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‘Where’s the Constable?’ Coroner Roger bellowed. A man shuffled forward apologetically. ‘Guard this door and don’t let anyone in until I return. The Karvinels have been murdered.’

The Constable gaped while the neighbours shook their heads. They would all have to pay a fine for breaking the King’s Peace. Baldwin led the way towards the High Street.

‘I was confused by the number of deaths,’ he told the others. ‘It is so rare that you find a series of killings like this. If I had thought about it, perhaps I would have come upon the truth earlier, but I didn’t. I allowed myself to be half-persuaded that the glovemaker’s death was a mere robbery, a chance theft during which the poor householder died. It is rare to find the murderer in such a case.’

‘True. The randomness of the crime makes it all but insoluble,’ Coroner Roger agreed.

‘Quite so. To be able to discover a murder one needs a reason for a man to kill. One must have a logical, comprehensible motive. So often it is based upon obvious factors.’ He paused, stopping at the side of the street while a cart rumbled past. Continuing on his way, he sighed. ‘Yet in this case we learned that there were several possibilities: the theft of Ralph’s money, the removal of a possible competitor in the race to power in the city, the theft of his stock, possibly the concealment of another crime. And then I was confused by the murder of Peter.’

‘We all were,’ Coroner Roger aid. ‘There was no sense to his death.’

‘No. And that was the point,’ Baldwin said.

The Coroner threw a look at Simon, who smiled at his confused expression and shrugged expansively.

Baldwin continued, ‘Just as it was for the Secondary Adam. Why should another Secondary die? Why should any of them? And then I hit upon the idea that another person was the target for the poison which killed Peter. Now, if someone else had helped, wittingly or unwittingly, to give the poison to Peter, then that person could also be a threat to the poisoner. And so Adam was. He had two jobs in the Cathedraclass="underline" he made and replenished candles, but he also helped deliver bread in the morning. I think he knows who delivered the bread to Peter.’

‘I begin to understand,’ breathed Coroner Roger.

‘Adam was a specific victim in his own right. A murderer would hardly leave evidence about so clearly without good reason.’

‘Ahm…’ Coroner Roger gave Simon a helpless look.

The Bailiff was not sure either where his friend was leading them. ‘Do you mean that whoever poisoned Adam wanted to leave proof so that someone in that room would be blamed with Adam’s poisoning?’

‘Yes. They probably didn’t care who was blamed so long as someone was.’

The Coroner frowned. ‘How would a killer know which was Adam’s loaf?’

‘Adam and the others in Stephen’s household sit in order of precedence. It would have been easy. And then the bottle of orpiment was left in the room so that anyone could have taken the blame.’

‘And where would the killer have found the bottle?’ the Coroner asked.

‘Ah, the poison would have been bought from an alchemist. The bottle left in Stephen’s room was yellow arsenic, but I doubt that was what poisoned Adam. Yellow arsenic is bright and obvious and anyone would have seen it on – or in – a loaf of bread. Any thief could have walked into the Choristers’ hall during the mid-day service to take the little bottle. All the members of the choir would be in the church, so it would be perfectly safe. And I believe that arsenic must be treated to make it especially poisonous. The killer still has the genuine bottle of poison, I expect.’

‘So you don’t think that Peter was killed because of his clerking for Karvinel?’ Simon asked.

‘No. I think that Jolinde was supposed to have died. And then Adam was supposed to die because he knew the killer.’

‘What of the Karvinels?’ Simon asked.

‘Who would benefit from Karvinel’s death?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Vincent le Berwe!’ the Coroner replied.

‘Exactly. Just as Vincent would lose his key enemy by the death of Ralph.’

‘There are some others,’ Coroner Roger observed.

Baldwin gave a fleeting smile. ‘Very well. But Karvinel and le Berwe were the two leading contenders in the city, I think you will agree?’

‘Oh, certainly, but there will always be contenders in any city. That doesn’t mean that one or other will murder his opponent.’

‘No, of course not,’ Baldwin agreed.

He had clasped his hands behind his back and Simon could see that he was deeply moved or concerned, although Simon was not sure why. The Bailiff was about to clear his throat and break in upon Baldwin’s thoughts when another interruption caused all three to halt.

Jen of Whyteslegh was petrified. She was convinced that she would soon be dead of terror. These three men were among the most powerful and important she had ever seen, let alone spoken to. Such folk hadn’t come near her village when she was at home with her parents. There was a worm of fear squirming in her belly as she hastened her steps towards the rearmost man and tugged at his tunic.

Instantly Simon whirled to face her. The sudden action made her stop and put a hand to her mouth as she saw him reach for his sword, but when he saw it was a young woman, Simon stayed his hand and smiled reassuringly.

‘You were comforting the child outside the house, weren’t you?’ he said. His head still ached appallingly, but he felt guilty at scaring the girl and he was determined to put her at her ease.

‘Yes, sir,’ she squeaked.

‘Did you want to speak to me?’

‘Sir, I have been told to ask, would you speak for an approver if he can deliver you a murderer?’

Baldwin and the Coroner had stopped a short distance further up the road and they watched Simon as he tried to make sense of her words. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I have a friend, sir. He has been involved in crimes, but he wants to ask for a pardon. Would you speak for him if he will give you evidence to convict another felon?’

Simon glanced back the way they had come. This early in the morning Exeter’s High Street was a bustling mess of humanity, with buskers and hawkers calling out their wares, girls threading their way through the crowd, boys darting hither and thither to offer their services to hold a horse’s reins for a period. Somewhere in the seething mass, Simon felt sure that he could feel a man’s close inspection. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘If your friend can help us to stop these murders, I’ll speak for him. Let me speak to the Coroner.’

He beckoned and Baldwin and Coroner Roger rejoined him. Roger was unconvinced. ‘Why should I allow him to surrender?’ he demanded of Jen.

‘He has been blamed for crimes he didn’t commit – he wants to stop running and hiding all his life. Please, sir, please. Let him give himself up.’

The big man puffed out his cheeks. ‘Very well, but if the fellow he accuses demands trial by combat, I can’t do anything to protect him.’

‘I wouldn’t expect you to, Coroner,’ said Sir Thomas from behind him. ‘But Vincent le Berwe paid me to destroy Nicholas Karvinel. That makes him a felon. I think he murdered Karvinel and his wife, Juliana, too.’

‘I am afraid I think that there you are wrong,’ Baldwin interrupted, ‘but I wish to arrest the murderer. Coroner, may we continue?’

‘By all means.’

‘Are you going to Vincent le Berwe’s house?’ Sir Thomas asked.

‘Yes.’