‘You apologise!’ Cranston mimicked. He leaned forward and grasped the horn of Athelstan’s saddle. ‘You apologise! If you had kept your mouth shut, Friar, we might perhaps have gained the truth. But, oh no! We established that Lady Isabella went to the apothecary’s. We established that she and Sir Richard are lovers, adulterers, fornicators, and in only a matter of time we could have had a confession that they were guilty of Sir Thomas’s death as well as the others!’

‘I don’t accept that, Sir John. There is no real proof of murder. Oh, they are guilty of adultery.’ Athelstan felt his own anger rise. ‘If that was the case, Sir John, we would hang half of Cheapside for adultery and still not discover who the real murderer is.’

‘Now, look.’ Sir John leaned closer, his face choleric. ‘In future, Brother, I would be grateful if you would observe the courtesies and, before making any pronouncements, consult with me. As I said, I am the coroner!’

‘Let me remind you, Sir John,’ Athelstan retorted, leaning back in his saddle, ‘that I am a clerk, a priest, and not your messenger boy, your little lap dog! In these matters I will say what I believe is best and if you find it so difficult to work with me, then write to my father prior. This is one burden I would be relieved of!’ The friar’s voice rose so loud that passersby stopped and looked curiously at him. ‘Do you think I look forward to this, Sir John? Going around listening to the fat and the rich of the land confessing their secret sins, and secretly mocking us every time we reach a stone wall and can go no further? Do you?’

Athelstan turned his horse. ‘I suggest we both go back to our respective homes and reflect on what has happened. Perhaps tomorrow, or the day after we may continue our investigations?’

‘You will go home when I say!’ Sir John shouted.

‘I will go when I wish!’ Athelstan retorted.

And, without waiting for any reply, he urged Philomel down Cheapside, leaving the fuming coroner behind.

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

By the time he reached St Erconwald’s, Athelstan regretted his hasty words. Sir John was correct. He had pronounced on Lady Isabella and Sir Richard’s guilt or innocence without any reference to the coroner. There might have been further questions Cranston would have liked to put. He wished he had taken Sir John aside, made his peace and offered some refreshment, some claret in one of the Cheapside taverns. After all there were other strands to the case, loose ends which needed to be tied up. Who was the red-haired whore who had lured Vechey to his death? Had it been Lady Isabella? But many whores wore red wigs.