Corbett knew that de Guisars would ask that question and had carefully planned his response. "Well, " he answered slowly. "Yes, I can tell you. It's Duket. A member of your guild who hanged himself in Saint Mary Le Bow. I have been asked to investigate… " His voice trailed off as he noticed de Guisars's reaction. Fear? Terror? Even guilt? Corbett could not decide but the transformation in the little merchant was astonishing. His face went white and he became visibly flustered.

De Guisars rose swiftly from his seat and crossed to one of his leather trunks. Within minutes he had counted out Corbett's money and, crossing over, almost threw it into Corbett's hand as if anxious to be rid of him. "Your money, Master Clerk. " He opened the door. "It is late and… " he waved airily towards the back of his house.

Corbett rose, slid the coins into his purse and moved towards the open door. "Goodnight, Master de Guisars, " he murmured. "Perhaps I will be back. "

In the cold, dark street, Corbett heard the door slam behind him, aware that already his commission had stirred troubled waters. He looked up through the narrow gaps between the projecting houses. The sky was clear, the stars distant and very bright. Corbett knew that the night would be freezing cold and began to walk briskly down the almost deserted Cheapside. He saw shadows move in an alleyway so he drew the long dagger from beneath his cloak and the shadows receded into the darkness. Corbett stopped outside a tavern, its long ale stake and the warmth and light beckoning him in. He was cold and hungry, and he suddenly realized how little he had eaten that day, but he looked down Cheapside to the dark mass of St. Mary Le Bow and regretfully decided that the tavern would have to wait.

The church of St. Mary Le Bow stood in its own ground, behind a low stone wall, a little removed from the main thoroughfare of Cheapside.