The Butcher of St Peter's: (Knights Templar 19) by Michael Jecks Page B

demonstrated the newer hinged shutters, pulling them closed. They were built of strong wood and a large metal bracket was
     set in each. When the shutters were drawn closed, a beam of heavy wood, hinged at one end, could be turned up and over to
     drop through the brackets. A peg set into the wood completed the lock by stopping the beam from rising again once it had fallen
     to rest in the metal fixings. ‘This should deter any robbers, but it didn’t stop this fellow,’ he said.
    ‘How did he get in?’ Baldwin asked.
    ‘Look for yourself.’
    Baldwin went to the window, removed the peg and lifted the bar from the brackets. Pushing the shutters open, he sprang out
     lightly, then pushed the shutters closed once more. ‘Edgar, put the bar across again.’
    His servant roused himself sufficiently to obey, and they all waited, listening to the scrabbling and scraping as Baldwin
     tried to open the shutters on his own. Soon they saw a blade appear between the two edges. It lifted and moved, and the beam
     shifted slightly, rising to hit the peg, but then it fell.
    In answer to his master’s enquiry, Edgar spoke. ‘No. That way, it’d take all night to move the beam an inch, Sir Baldwin.’
    There was a muffled curse, and then, ‘Edgar, open the shutters again. And bring a light. A candle will do.’ When his servant
     obeyed, Baldwin was still outside, this time peering at the wood with interest. He took the candle and held it on one side
     of each shutter in turn while he peered at the other side, looking for cracks and weaknesses. ‘I see. Lock them again.’
    Edgar did so, smiling at Cecily as though this was all a normal part of his duties, and waited. A few moments later there
     was a scratching noise, and then the wooden peg fell from its hole and dangled at the end of its restraining string. Only
     a short time later the bar jerked a little and lifted. It rose until it was free of the bracket, and the shutter opened.
    ‘A simple task,’ Baldwin said. ‘You need a better craftsman to build your shutters in future.’
    Daniel gave grudging acknowledgement. ‘I didn’t expect you to find it so swiftly.’
    ‘How is it done?’ Sir Peregrine asked with interest.
    ‘There is a long splinter in one plank,’ Baldwin explained. ‘When you prise it to one side, it reveals where the carpenter’s
     auger pierced the timbers to make the hole for the peg. Slide a knife’s point into that little hole, and you push out the
     peg. Once that’s done, all you need do is lift the bar. Very easy. So!’ he concluded, clapping his hands with decision. ‘Replace
     that shutter, or cover the splinter with a fresh piece of timber, and the draw-latch will be prevented from entering again.’
    ‘My thanks,’ Daniel said sarcastically. ‘And in the meantime, if he is still determined, what then?’
    Sir Peregrine was able to answer that. ‘It is a man going about at night with a dagger and entering your property, my friend.
     You know what you can do to him. Kill him.’

Chapter Six
    He was dead. Fitting that the man should have been granted the privilege of dying not only in the friary, but actually on
     the Sabbath! That was a rare honour, and reflected the pride which John had felt in winning this man for the Order.
    Not that the Bishop would want to see it that way, of course. And there could be some fighting about the way that the friary
     had taken the man’s money already. Still, the money had been bequeathed before his death, and then passed over to the friary.
     If the canons on the cathedral close wanted to impose new rules affecting everyone, it was only their own fault if people
     sought means to evade the new costs. Why should the friary obey the cathedral? The latter demanded ancient rights and privileges
     to be honoured by all, but then trampled on the rights of the newer Orders like John’s. The canons were only fools who segregated
     themselves a little, when all was said and done. They had no real