Read Online Crowner Royal (Crowner John Mysteries) by Bernard Knight - Free Book Online
Authors: Bernard Knight
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Mystery & Detective, Police Procedural, rt, Coroners - England, Devon (England), Great Britain - History - Angevin period; 1154-1216, lorraine
Ads: Link
just identified this corpse from the river as being that of the palace clerk who was murdered in Westminster yesterday.’
Godard, who took his other name from estates his father had owned in one of the Christian kingdoms of Outremer, held up his arm in salute, but looked suspiciously at de Wolfe.
‘I have heard of you, Sir John. What are you doing here?’
His tone was guarded, but not overtly hostile, as his eyes flickered from the coroner to the body on the cart and then to his pair of henchmen standing in front of it.
‘This man was stabbed yesterday within the enclave of the royal palace and then fell into the river. I need to investigate his death and bring the culprit to justice.’
Godard shrugged and virtually repeated what William had said. ‘This is a task for us, sir. We perform your function in this city.’
Bottling up his exasperation with difficulty, John made a further effort to reason with the man. ‘I grant you that this was the situation until recently,’ he grated. ‘But King Richard expressly directed the appointment of a coroner to deal with all relevant deaths within the verge of the royal court, wherever it may be. He ordered the Chief Justiciar to implement his wish and I have been appointed by him to perform that function.’
He deliberately emphasized the names to convey the importance of his office, but Godard seemed unimpressed.
‘Ha, Hubert Walter! He’s well out of favour in London these days, so I’d not be too ready to flaunt your warrant from him.’
De Wolfe sighed heavily. He knew Godard was referring to the harsh way in which a couple of months previously Hubert had quelled the popular revolt against taxation led by William fitz Osbert, known as ‘Longbeard’. The leaders of the rebellion had been cornered in the church of St Mary le Bow, which Hubert had set on fire, driving the rebels out to be dragged to an agonising death at Tyburn. Since then, his unpopularity over the increasing burden of taxes had been worsened by accusations that he had deliberately ordered the violation of sanctuary.
‘He appointed me on the orders of King Richard!’ snapped de Wolfe. ‘Are you challenging royal authority? That smacks of treason, sir!’
An expression of sullen obstinacy came over Godard’s plain face. ‘I’m challenging nothing – but the right to appoint one sheriff for London and another for Middlesex was granted by the first King Henry when he granted the city its charter. If you want to dispute that, then take the matter to the mayor, to whom I am responsible.’
‘I may do just that!’ rasped the coroner, his simmering anger now rising to boiling point. ‘But that will take time, and in this blistering heat that cadaver will start to stink, especially as it has already spent a night in this putrid river!’
The sheriff considered this for a moment, stroking his full belly with one hand as an aid to thought.
‘I’m a reasonable man, Sir John. I accept your point about the likely dissolution of the corpse in this weather,’ he said mildly. ‘Why do we not examine him together, then at least your mind will be assuaged about the cause of death?’
Somewhat reluctantly, de Wolfe grunted an agreement, but did not give in completely. ‘What about getting the fellow back to Westminster? He is in minor orders and deserves a proper funeral before he turns green!’
‘I still wish to hold my own enquiry, as is the city’s right,’ declared Godard pedantically. ‘After that, you can do what you like with him.’
De Wolfe managed to hold his tongue until after he had had the opportunity to look at the corpse. Then he intended petitioning the Chief Justiciar to kick a few backsides in the city of London, even if Hubert was out of favour with those belligerent bastards who lived in this swarming hive on the edge of the Thames.
The sheriff began walking to the cart, his two officers reluctantly moving aside to let the coroner’s team through.
Edwin once
Godard, who took his other name from estates his father had owned in one of the Christian kingdoms of Outremer, held up his arm in salute, but looked suspiciously at de Wolfe.
‘I have heard of you, Sir John. What are you doing here?’
His tone was guarded, but not overtly hostile, as his eyes flickered from the coroner to the body on the cart and then to his pair of henchmen standing in front of it.
‘This man was stabbed yesterday within the enclave of the royal palace and then fell into the river. I need to investigate his death and bring the culprit to justice.’
Godard shrugged and virtually repeated what William had said. ‘This is a task for us, sir. We perform your function in this city.’
Bottling up his exasperation with difficulty, John made a further effort to reason with the man. ‘I grant you that this was the situation until recently,’ he grated. ‘But King Richard expressly directed the appointment of a coroner to deal with all relevant deaths within the verge of the royal court, wherever it may be. He ordered the Chief Justiciar to implement his wish and I have been appointed by him to perform that function.’
He deliberately emphasized the names to convey the importance of his office, but Godard seemed unimpressed.
‘Ha, Hubert Walter! He’s well out of favour in London these days, so I’d not be too ready to flaunt your warrant from him.’
De Wolfe sighed heavily. He knew Godard was referring to the harsh way in which a couple of months previously Hubert had quelled the popular revolt against taxation led by William fitz Osbert, known as ‘Longbeard’. The leaders of the rebellion had been cornered in the church of St Mary le Bow, which Hubert had set on fire, driving the rebels out to be dragged to an agonising death at Tyburn. Since then, his unpopularity over the increasing burden of taxes had been worsened by accusations that he had deliberately ordered the violation of sanctuary.
‘He appointed me on the orders of King Richard!’ snapped de Wolfe. ‘Are you challenging royal authority? That smacks of treason, sir!’
An expression of sullen obstinacy came over Godard’s plain face. ‘I’m challenging nothing – but the right to appoint one sheriff for London and another for Middlesex was granted by the first King Henry when he granted the city its charter. If you want to dispute that, then take the matter to the mayor, to whom I am responsible.’
‘I may do just that!’ rasped the coroner, his simmering anger now rising to boiling point. ‘But that will take time, and in this blistering heat that cadaver will start to stink, especially as it has already spent a night in this putrid river!’
The sheriff considered this for a moment, stroking his full belly with one hand as an aid to thought.
‘I’m a reasonable man, Sir John. I accept your point about the likely dissolution of the corpse in this weather,’ he said mildly. ‘Why do we not examine him together, then at least your mind will be assuaged about the cause of death?’
Somewhat reluctantly, de Wolfe grunted an agreement, but did not give in completely. ‘What about getting the fellow back to Westminster? He is in minor orders and deserves a proper funeral before he turns green!’
‘I still wish to hold my own enquiry, as is the city’s right,’ declared Godard pedantically. ‘After that, you can do what you like with him.’
De Wolfe managed to hold his tongue until after he had had the opportunity to look at the corpse. Then he intended petitioning the Chief Justiciar to kick a few backsides in the city of London, even if Hubert was out of favour with those belligerent bastards who lived in this swarming hive on the edge of the Thames.
The sheriff began walking to the cart, his two officers reluctantly moving aside to let the coroner’s team through.
Edwin once
Similar Books
