'We've not learnt much about this lad's death in two weeks,' complained Gwyn, throwing a flat stone to skim across the calm sea before them.
John rubbed his bristly chin, which was again overdue for a shave. 'He comes back from his sea trip different from the one before, as then he seemed quite happy,' recounted the coroner. 'But this time he is anxious, worried and depressed, as if something lies heavy on his conscience.'
'And he has considerably more money than before,' added Gwyn. 'So what was different about the second voyage?'
There was a long silence, then de Wolfe offered his opinion. 'I reckon he witnessed something violent or shocking. And that something was lucrative, as even though he was a lowly ship's boy he gets a hand-out as a part-share in whatever happened.'
Gwyn threw another stone and a seagull rose, screaming indignantly. 'And though smuggling might pay well, it's hardly likely to upset him - so what else is most likely?'
The two old friends looked at each other as they sat on the pebbles.
'Piracy!' snapped John. 'He must have seen some bloody deeds, and a sensitive lad, aiming for the cloister, might well be shocked and revolted.'
His officer nodded his agreement but still had some doubts. 'But why strangle him much later onshore? If he had kicked up a fuss at the killing of another crew, they could have just slit his throat and chucked him overboard. I'm sure that bunch of ruffians on The Tiger would do that without a second thought.'
The coroner climbed to his feet. 'There must be a reason, but we just don't know what it is - yet! Let's find this damned clerk of ours and see what he has to offer.'
CHAPTER SEVEN
In which Crowner John defeats an ambush
What Thomas de Peyne learnt was repeated that evening over supper at the house in Martin's Lane. John had to be circumspect in what topics he launched with Matilda, as some sent her into a rage, such as any mention of the Bush Inn or Dawlish. Even a mention of Gwyn or Thomas provoked heavy sarcasm, as she considered one to be a Celtic savage and the other a pervert, even though the little priest had long been restored to grace. Many other subjects failed to stir her from her almost permanent mood of sullen depression, but he could usually depend upon tales concerning the Church or the aristocracy to spark her attention. He had previously related to her the mystery of the seaman's death in Axmouth, without getting much response, but now he added what had been obtained from Father Matthew, the parish priest of Seaton. He refrained from telling her that it was Thomas who had interviewed the incumbent and craftily embroidered his tale with a description of the church.
'For such a small and mean village, the church is surprisingly neat,' he observed as he cut some slices from a boiled fowl with his dagger and slid them on to her trencher of yesterday's bread. 'Built of stone, quite small, but a bell-cote at one end and a little porch on the south.'
Matilda stopped chewing for a moment and nodded at him. 'Size is not, everything, even in a church. It is the quality of the priest that matters. At my St Olave's, which is tiny, we are blessed with a saint in the shape of Julian Fulk.'
Fulk was her hero in a cassock, and if John had not known her better he might have suspected that she had amorous designs on Julian Fulk. As far as he was concerned, Fulk was short, fat and oily. He had once even been a suspect in a series of murders, and John regretted that he had not turned out to be the culprit. However, he stifled the thought and carried on with his tale.
'This Father Matthew, who seemed an upright and venerable man, did his best to help us over the killing, but of course his vow of silence concerning confessions severely limited what he could tell us.'
Matilda visibly bristled. 'I should think so, indeed! I trust you did not badger the man to break his faith ... the confessional is inviolate, John! ,
'I am well aware of that, wife,' said de Wolfe in his most placatory tone. 'But there is surely a difference between what is said with the intention of it being within the doctrines of the Church and other comments made outwith that rigid rule.'
Matilda glared at him suspiciously. 'What d'you mean by that?'
'Well, a man confessing his sins to a priest is one thing. But if the same man casually tells the priest that he has bought a pound of pork for his dinner, then the priest would hardly refuse to repeat that to someone else on the grounds that it was a sacred secret!'
'I think you are being facetious, husband! Trust you to try to poke fun at the Holy Church. And what sense does this make to your story?'
'The good man admitted that the dead youth had come to speak to him on two occasions after he had returned from his voyage. As you clearly say, he could tell us nothing of the nature of his discourse with the lad, but he told us that Simon was very distressed and fearful for his immortal soul.'