Satan in St Mary

traitor, " Corbett argued fiercely. "He may be responsible for murder, for plotting treason against the King. For being involved in black magic. Surely no court, church or secular would agree with that?"
    "That may well be so, " Swynnerton replied. "But you say 'may'. You have no proof. You have no warrant and that is the difference!"
    Corbett restrained his temper. He realized that his anger would only alienate this old soldier unaccustomed already to taking orders from a clerk. "What happens, " he said slowly, "if I am right? If this priest is a criminal in both the eyes of the Church and of the Crown? Let us say he is involved in villainy and this latter comes to light. How can we, " and he emphasized this word to include both himself and the constable. "How can we then justify not taking precautions now?" He saw doubt creep into the old man's eyes and was satisfied knowing that his cause was not utterly lost. He watched as the old soldier turned and crossed to one of the arrow-slit windows overlooking the inner ward and let him think for a while before he returned to the attack.
    "You must realize, Sir Edward, that I would not make this request unless I had good cause. I suspect that this man is an accomplice to murder, involved in treason which may threaten the very life of the King. You simply cannot stand aside, wash your hands of the matter and say that it is nothing to do with you. Moreover, " he added cautiously, "if I am proved correct, the King will have good reason to be grateful to you. "
    Swynnerton turned away from the window, the doubt and uncertainty clear in his face and eyes. He carefully stroked his small goatee beard while searching for a way out of the problem presented to him. He sighed, went to the door and summoned in one of his attendants, ordering him to call the captain of the guard immediately. A short while later, a burly, red-haired, thick-set man came into the room. He had the rugged, sun-tanned features of a professional fighting man. His very presence, dressed in half armour, and the stance he adopted when he entered the room indicated a man who would take orders and follow them to the letter. Swynnerton went over and clapped him on the shoulder.
    "John Neville, may I introduce our guest. Master Hugh Corbett, Clerk in the Court of King's Bench. "
    Corbett felt Neville's eyes look him up and down, quietly assessing him. "Have you ever fought, Master Clerk?" The voice was clear and authoritative.
    "Yes, " Corbett replied. "I saw some service in the Welsh counties when the King was chasing numerous Welsh princes up and down their valleys. It was an experience I shall never forget, and to be quite candid, I am not too eager to repeat. "
    Neville grinned, showing a row of yellow, broken teeth. "I thought as much, " he replied. "I pride myself on being able to distinguish between those who have fought and those who have not. I simply think it rather strange to have a man I judge as a fighter in the garb of a clerk. "
    "Master Corbett, " Swynnerton interjected, "is not here to do any fighting but to ask us to do it for him. Whatever he says, do!" Swynnerton then left the room and Corbett realized that the cunning old soldier had carefully covered both bets. If Bellet was arrested and later protested, Swynnerton could claim that he had no real part in it. If Bellet was arrested and Corbett was proved correct, then Swynnerton could bask in the reflected glory. Corbett, smiling at the adroit way the constable had dealt with him, took Neville by the arm and quietly confided what he wanted him to do.
    After he had finished, Corbett would have liked to have left the Tower and gone to see Alice but, as he admitted to Ranulf when he returned to their quarters, he was too frightened to go out into the streets of London. It might well have been he, not the young boy, Simon, who could be lying outside the church of St. Katherine with his throat cut from ear to ear. Ranulf received the news of the young man's death with the same nonchalance Corbett had seen that day he had chosen him from the line of condemned men at Newgate. Death was a natural order of things, a daily risk, an occupational hazard, though he agreed that Corbett should stay in the Tower. Corbett also realized that he could not leave until Neville returned with the priest and put him to the question. He shuddered when he thought of this. Bellet would be taken to the dungeons beneath the White Tower and left to the tender mercies of the