'Dark deeds certainly. Tell me, sir, where did you find the two corpses? The man and the woman?'

The bailiff scratched a cut on his unshaven chin.

'Ah, that's right.' The fellow pointed. 'Over there, Brother.'

Athelstan went to the spot indicated and looked back towards the lych gate. The bailiff came over, his mattock resting against his shoulder like a spear.

'What's the problem, Brother?'

'Let's pretend I'm a murderer.' Athelstan smiled. 'Or we are both murderers. We have corpses to dispose of. So, when do we bury them?'

'Why, Brother,' the surprised bailiff replied, 'at the dead of night.'

'Now we can't be seen,' Athelstan said, 'from the bottom of the meadow.'

'Ah, you mean where that strange group live? Yes, you're right, Brother, the swell of the hill hides all view.'

'And if we dig this side of the oak tree?' Athelstan asked. 'We are hidden from any view of people in the tavern. Correct?'

'Agreed.' The fellow, now enjoying himself, was preening at being patronised by this friend of the powerful lord coroner.

'So, how would you bring the corpses here?' Athelstan continued. 'If they're taken from the tavern, chambermaids, servants might see us.'

'Ah yes, Brother, but, at the dead of night, everyone's asleep. And look.' He walked away, gesturing with his hand. 'We can see the tavern, its roofs and gables but, have you noticed, the trees hide the view from most of the windows?'

'Sharp-eyed.' Athelstan smiled, dug into his purse and gave the man a coin. The bailiff almost danced with embarrassed pride.

'So, it's possible the corpses were brought from the tavern at night, loaded on to a handcart, or barrow, its axles newly oiled, the wheels covered in straw?'

'Yes, that's what we do in the city, when we take a cart out at the dead of night. Otherwise, it's a complaint to the mayor.'

'But let's suppose that they didn't come from the tavern. It's too dangerous to bring them from the river because, as you say, those strange people are there, waiting for St Michael.' The bailiff looked mystified. 'Come on, Sharp Eyes,' Athelstan joked. 'Where else could the murderers have come from?'