Free The Malice of Unnatural Death: by Michael Jecks

hog was at him already, sir, and I had to beat it away, but the man was
down here under the rubbish and I had to clear away a little of it to see him. Then the gatekeeper here came to help me when I raised the hue and cry, and …’
    ‘Enough! God’s pain, but you’d witter here while the city burned about your ears, wouldn’t you, man? No doubt you’re a fine
fellow when it comes to maintaining the peace at night after curfew, but you just leave matters to me when it comes to dead
men, eh?’
    For all his bluster, the coroner was a kindly man. He could see perfectly well that the watchman was petrified at being questioned
by him, and, to be fair, Sir Richard de Welles was not concerned with the fellow anyway. He was much more interested in the
men who should be here as witnesses. He wasn’t holding a formal inquest yet, but he did want to see who the neighbours were
so that tomorrow, when he did hold the full inquest, he would know whom he was dealing with.
    ‘Two murders in as many days, hey? Suppose that’s what you get when you live in a city. Damned unhealthful places, cities. Give me a good vill in the country. Somewhere with dogs and a park to hunt the deer. You can keep your alleys and winding
streets,’ he said conversationally. ‘That other fellow,’ he said, jerking his head up the alley where he had already inspected
the body from the previous morning, ‘he’ll be safe to leave exactly where he is. This one, though, I suppose we ought to pull
him free. Can’t have him lying inthe middle of this rubbish heap, eh? Someone might decide to tidy him up …’ He stopped and took a long, considering view
of the neighbourhood. Then, shaking his head sadly, he confessed, ‘Although I can’t see it meself. No one ever cleans up around
here, do they? Damned mess.’ He glanced back at Will, who had started to relax, feeling the coroner’s attention moving on.
‘Tell me: did you knock up the neighbours?’
    ‘Aye, all four nearest.’
    ‘And are those excellent fellows here now?’ Sir Richard asked, gazing about him amiably.
    ‘Three of them are, your honour.’
    ‘Three, you say? That is good. It is almost very good. What sort of man is the fourth, who failed to come here today?’
    ‘He is a tradesman, sir. He is working. We didn’t think you’d hold an inquest today, because it’ll take a day to gather the
jury … sir …’
    The smile on Sir Richard de Welles’s face grew brittle. ‘He is working, is he? And a fine thing to be doing, too. Is there
any here who knows this man? What is he called? John Currier? Excellent. Excellent. Now, my fine friend Will …’ Sir Richard
placed his hands on his hips and smiled, leaning down to the petrified watchman. ‘Will, I would like you to go to this marvellous
man, right now, if you don’t mind, and when you see him, you
tell that benighted excretion of a minor demon that whether or not I hold the inquest here today, I am working too, and if
he doesn’t want his balls separated from his body and spread over my roasted bread before the full inquest tomorrow morning,
he had best get his arse over here RIGHT NOW!
’
    ‘I’ll bring him,’ Will bleated anxiously, all but trippingover his staff in his hurry to escape that fearful face with the blazing eyes. He stumbled once on the rough cobbles, and
then hared off as fast as his ancient legs would carry him.
    The coroner, satisfied that the man had an appreciation of his need for urgency, turned away from him and studied his audience. All male, their ages ranging from some twelve or thirteen years, the jury ringed him, their faces registering their own displeasure. None was happy to be there, especially when a body had been found so near to them. A corpse meant one thing: punishment. They
all knew that if this man had been murdered, they would all be amerced.
    Sir Richard allowed his eyes to range over the jury, and then he selected two to pull the man from the pile, his eyes going
to the body as