The House of Shadows

you choose, but his soul has been dispatched to God before its time, and God, not to mention the Crown and our Lord Coroner, would like to know the reason why.’
    Rolles stood near the doorway, whilst the knights resigned themselves to Athelstan’s questioning. Some sat on stools and chairs. Sir Maurice stood by the door, his hand on the small coffer. Brother Malachi, having accompanied the corpse downstairs, returned with an ale pot in his hand.
    ‘I believe Sir Stephen was murdered,’ Athelstan began. ‘The poison was offensive and strong. It wasn’t in the wine jug but in the cup. Who brought that up?’
    ‘I did,’ Rolles declared. ‘And before you mention it, I had ‘nothing to do with that man’s death. Ask my servants in the kitchen. Sir Stephen came back from Mass, he was complaining he felt hot, he had the rheums, and a slight fever.’
    ‘Sir Stephen often suffered from them.’ Sir Laurence Broomhill, a narrow-faced man clearly agitated by his comrade’s death, played with the Ave beads wrapped round his fingers.
    ‘So he had a fever?’ Athelstan confirmed. ‘His nose was full of mucus?’
    ‘He was coughing,’ Sir Maurice agreed.
    ‘So,’ Athelstan chose his words carefully, ‘Sir Stephen comes back to the tavern, orders a hot bath and a jug of claret. The tub is brought up and filled with hot water. You, Master Rolles, brought a tray with a jug of wine and a cup?’
    ‘Yes.’ The taverner nodded.
    ‘And when you came in here?’
    ‘Sir Stephen had begun to strip. He had complained about his boots being muddy. I told him to leave them in the basket outside, one of my pot boys would clean them.’ Rolles spread his hands and blinked. ‘Brother Athelstan, Sir John, I swear the cup was clean. The wine was the best Bordeaux . If I meant to poison Sir Stephen I would hardly have brought it up myself, would I?’
    Athelstan agreed, but his searching stare disconcerted the taverner, now fearful of this quiet friar with his sharp eyes and pointed questions.
    ‘Did that cup of wine leave your care?’ Athelstan asked.
    ‘Never, I took the cup from the shelf, I rinsed it out with clean water, dried it with a napkin, put it on a tray and brought it up. I placed the tray on the table, talked to Sir Stephen about his boots and left. I heard him draw the bolts and turn the key behind me.’
    He paused as Cranston gave a loud snore. The coroner’s head was going down. Athelstan quietly prayed that Sir John was not going into one of his “ deep slumbers. One of the knights laughed quietly.
    ‘Did anyone come into this chamber?’ Athelstan asked. ‘After Master Rolles had left?’
    Sir Maurice and the rest shook their heads.
    ‘We wouldn’t,’ one of them declared. ‘If Sir Stephen was having his bath, he was most particular about his comforts.’
    ‘So, here we have Sir Stephen,’ Athelstan summarised, ‘alone in his chamber. When the cup and wine are left here there is no trace of poison in them. So someone must have come into this room and, whilst Sir Stephen was distracted, poured poison into that goblet. There’s no secret passageway, no one could come through the window and we have no reason to believe that Sir Stephen would take his own life. Now the claret was rich, it has a strong smell.’
    ‘A fragrance all of its own,’ Cranston abruptly declared, shaking himself and blinking.
    ‘Sir Stephen also has the rheums,’ Athelstan added, ‘mucus in his nose, so his sense of smell would not be so sharp. He climbs into the tub, drinks the wine and dies.’
    ‘He must have opened the door again,’ Cranston interposed.
    ‘Of course.’ Athelstan smiled. ‘Master Rolles, the boots weren’t placed outside when you left?’
    The taverner shook his head.
    ‘So, it must have happened afterwards. There are two chambers, one on either side,’ Athelstan continued. ‘Who occupies them?’
    ‘One is a storeroom,’ Rolles replied. ‘Sir Maurice occupies the other.’
    Athelstan sat staring down at the floor. He could only accept what the taverner had said; Rolles had no obvious grievance or grudge against Sir Stephen, and if he was involved in the poisoning, he certainly would have not brought up the wine himself. He asked Rolles again about the cup and jug never leaving his care. The taverner was adamant. Athelstan was convinced of his innocence, especially as Rolles made no attempt to pass the blame on to anyone else.
    ‘Was Sir Stephen in good humour? Was he anxious about