The House of Shadows

the five knights staying at this tavern. In fact he was doing more than this. The numbers 1, 1, 2, 3, 5 come from Signor Fibonacci’s work on geometry, Practica Geometriae. The writer demonstrated a sequence of numbers, each of which, after the first, is the sum of the two previous. The Misericord, a scholar, had to show off: he was not only listing you knights, but demonstrating how you were all bound up in one murderous coven. Finally,’ Athelstan sighed, ‘as he died, the Misericord became more explicit. He tried to scream the source of his suspicions. The prisoner in the adjoining cell thought he was shouting “Askit“. In truth, it was “casket“.’
    Athelstan stretched out and brought the casket towards him.
    ‘You had decided on his death, hadn’t you, Sir Maurice? You and your companions, Master Rolles and Mother Veritable. You were a coven of conspirators, who could vouch for each other whatever pretended quarrels occurred between you. When Sir John came with his questions, you could act all innocent, and claim that no one left the tavern, but one or more of you certainly did slip across to Cheapside and, cowled and cloaked, arrange for that poison pie to be sent in to the Misericord. I suspect two of you went. Mother Veritable bought it, and one of your company gave it to the keeper. You knew we were going there. You simply watched and waited for us to leave, then carried out your murderous design. You must have known a gift from the Lord Coroner to a prisoner in Newgate would be handed over immediately.’
    Athelstan paused. In the garden outside the window the bailiffs were gathering around a deep pit, talking excitedly at each other, pointing down to something. Athelstan half rose to get a better view, and realised that the bailiffs had been digging near the small flower arbour where he and Rosamund had sat.
    ‘In a while,’ he murmured, ‘all will be revealed. By now...’ he continued. Sir Maurice seemed not to be listening, leaning on the table, head in hands, whilst Branson gazed at the wall like a man who had taken a blow to the head. ‘By now you had decided on other deaths. The Judas Man was a danger, narrow of soul but with a razor-sharp wit. He grew suspicious; indeed, anyone would have. During those long hours in St Erconwald’s cemetery, he would ask himself questions like, why the Misericord? Who had hired him? Why the great secrecy? He would learn about the Lombard treasure and the mysterious events of twenty years ago, and, of course, he was a suspect over the killings of Beatrice and Clarice, even though he was involved in a brawl on the night they were murdered. I searched his chamber and found a scrap of parchment where he had written “4 not 5“.’
    ‘He was talking about this present company, wasn’t he?’ Cranston asked.
    ‘Yes, he was,’ Athelstan agreed.
    ‘He had met you, hadn’t he, Sir Maurice? He knew all about the five knights and their chaplain. He was keen-eyed, and on the night of the Great Ratting, he came down into the tap room. He must have met you, did he not?’
    Sir Maurice refused to look up.
    ‘He noticed one of you was missing around the very time that those two young women were murdered. He noticed Chandler wasn’t there. This is pure deduction,’ Athelstan conceded, ‘but the Judas Man would be intrigued: what important event occurred where only four of the knights, not five, were present? The only significant occasion, the only murders which occurred when he was close by, were those of Beatrice and Clarice. He must have heard the gossip about Sir Stephen quarrelling with those women as well as being seen in the yard afterwards. Above all,’ Athelstan glanced quickly at the corpse stiffening beside him, ‘he wondered why Master Rolles never interfered with his confrontation with that poor miscreant Toadflax. Was Rolles so busy in the kitchen he couldn’t come out? The Judas Man started asking questions, so one of you killed him, very close, with a crossbow bolt. The Judas Man was a soldier, a hunter; he would have to be caught unawares. I could imagine Master Rolles tapping on his door, the primed arbalest well concealed. The Judas Man flings the door open, and in a few heartbeats he is dead.’
    Athelstan glanced at Malachi, lost in his own thoughts, beating his fingers against the table edge.
    ‘Master Rolles must have been involved. You would need his cart. The Judas Man’s corpse, stripped naked, was concealed under mounds of