‘Lady Isabella, Sir Richard,’ he began, ‘I have no real proof to convict you. Nevertheless, we have enough evidence under the law to swear out warrants for your arrest and ask for your committal to Newgate, Marshalsea, even the Tower.’ He held up his hand. ‘However, we wish for your cooperation. We want the truth. The Sons of Dives . . . you belong to them, don’t you, Sir Richard?’

The merchant nodded.

‘Everyone in this household is a member, are they not?’

‘Yes,’ Sir Richard replied meekly. ‘Yes, we are. The church condemns usury and the loaning of money at high interest. The Guilds also condemn it. However, in every guild, in every livery company in the city, groups of merchants get together in some society. They give themselves strange names. Ours is known as the Sons of Dives. We lend money secretly to whoever needs it but charge interest much higher than the Lombards or Venetians. The money is delivered quickly. Payment is over a number of years. We choose our customers carefully: only those who can underwrite the loan, give pledges that they are good for the money they have borrowed. A petty mystery, our guild is full of such covens.’

‘And the riddles? The shoemaker?’

Both Sir Richard and Lady Isabella shook their heads.

‘We don’t know!’ they murmured in unison.

‘And the scriptural quotations from Genesis and the Book of the Apocalypse, you have no clue to their meaning?’

Again a chorus of denials. Athelstan returned to the table, rolled up the piece of parchment and put away his quills and inkhorn.

‘Sir John, for the moment leave matters be. Sir Richard and Lady Isabella now know that perhaps we are not as stupid or as feckless as sometimes we may appear. You may rest assured, Sir Richard, that in the end we will discover the truth and the murderer, whoever he or she may be, will hang at the Elms for all London to see!’

Cranston pursed his lips and nodded as if Athelstan had said all there was to say. They bade both the merchant and his paramour adieu.

As they left the Springall mansion and waited in Cheapside for an ostler to bring their horses round from the stables, Athelstan sensed Cranston was furious with him but the coroner waited until they had mounted and moved away from the house before stopping and giving full vent to his fury

‘Brother Athelstan,’ he said testily, ‘I would remind you that I am the king’s coroner and those two,’ he gestured in the direction of the Springall house, ‘Sir Richard and that expensive paramour of his, are guilty of murder!’

‘Sir John,’ Athelstan began, ‘I apologise.’