'No, I didn't.' Fourbour looked away. 'Amelia was a caring, loving young woman. She had been grievously hurt by the desertion of her lover and the death of her child. And, before you ask, never once did she mention him.' For ar moment he looked as though he were going to say more, but clearly he thought better of it.

'What were you going to say?' Corbett asked quietly. 'Please tell me.' He leaned forward and gripped the man's wrist. 'I apologize for my blunt questions. Your wife may have had a sad life but she had a tragic death. She met her murderer out on the moors. Are you going to allow him or her to walk away scot free?'

Fourbour opened his wallet and brought out an ivory necklace. It glinted and shone in the candlelight.

'It's beautiful,' Corbett murmured. 'And rather costly.'

'It was Amelia's,' Fourbour said. 'And, although she never said, I always believed it was given to her by her lover. No reason, it's just that she carried it everywhere.'

'Anything else?' Corbett asked.

'Once, just once, I went out after her on the moors. Amelia began complaining about the villagers. I told her they were poor people. Amelia looked at me and laughed. She said Hunstanton might be richer than I thought.' He shrugged. 'I didn't know what she meant. Do you, Sir Hugh?'

'No.' Corbett got to his feet and held out his hand. 'Master Fourbour, I thank you for seeing me. And, if necessary, I will come back to you again.'

Fourbour heaved a sigh of relief and left the hall as Gurney's steward ushered Robert the reeve into the room. Robert looked surlily at Corbett, who waved him to the empty stool. The reeve pulled his cloak about him, his fat face suffused with a malicious arrogance.

'I am a busy man, Sir Hugh. Ask your questions but, before you threaten me, may I remind you that Gilbert and his mother were found guilty of murder by the court. And we did not intend to kill her.'