he had no wish to examine bodies when he could be looking for Matilde.
‘That is a pity,’ said de Wetherset. ‘The death should be investigated, and I have taken the liberty of informingBishop Gynewell about your abilities. He is sure to ask for your assistance, Brother.’
Michael glared at him. ‘That was a high-handed thing to have done.’
‘You are about to receive a lucrative prebend,’ said de Wetherset sternly. ‘Surely, you will want to repay that honour by offering Gynewell the benefit of your expertise? If this city has a problem, and it is in your power to eliminate it, then surely you will not deny him?’
Michael continued to glare. ‘That is unfair.’
‘So is life,’ said de Wetherset with an unrepentant shrug. ‘I imagine the bishop will want to see you first thing tomorrow morning, so be grateful I warned you in advance. Meanwhile, Simon and I have elected to share this chamber with you tonight, rather than bed in the hall below. Aylmer was murdered by someone who might still be there, and we have no wish to be stabbed as we sleep.’
‘He was stabbed as he slept?’ asked Suttone in alarm.
Simon shot de Wetherset a withering look. ‘No, he was not. His body was slumped across his bed in a way that made it clear he was inspecting his possessions when he was killed.’
‘It was not his possessions he was inspecting,’ said de Wetherset, sharp in his turn. ‘You cannot leave the truth unspoken, if Michael is to solve this case. He was holding your holy chalice – he may even have been in the process of stealing it – while the rest of us were at our devotions.’
Michael sighed wearily. ‘Aylmer was killed while in the commission of a crime?’
Simon grimaced. ‘We do not know that. He was holding my cup, and perhaps he did have designs on it, but we will never know his intentions, and I am inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was a priest, and so would have been wary of committing evil acts on sacred ground.’
‘Was he alone when he was attacked?’ asked Michael. ‘Were there any witnesses to his death?’
‘The bells here are very loud,’ replied de Wetherset. ‘I think the Gilbertines installed some especially large ones with intention of out-clanging the Carmelites up the road. The upshot is that once the damned things get going for the dawn offices, it is impossible to sleep. Everyone quit the guest-hall this morning, and either left the priory to begin business in the city or went to attend prime.’
‘Aylmer did not, if he was admiring other people’s property,’ Michael pointed out.
Simon inclined his head. ‘That is true. However, he definitely accompanied us to the chapel, because he walked across the yard at my side. Then I went to stand near the front, so everyone could hear me singing, and I suppose he must have slipped out later.’
‘The killer must have slipped out, too,’ said Michael.
De Wetherset nodded. ‘Of course. But the chapel is dark in the mornings, because the Gilbertines cannot afford many candles. It is impossible to make out the man next to you, let alone identify which of the brethren, nuns and guests were or were not present. Any of them could have stabbed Aylmer.’
‘Except me,’ said Simon firmly. ‘I was singing and had I left, my absence would have been noted.’
‘Is that true?’ asked Michael of de Wetherset.
De Wetherset raised laconic eyebrows. ‘He certainly has a penetrating voice,’ he said, giving the impression he was not as impressed with it as was its owner.
‘How many people are in this community?’ asked Michael, becoming intrigued with the case, despite his resent ment at the way in which it was being foisted on him.
‘There are twelve brothers and fifteen nuns,’ replied Simon. ‘The sisters’ duties revolve around the six or soinmates of St Sepulchre’s Hospital, which is part of the Gilbertines’ foundation. And there are a score of lay-brothers who manage the gardens and the
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