The Relic Murders

into the city,' he replied, 'stopped there last night. At first they didn't see anything wrong but, at dawn, they noticed the crows were massing on the walls at the far side of the ruin. They went over, and found Berkeley's body lying in a ditch. He was wearing a gilt bracelet with his name inscribed on it.' Kempe cleared his throat and spat. 'They brought this into the city and went straight to the Guildhall. I have a man there, a clerk, who brought the news to me.'
    I strained my eyes and caught a flash of colour amongst the trees. 'I think Lord Egremont is waiting for us.'
    Kempe put spurs to his horse and we galloped across the grass, not reining in until we entered the trees. We dismounted and followed Kempe into a large clearing where the ruins sprawled: crumbling walls and towers, covered in lichen and creeping ivy. Egremont and Cornelius were waiting for us inside: the Imperial envoy had his cowl pushed back, his long, dyed hair tumbling down on either side of his unshaven face.
    'We've been waiting, Sir Thomas, at least a good half hour!' He looked sinister standing there, legs apart, sword and dagger in their sheaths. Beside him, Cornelius, hands pushed up the voluminous sleeves of his gown, looked even more threatening, the hilt of his dagger just peeping out from the edge of his cloak. Behind him was a silent half-circle of Noctales, an eerie sight with their shaven heads and monkish garb, yet all the more threatening as they were armed to the teeth. They stared at us without a flicker of friendship or camaraderie.
    'They hold us responsible,' I whispered to Benjamin. 'You can see it in their eyes!' 'Where's Berkeley?' Kempe asked.
    Cornelius snapped his fingers. Two of his men came forward, carrying a small stretcher, a piece of canvas between two poles. They pulled back the covering sheet. Lord have mercy! Berkeley was a good man, he deserved a better death. His boots and hose had been removed, his half-closed, blood-filled eyes gazed blankly up. His mouth was simply a gaping hole of blood and his throat had been slashed, drenching what had been a costly blue and gold jerkin. 'He was a good man, at least to me!'
    I knelt down beside the corpse, closed my eyes and said a quick prayer. Benjamin on the other side was already examining the corpse.
    'Look.' He held up Berkeley's hand. 'Someone has sliced off the top of each finger. The same with the left hand.'
    The soles of the poor man's feet were scorched, while long dagger furrows ran down either side of his bare legs.
    'He was tortured,' Cornelius exclaimed. 'Tortured for a while. A small fire lit beneath his feet, the tips of his fingers removed. Now who would do that to Sir Hubert?' 'Anything else?' Benjamin asked. 'How did he come here?'
    'There are signs of horses,' Cornelius replied, crouching beside us. 'Whoever did this undoubtedly enjoys his work.'
    Benjamin got to his feet. 'Sir Thomas, where were you last night?' he asked abruptly. 'And you, my Lord Egremont?' The Imperial envoy strode over, a riding crop in his hand. He laid this gently on Benjamin's cheek. 4 Are you accusing me?'
    I rose, hand on my dagger hilt. Egremont caught the movement and laughed deep in his throat. 'Tell him, Sir Thomas. Tell him where we both were last night.'
    'We were guests of His Grace the King and his Eminence Cardinal Wolsey. We were in the court from late afternoon. Master Daunbey, you know the King: we hunted, we feasted, we were entertained by one masque after another and the festivities went on until just before dawn. Master Berkeley here disappeared yesterday. He told his workers he was going out and that's the last we know of him.' 'And where were you?' I asked Cornelius.
    'We have lodgings in the old Temple buildings near Fleet Street,' the Noctale replied. 'And?'
    'Like you, Shallot, and you, Master Daunbey, I cannot guarantee where I was every single hour.' He gestured at the corpse. 'This is the work of a professional assassin. I believe he kidnapped Berkeley.' He bent down and turned the corpse over. 'Struck him on the back of the head and brought him here for questioning.' He gazed slyly up at me. 'But God knows why?' He pointed to the dagger marks on either side of the knee. 'These would be particularly painful; when a man tenses his legs and the muscles are tight beneath the knees such cuts would make him scream.' He looked over his shoulder at Egremont and said something in German.
    'What was that?' Benjamin asked, who knew a little of the