The Grail Murders by Paul Doherty

Abbey.' Santerre looked down the table at us. 'Hopkins was a strange man, an antiquarian and historian. He knew all the legends of Somerset and Devon and could recount the tales of Arthur backwards.'
    'Did he ever talk about the Grail or Excalibur?' Benjamin interrupted, ignoring his uncle's frown of annoyance.
    'Sometimes at the table he would do so, but he spent most of his time either in his chamber or on what he called his travels, visiting the farms or ferreting out new secrets.'
    'About what?' I asked.
    'About Arthur, and the whereabouts of his Grail. His chamber was for ever full of manuscripts.'
    'Where are these now?' Benjamin asked.
    'Destroyed,' Southgate interrupted lazily. 'The mad priest burnt everything before coming up to London.'
    'Continue, Sir John,' snapped Wolsey.
    'Dearest Uncle, one more question?'
    Wolsey nodded angrily.
    'Sir John, was Hopkins friendly with you and your family?'
    'No,' Santerre replied heatedly. 'I have explained that. He kept himself to himself. Oh, he performed his priestly functions, Mass and Confession, but you could see his heart was not in it. They were more duties then priestly celebrations.' Sir John glanced quickly at his wife and daughter. 'He didn't seem to like women. I rarely saw him, nor can my wife or daughter ever remember having a conversation with him, which lasted longer than ten minutes.'
    'This is true,' Rachel added softly, and her dark sloe eyes smiled, making me momentarily forget I was sitting in the presence of a great murderer.
    'Continue!' Henry rapped the table.
    'I now know,' Santerre continued hurriedly, 'that Hopkins often visited my Lord of Buckingham and, when the Duke visited Templecombe, he asked to see me in my private chamber. The Duke was very excited, claiming that Hopkins had told him that the Grail and Arthur's Sword still existed, that he was most desirous of obtaining them, and that Hopkins believed that once he had solved a secret cipher, such precious relics would be in his possession.'
    "This secret cipher,' Benjamin intervened, 'is the riddle heard from Hopkins's dying lips at the Tower and which my Lord Cardinal has just recited?'
    'Yes, yes,' Santerre answered.
    'And where did Hopkins find that?'
    'Apparently in the fly-leaf of a book, an ancient chronicle, in Glastonbury library.'
    'We do not know if that's true,' Mandeville spoke up, 'but it can be verified.'
    'Anyway,' Santerre continued, aware of the King's fingers drumming on the table top. 'I asked my Lord of Buckingham why he needed such relics, to which he replied: "Who knows? Who knows to what heights a man could rise, if he held Arthur's sword and drank from the cup Christ himself used?" '
    'Dear Uncle,' Benjamin said sweetly, 'is that treason? My Lord of Buckingham was like other great men. Indeed, His Grace the King and yourself are avid collectors of relics.'
    'But not traitors,' Mandeville interrupted. 'You see, Master Daunbey, what Buckingham did not know is that two of my men, skilled ferreters out of treason, were members of his retinue.'
    Benjamin smiled. 'You mean Calcraft and Warnham who have since been garrotted?'
    Mandeville lost some of his composure. His grin fell away and he chewed angrily on the quick of his thumb.
    'Yes.' He nodded. 'Yes, Master Daunbey, Calcraft and Warnham who have since been killed, but let that wait. Suffice to say that at Templecombe they approached Sir John Santerre and asked him what Buckingham had said. My Lord of Templecombe was astute and loyal enough to tell the truth.'
    'And then what?' Benjamin asked.
    'We established,' Mandeville continued, 'that Hopkins often carried messages to a certain Master Taplow in London. Taplow, a Lutheran tailor, used his links with certain noblemen to report back to my Lord of Buckingham the doings of the court and what was happening in the city. Master Taplow is now in the Fleet Prison. He has confessed that letters written to him by Buckingham and carried by Hopkins demonstrate how this traitorous