The Mansions of Murder by Paul Doherty

Author:Paul Doherty [Paul Doherty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2017-07-04T04:00:00+00:00

PART FIVE

Cramp Abbey (Old English): Newgate Prison

Athelstan sat at his kitchen table staring into the flames of the fire leaping merrily in the hearth. The day was drawing on and the friar felt slightly drowsy. The parish now lay quiet. Athelstan had walked its bounds and assured himself that all was well. The menfolk were at work, the women busy in their cottages involved in a wide variety of tasks. They always impressed Athelstan with their skill, be it the stitching of a torn cloth, the management of a spinning wheel, their expertise with the churn or the baking of different breads or pastries. He had unlocked the sacristy and checked on both the parish chest as well as the arca in its secret hole beneath the floor. He had also opened St Erconwald’s chancery coffer, where important parish charters and documents were carefully stored. Once he’d satisfied himself, he moved into the sanctuary and found all was well, the Sacrament light glowing a bright red in the gathering gloom. Athelstan was scrupulous in his inspection, scrutinising the pyx, the altar, the cruets and the sanctuary furniture. The empty nave had been carefully swept, its benches, stools and leaning rods carefully stacked against either wall. The chantry chapel of St Erconwald’s was Athelstan’s pride and joy, a delight to sit in: its large window was filled with painted glass, and when the light poured through, it created a breath-taking vision of lovely colours. Dark blue turkey rugs softened the tread. The altar, celebrant’s chair, stool and bench were of the same polished oak wood as the trellised screen which closed off the chantry chapel from the rest of the church. Athelstan just loved to sit inside, lean back in the chair and contemplate the cross of San Damiano which hung above the altar. The chantry altar was majestic, a thing of beauty covered in its royal blue coping, which protected the pure white linen cloths, the best of Cambrai, used during Mass. To the left of the altar, next to the window, hung a brilliant triptych, which recounted scenes from the life of St Erconwald, a useful foil for Athelstan when he tried to educate his parishioners on the virtues of their patron saint.

Athelstan had also tried to find Judith the mummer, after rumours he’d heard about a possible quarrel between some of the parish women over the play being prepared. However, when Athelstan visited the Piebald and nearby cook shop, neither Joceyln nor Merrylegs knew anything about the quarrel or Judith’s whereabouts. Athelstan sensed they were being parsimonious with the truth but decided to leave it for a while. He believed the play was becoming increasingly divisive, and already the tensions were making themselves felt in other ways. The Hangman of Rochester, the parish painter, had decided to begin a fresco illustrating the ascent of the soul from purgatory to the gates of heaven. Each soul was depicted as a golden globe, full of light, with a little figure inside, rising through the swirling murk of smoke and flames.

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