Maundy Thursday began wet and windy, and de Wolfe was glad that after checking with the guardroom at Rougemont no new deaths had been reported overnight. Neither were there any hangings due at the gallows-tree outside the walls on Magdalene Street, so after a pint of cider and some bread and cheese with his assistants in their dreary chamber in the gatehouse, John announced that he was off to track down Robert de Helion. Matilda had said that he had a town house near the East Gate. If he was that rich, no doubt it would be one of the city's bigger dwellings on the south side of High Street, possibly in Raden Lane. He took his cloak from a wooden peg driven between the rough stones of the bare wall and left Thomas to his scribing of duplicate rolls for the next Eyre. Gwyn no doubt would find himself a game of dice with his soldier friends in the garrison while the coroner went in search of information.
He went across the drawbridge and down the hill through the outer ward to reach High Street. Ignoring the fine but steady rain, he pushed through the shoppers thronging the booths along the edge of the now muddy road and went into a quieter lane on the opposite side of the main thoroughfare. Here were houses of varying styles, many now in stone, but the majority still timber, set in long burgage plots that ran at right angles to the narrow road. Few were thatched, as this was now frowned upon in the tightly packed cities where fire was an ever-present hazard, so slate or stone tiling were the usual roofing materials.
Halfway along, he saw a young servant girl throwing used floor-rushes out into the street, where they would soon be trodden into the mud. He enquired about Robert de Helion's dwelling and the flustered child called an older manservant, who directed him to a large house on the corner of a side lane opposite. It was stone-built and, though opening directly on to the road, had an imposing front door between two pillars, which reminded him of Hilda's house in Dawlish. Shuttered windows on each side were matched by a pair on an upper floor in the modern style, suggesting that the dwelling was fairly recent.
He knocked on the door with a fist and it was opened by a middle-aged servant wearing a red tunic with an embroidered crest across the front, an extravagance usually confined to the greater lords and barons. After John had announced his rank and office, he was told that Sir Robert was at home and would undoubtedly be willing to receive him. They stepped into a vestibule, from which two leather-flap doors led into the side rooms behind the lower windows. A wooden door straight ahead of them entered the hall, a lofty chamber occupying all the centre of the building. John was pleased to see that in spite of the grandeur of the place it still had a central fire pit, unlike his own treasured hearth and chimney. The furnishings and tapestry wall-hangings were expensive, and a large dresser displayed a multitude of fine pewter and silver dishes.
Robert de Helion was sitting at a table to one side of the fire, a few smouldering logs dispelling the chill of early spring. He was surrounded by parchments, and a grey-haired clerk stood alongside his master, just as Elphin hovered over the sheriff back in Rougemont.
The merchant-knight stood up to greet de Wolfe, then motioned for him to sit on the other side of the table and waved at his emblazoned bottler to bring wine. The clerk stepped tactfully into the background and de Helion courteously enquired about the coroner's business with him. As the wineskin and goblets appeared, John took the opportunity to study Robert at close quarters, as he had seen him only at a distance in the cathedral. He was above average height, slim and erect, with a head of dark brown hair cut severely in the Norman style, the sides and back being shaved up to an abrupt ledge that ran horizontally around his head. The face was strong and brooding, with a passing resemblance to John's own, the big nose and long jaw being similar.
'I have come to make enquiries about one of your cogs, as well as the general situation in Axmouth,' he began after he had sipped the excellent wine.
De Helion looked puzzled. 'Is this not a strange task for a coroner, Sir John?' he asked. 'I thought that your duties were in the courts and investigating deaths?'
John nodded and explained more fully. 'I am looking into a murder in Axmouth, where the dead youth was a shipman on one of your cogs. I am told that you own The Tiger, is that not so?'
The manor-lord of Bridport still failed to comprehend. 'Indeed, that vessel does belong to me, along with about a dozen other ships! But I know nothing of the death of a crew member, though I suspect that fatal brawling and disputes are all too common amongst seamen.'
De Wolfe shook his head. 'This was no wharf-side brawl. The lad was strangled, then his body buried to avoid detection. I have been waiting to question the shipmaster and crew, but the damned thing has vanished over the horizon.'