Falconer's Crusade by Ian Morson — Read

Falconer was preparing himself for the banquet as well as he could. He took his best, indeed his only other, robe from the chest at the foot of his bed and spread it out. It was dull and green rather than black, and damp to his touch. He sighed - even the fur trim was moth-eaten. He spread it in front of the fire across his only chair and tried to draw some reasonable conclusions from the knowledge gained over the last few days, praying for guidance from Aristotle. Margaret Gebetz had been Fyssh's servant with little or no opportunity to steal a book from anyone else. Could he deduce that the book had been Fyssh's? Did it contain a secret, and was he therefore forced to kill her to keep her silent? Falconer was sure she had known her assailant. That fitted too. But if the murder of Moulcom was linked, why would Fyssh have committed that act, too? Unless Moulcom somehow knew of the first murder and had been using it against Fyssh. Perhaps that was why Moulcom had been at Beke's Inn that day. Both victims could have been killed because of some dangerous knowledge associated with the missing book. Now others had seen the book - would they be next? And was Fyssh the killer? Falconer hesitated.

‘Forgive me, Aristotle. I am leaping to conclusions again. ' But what else fitted? There was something suspicious, too, about Bonham's behaviour, what with the bloody knife. And he had lied about the contents of the book. But Falconer did not have enough facts to promote him above Fyssh. Of course there was also de Stepyng. Falconer sighed. With him he had no more than a feeling. He might as well suspect the chancellor.