The doctor examined Demetrius – his face, his chest. ‘There’s no sign of a wound,’ he said, barely touching the shepherd’s clothes.

‘You should turn him over, Doctor,’ the blacksmith said, coming into the room. ‘You take his legs, and I the head… gently now.’

Something clattered onto the stone floor and all the men jumped. Edith’s gold coin had come free from Demetrius’ fingers and rolled across the room.

The mayor picked it up. ‘You should give this to the butcher tomorrow.’

‘How can you be so insensitive?’ said Vanda as Edith took the coin from him. They turned the shepherd like a log, face down, his arms frozen to his sides. There was a gasp of disbelief from the men, and for a moment Edith couldn’t understand what she was seeing. On Demetrius’ back was a dark stain.

‘My God,’ said the mayor. ‘He was shot – in the back.’

Edith felt her knees weaken. The room spun, and she nearly fell.

‘Take her away,’ said the doctor, his voice harsh. ‘Get her out of here.’

But Edith refused to move.

‘Quiet,’ said the blacksmith. ‘The dead deserve respect. Let’s turn him again.’

Edith placed the coin where once Demetrius’ heart beat.

She kept her hand there and stared with fury at the mayor, at the doctor, at the priest. All corrupt, she thought, and in the palm of the butcher’s hand. She thought of her grandmother’s story – what should a man fear the most? Greed, because it leads to envy, it leads to war, it leads to all that the devil feasts upon.

‘The gold coin belongs to Demetrius,’ said Vanda, ‘the man Edith was engaged to, whom she loved.’ She put her arm around Edith. ‘You, Mayor, should stop this wedding. ‘Or are you afraid of my father, too?’

The mayor poured himself a brandy to steady his nerves.

‘Is there anything you need, sir?’ asked the maid.

He shook his head and dismissed her.

‘Is there anything I need?’ he said to himself. Yes, to not have the shepherd’s body lying at the blacksmith’s house with a bullet in his back. He washed his hands in a basin, checked his beard in the mirror and thought himself well suited to the role he had been given. He sat behind his desk, knowing that it gave him more authority. He smelled the elders before they had entered his study, their clothes musty with a faint whiff of camphor. He reached in a drawer for a small bottle of cologne and dabbed it on his beard.