he and Ranulf were going but told her to keep any messages sent to the house. She looked anxiously at him but his face forbade any questions so she shrugged and accepted his words. Corbett then left, taking wry amusement from the thought of how the lady would react when she found two crossbow bolts embedded in her front door. He went nervously into the street but it was deserted as were the surrounding rooftops which would
    have provided his assassins with the perfect escape route. Ranulf was waiting there with bulging saddlebags. Corbett made him repeat the message he had given him earlier, then added a brief few words which Ranulf, eyes closed and face tight with concentration, faithfully repeated to Corbett's satisfaction.
    At the end of Thames Street they parted, Ranulf for the river and Westminster, Corbett north to Cheapside and Saint Mary Le Bow. Despite his tiredness, Corbett decided to walk and the fresh morning air revived him. He felt better, stronger in himself and angry at the secret killers who stalked him through the streets. Corbett now made sure he was in or near a group for he knew that he was most vulnerable when he was isolated in some lonely place. He had decided to go to Saint Mary Le Bow for it was here where the trouble had begun. Those who had tried to kill him, wanted to stop his investigations into Duket's death. So, if he was to prevent his own murder, he would have to solve the mysteries of that man's death. Moreover, Corbett sensed he would be safe in or near the church. His attackers had murdered Duket but they would certainly baulk at committing a similar crime in the same place. Such an act would bring the whole power of the Crown and Church crashing down about them.
    The thought comforted Corbett as he pushed open the gate to the overgrown churchyard and made his way to the main entrance. It was locked, so Corbett strode over to the priest's house and hammered on the door. The Rector answered and the astonishment on his narrow face told Corbett that this man expected him dead and he felt the anger and fury rise like bile in his throat. "Priest!" he had to restrain himself from shouting. "I need the keys to the church!" The priest, flustered and concerned, said he would open the door but Corbett thrust out his hand, snapping his fingers as a sign that the keys should be handed over. Nervously, Bellet removed them from the cord which hung from his belt, Corbett grabbed them and, turning on his heel, strode over to the church.
    Once