'What about this vessel The Tiger?' he asked. 'I gather her master is Martin Rof. Tell me about him and the ship's owner.'
Under this interrogation, Roger Watts was beginning to wish that he had not chosen this morning to call upon Mistress Hilda, but the coroner's expression told him that he could not prevaricate.
'Martin Rof is a rough diamond, sure enough!' he began, nervously studying his wine cup. 'A good seaman, but a hard master to his crew. Like most of us, he sails from all the ports along this coast, but mainly Axmouth, where he lives. His cog The Tiger is well known on both sides of the Channel.'
This told de Wolfe nothing he wanted to know. 'But what about the man himself? Is he honest and to be trusted?'
Roger Watts gave a hollow laugh. 'Who can tell that, Sir John? I hope I am honest, though I admit I do not shed tears if the tally-man happens to forget a few casks or bales now and then. Martin Rof has a reputation for being even more forgetful about paying his Customs dues, but few would hold that against him.'
Aware of his own vulnerability in that regard, John did not pursue the issue. 'Is anything else known about him? This lad who was slain was a member of his crew, though admittedly the killing occurred after the cog berthed in Axmouth.'
Roger shrugged. 'Knowing nothing of the matter, I can't venture to say. But why would he be involved in the death of one of his own men? I admit I've sometimes wanted to slay some useless sod in my crew, but I've never actually done it!'
He tried to inject some levity into the talk, but it fell flat with de Wolfe.
'The Keeper mentioned piracy along these coasts,' growled the coroner. 'What do you know of that?'
Again Roger Watts looked uncomfortable, not that he had any fear of being branded a pirate himself, but seafarers - like tinners - stuck together and were reluctant to tell tales to law officers.
'There is no doubt that attacks and pillaging and killing go on out at sea,' he admitted, squirming a little on his bench. 'But these are almost all down to bastards from either Brittany or the French coast, some of whom claim to be at war with England.'
Hilda, who had been listening attentively, broke in again. 'I recall Thorgils saying that vessels from the far south - Spain and even the Middle Sea - used to come ravaging into the Channel and as far as the Severn Sea. He told me how he had once outsailed an oared galley that must have come from the Barbary Coast.'
John nodded. 'I remember that story of his,' he said gently. 'He was always one for a good tale. You must miss his company, Hilda.'
She inclined her head but smiled sadly. 'He was a good and kind man. He did not deserve the fate that took him from me. Like all wives of shipmen, I always expected to hear of his loss from storm and shipwreck, but not murder!'
'That was piracy, by foreign devils,' agreed de Wolfe. 'But I have heard of some home-grown pirates in these waters. Is that so, Roger?'
The shipmaster decided he could stall no longer. 'It is, unfortunately. The men from Lyme have the worst reputation, but Dorset was always a barbarous place. Though most of us are concerned only with the safe delivery of our cargoes, some vessels prey on others, may God rot their souls on Judgment Day!'
'Is it known who indulge themselves in this murderous business?' demanded the coroner.
Roger Watts shook his head. 'Who is to know what goes on once out of sight of land?' he said warily. 'It is legal and indeed to be commended if an English ship attacks a Frenchie, given that there is a state of war between us most of the time. Those bastards are quick enough to pillage our vessels.'
'Yet there are widows and fatherless children in this port for whom English shipmen are said to be responsible!' cut in Hilda, her lovely face set with concern. She was well known for her generosity to the families of men lost at sea.
'We certainly hear tales that suggest that is true,' answered Watts. 'But how can it be proven? A pirate must kill every crewman on the stricken ship if he is to avoid retribution. And the vessel must be scuttled after the cargo is seized, to remove all traces of the crime.'
De Wolfe scowled at this apparent impasse. 'Do the rumours of piracy involve Axmouth?' he snapped. 'And does this Martin Rof's name ever crop up in discussion of the problem?'
Roger shrugged hopelessly. This was a conversation in which he would rather not take part. 'I've heard nothing, Crowner - but any man who bandies about the name of a supposed pirate is asking for a sudden death!'
John fixed him with his brooding eyes. 'And a sudden death is exactly what I am concerned about in Axmouth!' he growled.
After the master of the St Radegund had thankfully made his escape from the coroner's interrogation, John was left alone with Hilda. The little maid Alice had hung about the doorway but was sent packing by her mistress, who felt she needed no chaperone now, especially with a man with whom she had lain intermittently since they were youngsters rolling in the hayloft in Holcombe.