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Stablegate remained unabashed Athelstan secretly marvelled at the iron-hard malice of the man.

‘Cut me or cut me free,’ Stablegate retorted.

‘Oh, I’ll cut,’ Sir John breathed, resheathing his dagger. ‘A thousand cuts and a thousand more. Brother, how long do I have to have the stench of this turd in my nostrils?’

‘Take him away now,’ Athelstan ordered. ‘Put him back with Master Flaxwith and bring Flinstead here.’

Sir John pulled the clerk to his feet and pushed him out. Flinstead returned drying the tears on his cheeks. Athelstan waved him to the stool.

‘You may well weep, sir,’ he began. ‘I have sung the same song to Master Stablegate as I did to you.’

Flinstead glanced up.

‘He’s confessed, you know. He claims that he stole the silver but you killed Drayton.’

‘That’s a lie!’ Flinstead screamed, jumping to his feet. ‘It was Stablegate! His idea from the start! When Drayton used to keep us waiting outside, Stablegate would study that bloody door. At night, in the tavern, he developed his scheme. It took a week to loosen that boss: I would take the accounts into Drayton and distract him whilst Stablegate worked on the clasp.’ Flinstead held up his hands. ‘God be my witness, I stole the silver. I told Drayton I had knocked Stablegate unconscious and that there were footpads in the house who were bent on slitting his throat. I ran down the passageway with the silver. Drayton locked the door and began screaming. Stablegate then went back. He was pretending to be hurt. “Master,” he croaked I heard him whilst waiting in the shadows. “Master, Flinstead has struck me! It is me. Master, look!”’

‘Was it dark in the passageway?’ Athelstan asked.

‘Oh yes. Stablegate had removed the boss. He then loosed the crossbow.’ Flinstead shrugged. ‘The rest is as you described. We went out of a window which we carefully closed behind us. Stablegate insisted that we spend the evening being well seen by other people. The next morning we came back. We knew Flaxwith would be doing his usual rounds. We broke in through a window and while Stablegate took him down to the strongroom, I locked the shutters we had opened the night before.’

‘And then Master Flaxwith organised the door being broken down?’

Flinstead nodded.

‘And Stablegate secured the boss he’d removed the previous night,’ Athelstan added. ‘He’d coated it with a glue so that when the door was broken down it held fast and, in the confusion, one of you simply replaced the clasp on the inside.’

‘Yes,’ Flinstead moaned. ‘We practised it so many times. Stablegate even had a piece of wood made containing a boss and clasp. He showed me how it could be done: a crossbow bolt is only an inch across, the hole is at least twice that. He said Drayton would come to the grille; at such a close distance, any wound would kill. Drayton would be dead by morning…’ His voice trailed off.

‘And the silver?’

Flinstead slumped down on the stool. ‘Sir John, I don’t know. Stablegate took it off me. He says he’s hidden it.’

‘Do you know where?’

Flinstead shook his head. ‘Heaven be my witness, Sir John, I was so agitated, so nervous after…’

‘Drayton had been murdered.’ Athelstan finished his sentence.

‘Well?’ Cranston asked ‘Surely you must know? You are his companion in crime.’

‘Stablegate said that he didn’t fully trust me. I was too nervous but at the right time we’d take the silver with us.’

‘Where did you plan to go?’

‘Stablegate was sure that, although we might be suspected, nothing could be proved. We’d leave the country, go across the Narrow Seas.’

‘Ah.’ Athelstan sighed and crouched down beside the young man. ‘Listen, look up!’

Flinstead lifted his head.

‘You may be nervous,’ Athelstan continued. ‘But you are also a killer. You slew a man in cold blood and stole what was not yours. Stablegate was right. It would be very hard to prove that you were the killers. It would have remained a mystery if it hadn’t been for that door.’

‘Come to the point, Brother!’ Cranston snapped, standing behind him. ‘The day is long and we have other business to do.’

‘Oh, Flinstead knows my point,’ Athelstan replied. ‘Much suspected, nothing proven, eh? But you know, Sir John, any attempt by these two lovelies to leave the kingdom, particularly if they were suspected of stealing so much silver, would have been carefully scrutinised. You need a licence to go beyond the seas. That’s why Alcest, the clerk from the Chancery of the Green Wax, came down here, wasn’t it?’

‘I think so,’ Flinstead mumbled. ‘Stablegate said he would take care of that.’

Athelstan tapped him under the chin. ‘Oh, I am sure he would, Master Flinstead, he would have also taken care of you. A knife in the back and another corpse is pulled from the Thames, eh?’ Athelstan got to his feet. ‘I think it’s time for Stablegate.’

The second clerk had hardly entered the room when he looked at Flinstead and realised what had happened.

‘You snivelling bastard! You caitiff! They have trapped you, haven’t they? I told them nothing.’

He would have lunged at Flinstead if Flaxwith, standing behind had not given him a firm rap across the shoulder with his cudgel. Stablegate, wincing with pain, fell to one knee. Flaxwith dragged him back to his feet; nevertheless, the clerk was still defiant.

‘You fat, red-faced bastard!’ he sneered at Cranston. ‘You and your little mouse of a friar. Well. I don’t mind. Drayton was a hard-nosed, avaricious bag of turds. Life is hard. It’s only a short dance at Tyburn.’ His face became contorted with rage. ‘As long as Flinstead dies beside me, I couldn’t give a fig!’ He shook his fist at Cranston. ‘You can tell that to the bloody Regent! He’ll never get his silver!’ Stablegate stopped and smiled maliciously. ‘Of course…’ His voice had fallen to a whisper.

‘Where’s the silver?’ Cranston took a step closer. He took his dagger out and pressed the tip into Stablegate’s chin.

Stablegate stretched out his hands. ‘What is it, Cranston? A journey downriver to the Tower? The King’s torturers? Do you think I’d give up the silver then? And if I die, what will His Grace the Regent say to that eh?’

‘You are an evil young man,’ Athelstan accused.

‘Piss off, priest! Sir John knows what I’m talking about. Don’t you realise, Flinstead,’ he raised his voice, ‘there’s hope yet. Now you can see why I hid the silver. You’d have blabbed all.’

‘What do you want?’ Cranston asked.

‘Sanctuary,’ Stablegate demanded. ‘Sanctuary for me and Flinstead The right to Bee to Mary Le Bow. We’ll stay there forty days.’

‘And then you’ll abjure the realm,’ Cranston said. ‘You’ll be taken to the nearest port, thrown on the first available ship and if you set foot in England again, you’ll hang.’ Cranston rubbed his chin. ‘The Crown will post a reward on your heads,’ he added. ‘One hundred pounds dead or alive. You can beg, across the Narrow Seas, but set foot in any English port and every harbour reeve looking for a quick profit will have your name and description.’

Cranston took Stablegate by the arm and marched him across to the counting desk. ‘Sit there,’ he said. ‘Take a quill.’ He pointed to a scrap of parchment. ‘Write down where you have hidden the silver. Then both of you can flee. Don’t be stupid! Don’t try and get beyond the city walls. We’ll ride you down. Flaxwith here will ensure you take sanctuary in St Mary Le Bow.’

Stablegate struggled but Cranston’s grip was vicelike. ‘You are a horrible young man,’ the coroner snarled. ‘And if that silver isn’t where you say it is, I’ll go across and, sanctuary or not, I’ll pull both of you out and watch you hang, be disembowelled and quartered! I’ll even do it myself!’