Song of a Dark Angel

hanging.' Corbett looked over at the white-faced Gurney. 'Don't you remember, Sir Simon, when you held the court in the parish church? Master Joseph abruptly left. I thought it was strange for a religious leader to forsake, so quickly, the corpse of one of his community. But, there again, why should he care? Marina wasn't worth a penny to him any more.'
    'And how did you discover the truth?' Gurney asked.
    'It was the money left to Robert the reeve that started me thinking. Why should some mysterious benefactor give money to a goldsmith in Bishop's Lynn for a poor reeve in a fishing village?' Corbett walked back and put his hands gently on Blanche's shoulder. 'Your father probably half-suspects.' He looked over his shoulder. 'Sir Simon, I am finished with these demons. You have room for them in your dungeons?'
    Gurney nodded.
    'Hold them there, but keep them separate. Nettler here may turn king's evidence and throw himself on the royal mercy. He may give us the dates, names, seasons. If he does, who knows what clemency we may recommend?'
    Nettler looked up, a sly look in his eyes. Master Joseph swore and tried to lash out at Nettler, but fell with a crash of chains to the floor. Gurney was half-way to the door to call his retainers when Master Joseph struggled to his feet.
    'Wait!' he shouted.
    Corbett turned, eyebrows raised.
    'A full and frank confession, Master Joseph?'
    'Piss off!'
    'What then?'
    'Information.'
    Corbett walked closer. 'What about?' 'The treasure.'
    'What treasure?' Corbett asked.
    The man raised his manacled hand to wipe the blood from his mouth and stared maliciously at Corbett. 'First, give me your word.'
    'There'll be no pardon for you, Master Joseph, or Hubert Mugwell, whatever you wish to call yourself! You'll hang!'
    'Oh, I don't worry about myself. I'll skip to the scaffold. Death doesn't worry me. I am going to hell where I'll dance with the devil and wait for you, Corbett!'
    'What then?' . 'I have a house, a woman and child at Lothbury. You'd eventually find out about them. They are not to be harmed or their goods seized.'
    'That's where I have seen you!' Ranulf suddenly interrupted. 'Years ago. In London, in a brothel on the stew-side in Southwark. What did you call yourself? Some French name? Oh, yes, Alphonse. I was there. You were the Master of Revels.' Ranulf walked closer. 'I never forget a face, but I couldn't clearly remember' – Ranulf smiled apologetically at Corbett – 'because the memories of that evening are sweet. How many names have you had?'
    Master Joseph sneered. 'More than your wits.' He looked at Corbett. 'Do I have your word, clerk?'
    'It depends on the information.'
    Master Joseph was about to refuse but he shrugged and shuffled a little closer. 'I have been here eighteen months. Everybody talks about the treasure. I did a little searching of my own, but found nothing. Then you and that other black-garbed, snivelling clerk came, asking about Alan of the Marsh.'
    Corbett nodded. 'How do you know about him?' 'Give me your word about the woman and child!' Corbett stared back, chewing his lip.
    'I want your word! Your solemn word here in the presence of witnesses!'
    'You have it,' Corbett answered.
    'Go to the Hermitage!' Master Joseph said. 'There you will find out about Alan of the Marsh. I do have your word?' Corbett nodded. 'Take them away!' he ordered.
    Once the door was closed behind the prisoners, Corbett walked across to Blanche. 'It's finished,' he whispered.
    The woman looked round. 'No, Sir Hugh, it's only just beginning. Master Joseph will hang. You will go back to London. But, tomorrow morning, I will return to a brothel in Bishop's Lynn.'
    'You needn't,' Corbett replied.
    The girl half-smiled. 'Yes, yes, I know. But you see, Sir Hugh, what can I go back to? Back-breaking work in the fields? Scornful glances until the day I die? No, I'll go back.' She smoothed the front of her dress. 'I'll think. Perhaps one day… But tomorrow morning I will return.' She glanced fleetingly at Gurney. 'You will give me an escort?'
    'Of course.'
    'And tell my father nothing?'
    Gurney nodded.
    Corbett watched her leave.
    'The whole village will know,' Ranulf murmured.
    'Of course they will,' Gurney replied. 'In a community like this, gossip crackles like flames amongst dry stubble.' He sighed and got to his feet. 'We'll leave you alone, Hugh. I'll send food to your chambers. You'll want that?'
    'Yes.'
    Gurney pointed to Ranulf. 'You'll come with me?'
    'Where to?'
    'The