'And you think Mistress Vestler did the same?'

'Athelstan, corpses don't appear under oak trees unless they are put there!'

'But you said Mistress Vestler was a good woman?'

'Oh, she and her husband were kind and friendly but they did have a partiality for gold and silver.' He stamped his boot on the ground. 'God knows what lies beneath here but I don't think Kathryn will placate Sir Henry Brabazon with coy smiles and fluttering eyelids.' He turned round.

Flaxwith and another bailiff were following. Behind them, triumphant as a knight returning from a tourney, waddled Samson, a half-roasted rabbit between his jaws.

'Brother, I thought life had become too quiet and peaceful. Now we have Mistress Vestler, a murderess, perhaps many times over, while your parishioners are going to receive the shock of their lives.'

He marched back through the garden into the taproom.

Master Hengan appeared in the taproom but Sir John shook his head, gesturing at him to leave. He beckoned at the ale-master who was standing in the kitchen doorway, scullions and maids thronging behind him.

'Come in here!' Sir John ordered. 'Go on, all of you, take a seat!'

The maids and scullions did. The potboys sat on the floor, the spit-turners took their place on either side of the fireplace.

'Now, I have questions for you. Do any of you recall a clerk known as Bartholomew Menster who came here, sweet on a chambermaid, Margot Haden?'

'Oh yes.' The ale-master spoke up. 'A tall man, Bartholomew, quiet and studious.' He moved his body in imitation. 'Shoulders rather hunched. He really liked our Margot. He often came here after he had finished work in the Tower.' He pointed to the far corner near the garden door. 'He'd always sit there and eat, wait for Margot to finish.'