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the discussion we’d had concerning the remains of Saint Edmund just prior to the drama in the King’s bedchamber.
    Samson’s lips tightened. ‘It is precisely because you take such a perverse view of these matters, Walter, that I want you on the case. That and your medical training which I am sure will be decisive. I am confident your approach will get to the truth unswayed by – how shall we say? - religious hysteria. And your reputation as a neutral in these matters…’ here he put up his hand to forestall my protest ‘…will help dispel any accusation of bias on the part of the abbey which must be seen to be impartial. If we lean too far one way we will seem to be favouring the King; too far the other way and the King will feel aggrieved and step in. Neither would be a good outcome from our point of view.’
    ‘I see.’
    He nodded. ‘I’m glad you do. Now, as our resident expert on the subject of boy martyrs Jocelin’s input will prove to be invaluable to you. Here’s his work on Saint Robert.’ He shuffled together the papers on his desk and held them out for me to take. ‘You have my full authority to examine all the evidence, call as many witnesses as you think fit, come and go as you please.’
    ‘Oh, but what of Earl Marshal’s restrictions on movement?’ I said hopefully.
    Samson waved an impatient hand. ‘The Earl isn’t here. And besides,’ he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, ‘no-one believes all that nonsense about the King’s hay fever. This murder must take precedence now. You have my permission to forgo all other duties, including your office devotions where necessary, until this matter is resolved. Be thorough, be fair and above all be objective. Let no-one sway or influence you to any precipitate conclusion. Then come back and tell me that this miller’s brat has nothing whatever in common with the blessed Robert but is merely a stupid child who managed to get himself killed. Dominus vobiscum .’
    *
    ‘He doesn’t like the Jews much, does he?’ I said to Jocelin as we strolled back to his office. As Guest-master Jocelin had his own room in the Court of Hospice, not confined to a common cell like the rest of us choir monks.
    Jocelin grimaced. ‘Th-they opposed his election. He also blames them for b-bringing the abbey into debt.’
    ‘Oh, but that was financial mismanagement on the part of Abbot Hugh, surely?’
    ‘But Hugh was old and easily manipulated,’ countered Jocelin. ‘The J-jews took advantage. There’s no doubt.’
    We walked in silence for a minute.
    ‘You admire Abbot Samson, don’t you?’ I said at length.
    ‘I think he has done many good works.’
    ‘Including expelling all the Jews from the town?’
    ‘Th-that was as much for their own protection as anything else.’ He smiled. ‘Don’t judge him too harshly. One of the reasons he chose you to investigate this matter is the fact that you have a Jewish b-brother and so will be sympathetic.’
    ‘So he does know about Joseph? I wasn’t sure.’
    ‘Of course. Abbot Samson has the welfare of all his flock c-constantly in his mind. How can he d-do that if he does not know all that there is to know about each and every one of us?’ He stopped by a panelled door set in an arched alcove. ‘Here we are.’ He took out what was the largest iron key I had ever seen from somewhere under his robe and began laboriously unlocking it. I could see now why no-one had ever seen his famous chronicle and possibly why Samson placed so much faith in him. Security was evidently one of Jocelin’s valued qualities. He pushed the heavy door open for me to enter ahead of him.
    The room was small and made all the smaller by shelves lining every wall upon which were stacked piles of papers and books of every size and description spilling over onto every available surface. As well as many religious tracts I could see w orks by Virgil, Horace and Ovid among others that I could not recognise. This was a scholar’s room