‘Your husband, did he mention the quarrel?’

‘He said he would investigate the matter later. He was surprised more than angry that Brampton could do such a thing. He said it was out of character.’ She paused. ‘At the banquet my husband broached a cask of his best Bordeaux. I sent up a cup as a peace offering to Brampton.’

‘You are sure Sir Thomas thought highly of Brampton?’

‘Oh, I am certain.’ Lady Isabella shook her head and stared down at the table.

‘Shall we move on to other matters? The banquet last night.’

Cranston farted gently. The sound, however, rang through the hall like a loud bell and Lady Isabella looked away in disgust. Sir Richard glared at the coroner whilst Athelstan blushed with embarrassment at the sniggering and laughter from Buckingham.

‘Why was the banquet held last night?’

‘The young king’s coronation,’ Sir Richard replied. ‘Each guild must prepare its pageant. We were discussing the plans the Guild of Goldsmiths had for their spectacle.’

‘So why was Chief Justice Fortescue present?’

‘We do not know,’ Allingham squeaked. ‘Sir Thomas said that the Chief Justice would be coming. He often did business with him.’ He smirked. ‘Fortescue owed him money, like many judges and lords in the city.’

‘Why all these questions?’ Sir Richard asked softly. ‘Surely the matter is clear. Even a child,’ glancing contemptuously at Sir John, ‘can see that! My brother was murdered, his assassin was Brampton. Why must we go over these matters, muddying waters, causing pain and grief? We are busy men, Brother Athelstan. Your friend may sleep but we have business to attend to. My brother’s corpse lies cold upstairs. There is a funeral to arrange, matters to put straight, business colleagues to contact.’

‘Strange!’ Cranston stirred and opened his eyes. ‘I find it very strange!’

Athelstan looked down the table and grinned to himself. One of the things he could never understand but most enjoyed about Cranston was how the big, fat coroner could doze and yet be aware of conversations going on around him.

‘What is strange?’ Lady Isabella snapped, her distaste for the coroner now openly apparent.

‘Well, My Lady,’ Cranston licked his lips, ‘your husband has a servant, Brampton. Brampton is faithful and obedient, like the good steward in the gospel. Why should he wish to search amongst your husband’s papers? What did your husband have to hide?’

Lady Isabella just glared back.

‘Let us say he did,’ Cranston continued, breathing in heavily. ‘Just let us say he did and there was a quarrel -surely no cause for murder or suicide? You have said, Madam, how Brampton was a quiet, placid fellow. Not a man of hot humours or rash disposition who would commit such a dreadful act and then compound it by taking his own life.’

‘How else did it happen?’ Sir Richard asked stiffly.