Read Song of a Dark Angel for Free Online

hang herself? Father Augustine asked the same question of his parishioners and, thankfully, Amelia now lies buried in God's acre.'
    'Yet,' Monck interrupted, 'no one else was at the scaffold. No marks of violence, no hoof prints of another horse or boot marks, were detected.'
    Selditch stirred in his chair. 'That is true. But if it was suicide why should someone ride a horse back to the edge of the village, sitting sidesaddle as if it were poor Amelia?'
    'You think it was the murderer who rode the horse back? ' Corbett asked.
    'Yes, I do.'
    The physician's eyes narrowed and Corbett realized that, despite his bluff manner Giles Selditch was a shrewd man, and one not easily swayed by popular opinion.
    'Who saw the horse return?' Corbett asked.
    'Two villagers. They recognized the baker's horse. The rider was sitting sidesaddle. Of course, it was dark and the villagers stood aside, lowering their eyes because, as I have said, neither the baker nor his wife was popular in the village.'
    'Where was this?' Corbett asked.
    'On the trackway just outside Hunstanton. But, before you ask,' Selditch continued, 'by the time the horse entered the village the mysterious rider had disappeared. That's why we think it's murder.' Selditch smiled at the priest. 'I thank you for your support, Father. If it had not been for you, those ignorant buggers would have desecrated the poor woman's corpse even further.'
    'Don't be so harsh,' the priest said. 'Hunstanton is an isolated place and its people live in each other's pockets. What happens in one house is soon known in another. But they are a close and secretive people. I have been here, oh, almost two years, and I am still not fully accepted.'
    'So, you are not from these parts, Father?'
    'No, no, I am not. I was born and raised in Bishop's Lynn.' The priest smiled sourly. 'His Grace the Bishop of Norwich has sent me here for my sins. Now, I really must retire…'
    Monck got to his feet. He stretched till his muscles cracked and yawned loudly. Father Augustine rose also. Corbett, heavy-eyed, bade both of them good night and went up to his own chamber. Ranulf and Maltote lay on their beds snoring blissfully. Corbett pulled a rug over each of them then went and stood by the window. He stared out into the misty, cold night.
    'Strange murders,' he murmured. 'People with secrets.' He remembered the physician's ink-stained fingers. I must talk to Selditch,' he muttered. 'He seems to know the secrets of these parts.'
    He undressed hurriedly and slipped into his own bed. He pulled the blankets high – despite the merrily spluttering charcoal braziers the room felt cold. Before he drifted into sleep he reflected that it was more than just an investigation into the Pastoureaux that had brought Monck to Hunstanton.

Chapter 3
    Corbett was awakened early by the tolling of the manor bell. This also roused the servants, the signal for the daily life of the manor to begin again. Corbett rose and threw a blanket around his shoulders as a servant knocked on the door and brought in large, steaming earthenware jars of hot water to fill the basins and laid out fresh napkins and towels. Once he'd left, Corbett shouted at Maltote and Ranulf to rouse themselves and hastily shaved and washed. Then he broke the seals of his chancery bag and set out his writing instruments on the table. His two companions were hard to wake, so Corbett pulled aside the shutters of the window and opened the small casement. The cold morning air seeped in. Ranulf and Maltote staggered out of bed cursing and muttering. Corbett, however, ignored them and stared through the window. The mist still lingered.
    Corbett felt more comfortable and relaxed than the night before. He finished dressing; he made sure he wore long, thick, woollen hose and a brown, serge gown over his shirt tied at the neck and cuffs. He pulled on Spanish leather riding boots, took his military coat and a quilted pair of gloves. He recalled the mysteries of the night before