Crowner Royal (Crowner John Mysteries) by Bernard Knight Page B

of defiance.
    ‘You have no powers here, sir. The city of London is an independent commune and has no coroner. Our two sheriffs carry out that function, so there’s no need to trouble you.’
    De Wolfe glowered at the men, for the other one had moved to stand alongside William in an almost threatening manner.
    He knew that the city was a place apart, fiercely jealous of its independence, arrogant by virtue of its huge commercial strength, undoubtedly greater than all other English cities put together. The aldermen, burgesses, guildsmen and merchants were extremely powerful and on occasions might even defy the king himself. John was also well aware that when Hubert Walter had instituted coroners in every county two years earlier, he had to heed a refusal from the city fathers and was forced to exclude them from the edict, allowing the two sheriffs to perform those duties.
    ‘That may well be – for your own corpses from the city!’ he protested harshly. ‘But this is a royal servant who drifted down the river from the king’s palace of Westminster and that falls within my jurisdiction.’
    The stony face of the sheriff’s man stared defiantly at de Wolfe.
    ‘Well, he’s not in Westminster now, is he? His corpse lies here in the city and that’s what matters.’
    The coroner felt like punching the man on his fleshy nose, but managed to restrain his short temper.
    ‘He lies within the Verge, damn you! Twelve miles in any direction from the king’s court!
    The other constable, a tall, burly man, smirked. ‘By Christ’s bones, sir, then you’ve got your work cut out!’ he exclaimed sarcastically. ‘That encompasses the whole of London and halfway into Essex, to say nothing of Middlesex and much of Surrey!’
    ‘Only if the deceased is connected with the court, you damn fool!’ snarled de Wolfe. In truth, he was not at all sure of the exact definition of those who should come within the jurisdiction of the Verge, but he was incensed at being sneered at by fellows who were little more than city watchmen.
    William stood obstinately in front of the body. ‘I know nothing of that, sir. All I know is what the sheriff ordered and that was to keep the body privy until he comes to see it and decides what to do. No doubt it will be sent back up the river to you when he’s finished with it.’
    De Wolfe, never known for his patience or easy temper, was fuming at the man’s smug complacency. But short of starting a fight with the representatives of the city’s aldermen, there was little he could do at the moment.
    ‘And when will that be?’ he demanded fiercely, glowering at the man with his arms akimbo, hands jammed into his waist. ‘I need to speak to this sheriff of yours straight away. And then to the Chief Justiciar, who introduced these laws on behalf of King Richard!’
    The watchman was unimpressed. ‘That’s nothing to do with me, coroner. The sheriff is Godard of Antioch – at least the one that’s dealing with this. The other one is Robert fitz Durand, but he’s away hunting in Northampton.’
    ‘Where can I find this Godard?’ demanded John.
    ‘He must have heard you, sir,’ crowed the other man, raising his eyes to look across the bailey. ‘Here he is now!’
    They all turned and saw a fine white horse enter the castle gate. The rider slid off and threw the reins to an ostler who dashed to meet him. Then he waddled across the open space, a fat man with a long yellow tunic reaching to his calves, slit front and back for sitting a horse. As he approached, John saw that his bulging belly was girdled by a wide belt, bearing a short riding sword. He had virtually no neck, a bulbous head rising straight from his shoulders, bristly blond hair surmounting a round, pugnacious face. John sighed and he heard Gwyn mutter.
    ‘Another awkward bugger, by the looks of it!’
    De Wolfe decided to go on the offensive right away.
    ‘Sheriff, I am Sir John de Wolfe, the king’s Coroner of the Verge! We have