I nodded at the great bulk behind us. 'Is the church locked at night?'
'No sir, never. But I went round it as usual before checking the cloister, and all was normal. Then I was back in my house at half-past four. Prior Mortimus has given me a little clock,' he said proudly, 'and I always check the time. I slept a little, leaving David on watch, then I was woken by the great hue and cry at five.'
'So Commissioner Singleton was on his way to meet one of the monks. It does seem then that the great crime committed here a week ago was the work of a monk.'
He hesitated. 'I say no one broke in, that's all I know. It's impossible.'
'Not impossible, but unlikely, I agree.' I nodded. 'Thank you, Master Bugge, you have been most helpful.' I set my staff before me and turned away, leaving them once more to their labours.
===OO=OOO=OO===
I retraced my steps to where a green door marked the counting house. Entering without knocking, I found myself in a room that reminded me of my own world: whitewashed walls lined with shelves of ledgers, any bare patches covered with lists and bills. Two monks sat working at desks. One, counting out coins, was elderly and rheumy-eyed. The other, frowning over a ledger, was the young bearded monk who had lost at cards the night before. Behind them stood a chest with the largest lock I had ever seen; the abbey's funds, no doubt.
The two monks jumped to their feet at my entry. 'Good morning,' I said. My breath made a mist in the air, for the room was unheated. 'I seek Brother Edwig.'
The young monk glanced at an inner door. 'Brother Edwig is with the abbot—'
'In there? I'll join them.' I passed to the inner door, ignoring a hand half-raised in protest. Opening it, I found myself facing a staircase. It led to a little landing, where a window gave a view out over the white landscape. Opposite, voices could be heard behind a door. I paused outside, but could not make out what it was they were saying. I opened the door and went in.
Abbot Fabian was speaking to Brother Edwig in peevish tones. 'We should ask more. It doesn't befit our status to let it go for less than three hundred
'I need the money in my coffers now, Lord Abbot. If he'll p-pay cash for the land, we should t-take it!' Despite his stutter, there was a steely note in the bursar's voice. Abbot Fabian looked round, disconcerted.
'Oh, Master Shardlake—'
'Sir, this is a private conversation,' the bursar said, his face filled with sudden anger.
'I am afraid there is no such thing where I am concerned. If I knocked and waited at every door, who knows what I might miss?'
Brother Edwig controlled himself, fluttering his hands, once more the fussy bureaucrat. 'N-no, of course, forgive me. We w-were discussing the monastery finances, some lands we must sell to meet the costs of the building w-works, a mat-mat—' His face reddened again as he struggled for words.
'A matter of no concern to your investigation,' the abbot finished with a smile.
'Brother bursar, there is a relevant issue I would discuss.' I took a seat at an oak desk with many drawers, the only furniture in the little room apart from yet more shelves of ledgers.
'I am at your service, sir, of course.'
'Dr Goodhaps tells me that on the day he died Commissioner Singleton was working on an account book he had obtained from your office. And that afterwards it disappeared.'
'It did not d-disappear, sir. It was returned to the counting house.'
'Perhaps you could tell me what it was.'
He thought a moment. 'I cannot remember. The inf-firmary accounts, I believe. We keep accounts for all the different departments — sacristy, infirmary and so on, and a central set for the whole monastery.'
'Presumably if Commissioner Singleton took account books from you, you would keep a record.
'I m-most certainly would.' He frowned petulantly. 'But more than once he took books without telling me or my assistant, and we had to spend the day hunting for something he had taken.'
'So there is no actual record of all he took?'