The Devil's Domain

can prove that Anna Triveter no more travelled from Dover , than we have journeyed from Jerusalem . But that’s because both of us are trained in the art of observation, logic and deduction. We are skilled hunters,’ Athelstan continued, ’of the sons of Cain: those who kill in the darkness and then step out into the light, wipe their lips and say they’ve done no wrong.’ He pointed to the corpse. ’However, to the untrained eye, here is a young woman who claims to be handfast to you. She has travelled from Dover and, because of your rejection, took her own life. So, a few questions and some are repetitious. Have you ever met this woman before?’
    ’No, Brother, on my soul!’
    ’But you consorted with a girl called Anna in Dover ?’
    ’Yes, Brother, a whore. I’ve been shriven of my sin and done penance.’ Sir Maurice licked his lips. ’I beg you to keep that as a matter for the confessional. It was before I met the Lady Angelica. Since then I have had eyes for no other woman. My life has been chaste, my mind and soul pure.’
    He spoke so passionately, Athelstan accepted the knight was telling the truth.
    ’Very well.’ Athelstan tightened the cord round his waist, fingering the three knots there, each a reminder of his vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. ’We now have Anna Triveter who walks into this play unannounced. We know she is a whore. However, she comes here and pretends to be your common-law wife who has travelled all the way from Dover . She cleans her boots and has her travelling smock washed because she wishes to hide the fact that she has probably travelled no further than from one of the wards in the city. She has been hired by someone who kills her, hoists her corpse up on the end of that rope and leaves a letter for the world to read. The assassin then slips out of the window. Agreed?’
    Sir Maurice nodded.
    ’So, why did you come to this tavern yesterday?’ The Dominican held up a hand. ’No, let me tell you: a messenger came to the Savoy Palace and asked for you?’
    ’One of the oldest tricks in the book,’ Sir John observed.
    ’It was a beggar boy,’ Sir Maurice replied. ’He arrived at the Savoy about two hours after I left you. The guards stopped him but he said he had an important message. I came down, and the boy, a little street urchin, said that, at the Golden Cresset, there was a messenger waiting for me from the Lady Angelica.’
    ’Ah!’ Athelstan exclaimed. ’That would confirm my suspicions. Go on!’
    ’I didn’t think twice. I came here, bought a blackjack of ale and stayed for over an hour.’
    ’Didn’t you bother to ask anyone?’ Sir John asked.
    ’By the time I reached the Golden Cresset, my ardour had cooled. I wondered if I had been deceived. Was it a trap? I told the tavern wench my name and said I expected someone. Time passed. I finished the ale and I left, angry at such trickery.’ He scratched his head. ’I didn’t know whom to blame. Such pettiness was beneath Sir Thomas Parr. I thought it might be one of my companions in the Lord Regent’s household inventing a jest, a jape to while away the time.’
    Sir John came across and, moving the blankets, began to cover up the corpse.
    ’But you can see I’m innocent!’ Sir Maurice cried.
    ’Oh, I’ll change my verdict. But don’t you understand, Sir Maurice? Brother Athelstan and I know the truth but what will the world think? A woman lies here dead! The letter! The gossip will seep out like wine from a cracked vat. Sir Thomas Parr will hear about it.’ The coroner gazed sadly at him. ’Worse still, the Lady Angelica too.’
    ’Sir John has the truth of it,’ Athelstan agreed. ’Even if we change the verdict, they’ll accuse us of covering up a crime of one of Gaunt’s henchmen. Can’t you see, Sir Maurice, the assassin probably knew we’d discover the truth but the damage is done. If you throw enough mud, some always sticks!’
    Sir Maurice’s hand went to his dagger, his face white with fury. ’I’ll kill any man who accuses me! I’ll call him out!’
    ’Oh, for the love of God!’ Sir John cried. ’What are you going to do, Sir Maurice, fight every man in London ?’
    ’Sir Thomas Parr knows the truth,’ Sir Maurice spat back. ’He arranged all this.’
    ’Sir Maurice! Sir Maurice!’ Athelstan grabbed his hand. ’I could prove in a court of law that this young woman was murdered and did not commit suicide but we still don’t know who she is or where