'You shouldn't be here,' he repeated.

'Brother, I feel the way you look.' She half-smiled.

'Three corpses,' Athelstan explained. 'Found in the old miser's house in the fields at the end of the parish.' He pointed to the man with the crossbow bolt buried deep in his chest. 'He looks like a sailor or some wandering minstrel. The young woman? Pike thinks she may be a whore but this young man troubles me.'

'Why?' Benedicta asked.

'The other two appear to have been killed immediately: first the man by the crossbow bolt, then the young woman's throat was probably slit soon afterwards. She's light, rather thin. If the assassin was a man, she would pose no real problem. However, this other one.'

Athelstan got up and crouched beside the cart. He carefully examined the young man's head and noticed how the hair was matted with blood, masking a blow to the back of the head.

'Now, this victim was struck on the back of the head. He fell to the ground and his throat was cut: unlike the others, he's had his belt, jerkin, cloak and boots removed.'

'A thief?'

'But if it was a thief,' Athelstan continued, 'why didn't he steal the young woman's bracelet, or empty their purses?'

'So?'

'It's only a guess.'

Athelstan paused as Pike abruptly lurched back into the alleyway to be sick.

'He never did have much of a stomach,' Watkin growled. 'When Widow Trimplc's cat was crushed under a cart and its belly split…'

'Yes, yes,' Athelstan interrupted, 'there's no need to continue, Watkin: Bonaventure might hear you.'