'Where were they found?' Athelstan asked.

'In Simon the miser's house. I wager they had been there since at least last night.'

Athelstan studied the corpses.

'Where in the house? Who discovered them?'

'In the parlour downstairs,' Bladdersniff replied. 'Two children in the field nearby, chasing their dog. They went in and ran out screaming; their mother sent for me.'

'Do you recognise the corpses?'

Bladdersniff shook his head but Athelstan glimpsed the look of guilt which flitted across Pike's pallid face.

'Pike!' he shouted. 'Do you know anything?'

The ditcher shuffled his mud-caked boots, wiping the sweat from his hands on his shabby jerkin.

'I want to see you about a number of things, Pike, but, first, do you know anything about this young woman?'

'She may have been a whore, Brother. I am not too sure. I'll have to rack my memory' 'Rack it!' Athelstan snapped.

He felt stronger and got to his feet. He studied the corpses more closely. The black-haired, sunburned man looked like a sailor with his shaggy, matted hair and beard but he was dressed in a gown and cloak rather than tunic and leggings. On his feet were stout walking boots though the brown leather was scuffed and scratched. The young woman was definitely comely. She wore a linen smock with petticoats beneath, pattens of good leather on her bare feet. A cheap bracelet still dangled round her left wrist. Athelstan went and pulled back the cloak of the dark-skinned man and tapped the wallet. It was empty, as was the purse on the cheap brocaded belt the young woman wore. He held out his hand.

'The money, Bladdersniff?'

The beadle coloured.

'Bladdersniff, you are my friend as well as my parishioner. I do not know the hearts and souls of murderers but I believe these people were killed, not for gain but for some other, more subtle, evil.' He paused. 'To rob the dead is a grievous sin.'