The Relic Murders

merely formulating a hypothesis which is based on considerable fact.' 'But you have not finished, have you?' Kempe hissed back.
    'No, I wish I had, Sir Thomas. It would be easier to say the Orb of Charlemagne has been stolen, that the Papal Envoys have it and that's the end of the matter. I have no real proof that the Orb was a forgery, just a suspicion. I might even travel back to Ipswich content that the English Crown, somewhere, still held the Imperial Orb. However, there are other, interesting developments.' 'Such as?'
    'Well-' Benjamin flicked away some crumbs from the table-top. "The French, too, were in London. Doctor Agrippa informed us that they also wanted the Orb of Charlemagne and were prepared to pay dearly for it. According to what we have learnt, these French envoys have now left for Paris, highly pleased. I suspect they, too, think they have the Orb.' Kempe began to laugh though his eyes remained watchful.
    'What are you saying, Master Daunbey? That there were two Orbs of Charlemagne? Both forgeries? That the one from Malevel Manor was sold by Charon to the Papal Envoys? Then who gave the French the other?'
    'I don't know,' Benjamin replied, 'but I would like to see the replica you showed us in the woods near Malevel.' Sir Thomas rose to his feet in exasperation.
    'Oh and I have another question,' Benjamin added. 'The archer in Malevel Manor. He was sending messages to you, wasn't he, Sir Thomas?'
    Kempe gave a dismissive motion with his hand and made to walk away.
    'Either you tell me,' Benjamin called out, 'or I will demand an interview with Dearest Uncle!' 'Follow me,' Kempe replied.
    Sir Thomas walked out, shouting orders at his officials to ensure that everything was neatly tagged. He then led us down the sewer, the cold, fetid darkness broken only by the occasional soldier holding a blazing cresset torch. We must have walked half a mile before Sir Thomas reached some crumbling steps and led us up. We had to crawl out through a small hole at the top under a great slab of stone. The cold night air made me gasp and I exclaimed in surprise as I stared around. Night had fallen and the sky was bright with stars. In the light of flickering torches which had been fixed on wooden poles driven into the ground, I could see we were in a disused derelict cemetery and, some distance away, the dark mass of the church of the Crutched Friars. Usually derelict and empty, now the cemetery had been invaded by soldiers and clerks. Carts waited to take away the treasure, horses chomped at the long grass. Men-at-arms and archers were driving away the curious sight-seekers. Sir Thomas led us across, through the corpse door and into the church. He closed the door, struck a tinder and lit a candle in the Lady Chapel. I did likewise. I had not yet finished my prayers, so rudely interrupted by Lord Charon's henchmen. I lit two candles: one for Lucy, the other for Castor. I then joined Sir Thomas and Benjamin where they sat on a bench against the rood screen.
    'There's no one here,' Sir Thomas began. 'Churches are the best place to plot.'
    'It was you, wasn't it?' Benjamin asked. 'You were the one the archer was sending the messages to?'
    'Yes, yes, it was.' Kempe eased his legs. 'I feel tired,' he declared leaning back against the rood screen. 'But it was a good night's work, Master Daunbey.' I was sitting on Benjamin's right, and I looked across. In the dim candlelight, I was sure the devious bastard was laughing at us.
    'Why?' I asked. 'Sir Thomas, I am cold. I am hungry. I've been manhandled by Charon's ruffians. I would love a hot meal, two cups of claret and a soft bed.'
    'There's no great mystery,' Kempe replied. 'Lord Egremont and his creature Cornelius had the upper hand at Malevel. However, the King was determined to know that all went well so I chose an archer called Yeovil. Whenever possible, he was to send me a message fired from a window at the side of the house. A master bowman, Yeovil chose his target well, an ash tree just beyond the walls. It was simple enough for any skilled archer.' 'And what did Yeovil report?' Benjamin asked.
    'Nothing.' Kempe got to his feet: tucking his thumbs in his war-belt, he stared down at Benjamin. 'Oh, he said the leader of the Noctales, Jonathan, was nervous and that the men were bored. But the casket was still sealed, the Orb was safe and all was well.' 'Can I read these messages?' Benjamin asked. Kempe shook his head. 'They have been destroyed.' 4 And the replica Orb?'