'No, sir, I did not. The abbot's servants found it in his room when they cleared it, s-saw my writing and returned it to me.'
'But when we spoke earlier you said you were unsure which book Commissioner Singleton took.'
'I — I had forgotten. The book is unimportant. I can s-send it to you, sir, you can see for yourself.'
'No. We will come with you now and fetch it.'
He hesitated.
'Well?'
'Of course.'
I motioned Mark to stand aside, and we followed him across the cloister yard, Mark taking up a lamp to light the way. Brother Edwig unlocked the counting house and we climbed the stairs to his private office. He unlocked his desk and pulled a thin blue book from a drawer.
'This is it, sir. See for yourself.'
I looked inside. Indeed there were no neat columns, only scrawled jottings and arithmetical reckonings.
'I will take this for now.'
'B-by all means. B-but may I ask, as this is a private office, if you would come to me before taking any more books? To prevent confusion?'
I ignored the question. 'I see from your other records that the monastery has a large surplus, larger this year than last. Sales of land have brought in fresh capital. Why then is there objection to Brother Gabriel's proposals for repair of the church?'
He looked at me seriously. 'Brother Gabriel would spend everything we have on the r-repairs. He would allow all else to f-fall down. The abbot will give him money for repairs, but we have to beat him down or he will take all. It is a matter of negotiation.'
It was all so plausible. 'Very well,' I said. 'That is all. For now. One thing more. You mentioned Alice Fewterer. The girl is under my special protection, and if any harm befalls her you will find yourself at once under arrest and sent to London for enquiry.' I turned and marched out.
===OO=OOO=OO===
'Ways of negotiation, indeed,' I said as we walked to the infirmary. 'He's as slippery as they come.'
'He could not have killed Singleton, though. He was away. And a fat little hog like that couldn't have struck his head off.'
'He could have killed Simon Whelplay. Perhaps there is more than one of them acting together in this business.'
Back in our room, we studied the account book. It seemed, as the bursar said, to contain nothing more than random calculations and jottings, all in his neat round hand, going back years by the faded look of the ink in the earlier part. I tossed it aside, rubbing my tired eyes.
'Perhaps Commissioner Singleton thought he had found something when he had not?'
'No. I don't think so. From what Alice said his accusation was specific, he said the book shed new light on the year's accounts.' I exclaimed and banged my fist into my palm. 'Where are my wits? What if he has more than one book with a blue cover? This may not be the one!'
'We could go back now, and turn the counting house upside down.'
'No. I am exhausted. Tomorrow. Now let's rest, it will be a busy day. There's Singleton's funeral to get through, then we must go to Scarnsea to see Justice Copynger. I want to talk to Jerome too. And we should investigate the fish pond.'
Mark groaned. 'Truly there is no rest for Lord Cromwell's emissaries. At least we may find ourselves too busy to be frightened.'
'With any luck. And now I am going to bed. Say a prayer for some progress tomorrow.'
===OO=OOO=OO===
We woke early next morning, just as dawn was breaking. I rose and scraped frost from the inside of the window. The rising sun was casting fingers of pink light across the snow. It was a beautiful but sterile scene.
'No sign of a thaw.' I turned to find Mark standing shirtless by the fire, a shoe in his hand, staring around the room with a puzzled expression. He raised a hand.
'What was that? I heard something.'
'I heard nothing.'
'It was like a footstep. I did hear it.' Frowning, Mark threw the door open. There was nobody there.