For the Love of Old Bones - and other stories (Templar Series) Read Online Free

she was back, took up her pack and went off. Ed came in a few minutes after her, and he went to his seat at the back. He stayed there for a good bit, before taking a game of dice.’
    ‘Who were the other players?’ Baldwin asked.
    ‘The Coroner’s men-at-arms, Sir Baldwin. I’m sure they’ll remember him, he played with them for a long time.’
    ‘When did he leave?’
    ‘Early evening. One of the girls spent her time trying to tempt him, but he told her to piss off, and walked out.’
    ‘So by now he was more bitter? In his cups he became angry?’
    ‘I suppose so, Sir Baldwin. But like I say, he left here long after her.’

    Sir Baldwin led the way to the street. There he paused and motioned to his servant, spoke to him quietly, and sent him off on some errand. Then he and I began to make our way back to the Dean’s house, but to my surprise he turned off and instead headed back towards that damned alley. By now Sir Baldwin’s attitude was making me quite warm. The man was deliberately taking over my inquest, and wouldn’t even explain what he was up to. I tried to control my growing annoyance, but I think a little of my feeling must have come across from the way he stopped and stared at me.
    ‘Is there something the matter, Sir Eustace?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes, there is,’ I declared hotly. ‘God’s bones! What in the name of hell are we going down here for?’
    He began to walk again. ‘I have an inclination that we might see something in daylight which we missed before. Clearly the girl had her purse stolen or she mislaid it between leaving the inn and going to the alehouse. I merely wonder whether she might have lost it here.’
    I kicked a pebble from my path, but there was little to say. His decision was logical, and the purse had to be somewhere. Like him, I knew that most thieves would drop a purse once they had emptied it. There was no point keeping hold of something which could prove guilt.
    It was only a short way from the inn, and soon we were in the gloomy corridor. The place where her body had lain was scuffed and muddy from all the feet which had come to see where she had died, and I was confident the knight was wasting his time. I leaned against the wall while he probed and searched. Then he gave a short exclamation, and sprang towards me, snatching something from the ground at my feet.
    ‘What is it?’ I asked, and in answer the grinning knight held out a small circle of yellow metal, crusted with mud.
    ‘So the thief dropped her ring as he fled?’ I suggested. His look sent a shiver of expectation trickling down my spine.
    He ignored my words and peered at the wall. It was of cob and had probably been the outer wall of a house, but now it simply enclosed a garden. Baldwin turned and went back to the street, going to the front door and asking the bemused owner if he could go into the garden. As we walked through the house, he gave me a dry little smile. ‘If someone stole her purse, he may well have taken out all the coins and thrown it, empty, over the nearest wall. That would be sensible, wouldn’t it?’
    I grunted. As far as I was concerned the man was a fool, wasting my time as well as his own. I saw no reason to alter my opinion when we arrived in the yard. Sir Baldwin crouched and scrabbled amongst the weeds near the wall. And then, to my astonishment, he lifted up her purse. I couldn’t mistake it.
    He hefted it in his hand, head on one side as he surveyed me. ‘It’s still full, Coroner,’ he said softly, and there was a chill coldness in his voice and manner which I didn’t like. But I felt it would be better not to take umbrage. Saying no more, he turned away and stalked from the place.
    We had only gone a short way down the street when it happened. I should have expected it, of course, but when the tranter shouted and pointed at me, it was still a shock.
    ‘ Murderer! Bigamist !’
    The blood turned to ice in my veins, my bowels felt as though they had turned to