'Enough for now, Dr Goodhaps,' I said gently. 'Go on.'
Tears came into his eyes. 'I thought they'd killed him, I thought it was an execution and I was next. I looked at their faces, looked to see which one was carrying an axe. They all looked so grim. That Carthusian was there, smiling horribly, and he called out "Vengeance is mine, saieth the Lord."'
'He said that, did he?'
'Yes. The abbot snapped, "Be quiet," at him, and came over to me. "Master Goodhaps," he said, '"you must tell us what to do," and then I realized they were all as frightened as I.'
'Might I say something?' Mark ventured. I nodded.
'That Carthusian couldn't have struck someone's head off. It would take strength and balance.'
'Yes, it would,' I nodded. 'You're quite right.' I returned to the old man. 'What did you say to the abbot?'
'He said we should consult the civil authorities, but I knew Master Cromwell should be told first. I knew there would be political implications. The abbot said that the gatekeeper, old Bugge, had reported meeting Singleton on his night rounds not an hour before. He told Bugge he was on his way to meet one of the monks.'
'At that time? Did he say whom?'
'No. Singleton sent him away with a flea in his ear apparently.'
'I see. What then?'
'I ordered all the monks to strict silence. I said no letters should leave this place without my approval, and sent my letter out via the village postboy.'
'You did well, Master Goodhaps, your thinking was quite right.'
'Thank you.' He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. 'I was sore afraid, sir. I came back here and here I have stayed. I am sorry, Master Shardlake, this has unmanned me. I should have made enquiries, but — I am only a scholar.'
'Well, we are here now. Tell me, who found the body?'
'The infirmarian, Brother Guy. That dark monk.' He shuddered. 'He said there was an old brother sick in the infirmary and he came to get some milk from the kitchen. He has a key. He unlocked the outer door then went up the little hall to the kitchen. When he opened the door and stepped into the pool of blood he raised the alarm.'
'So the kitchen is normally locked at night?'
He nodded. 'Yes, to stop the monks and servants helping themselves. The monks think of nothing but stuffing their bellies, you'll see how fat most of them are.'
'So the murderer had a key. Like the meeting the gatekeeper reported, that points to someone from inside the monastery. But you said in your letter that the church was desecrated, a relic stolen?'
'Yes. We were all still standing in the kitchen when one of the monks brought news that—' he swallowed, 'that a cock had been sacrificed on the church altar. Later they found the relic of the Penitent Thief stolen too. The monks are saying some outsider came in to desecrate the church and steal the relic, encountered the commissioner on one of his late wanderings, and killed him.'
'But how would an outsider have entered the kitchen?'
He shrugged. 'Bribed a servant to make a copy of the key perhaps? That's what the abbot thinks, though the cook is the only servant with a key.'
'What about the relic? Was it valuable?'
'That horrible thing! A hand nailed to a piece of wood. It was in a big gold casket set with stones: they were real emeralds, I believe. It is believed to cure broken or twisted bones, but it's just another fake to gull the foolish.' For a moment his voice rose with a reformer's ardour. 'The monks are more upset about the relic than about Singleton's murder.'
'What do you think?' I asked. 'Who do you think could have done this?'
'I don't know what to think. The monks talk of Devil-worshippers breaking in to steal the relic. But they hate us, you can feel it in the very air. Sir, now you are here, may I go home?'
'Not just yet. Soon, perhaps.'
'At least I will have you and the boy here.'
There was a knock at the door, and the servant poked his head in.
'The abbot has returned, sir.'