Susanna GREGORY - A Killer in Winter

‘The fact that Turke and Frith were related by marriage explains the odd reactions of Turke, Philippa and Giles when the Waits performed at Michaelhouse on Christmas Day,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Philippa refused to acknowledge them, and Giles immediately left the room – twice – when they appeared. Meanwhile, Frith jostled Turke – quite deliberately, I think – and made him spill his wine, but although Turke was furious at the insult, he did not make the sort of fuss I would have expected from a wealthy merchant doused in claret by an unrepentant juggler.’

Langelee still did not understand, so Bartholomew elaborated further. ‘Frith had a hold over Turke. Meanwhile, Philippa was a loyal wife, and did not reveal Turke’s nasty secrets even after his death, and Giles was just upset because he thought the Waits’ presence would distress the sister he loves. They all had their own reasons for their individual reactions.’

‘Gosslinge and Abigny were both seen talking to the Waits,’ added Michael. ‘Doubtless they were trying to find out what Frith had in mind. I think Frith intended to kill Turke, but Turke died before he could act.’

‘Meanwhile, Ailred had been using his position as “keeper” of Dympna to make illegal loans,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Among others, he made one to Norbert about a month ago, and another to Harysone last week. Kenyngham noticed the losses, and demanded that Ailred should hand the chest to him. He set a time limit for the money to be replaced.’

‘Next week,’ said Kenyngham in a soft voice. ‘We plan to use a large part of it to rebuild the hovels opposite St John’s Hospital.’

‘Ailred made the loan to Harysone last Wednesday,’ said Michael. ‘I know he did not lend his own money, because by then he had spent it all on supplies for Dunstan; and we know he did not use Dympna, because you had already taken it from him. So, we do not know how he came by two pounds to lend the pardoner.’

‘I can explain that,’ said Kenyngham tiredly. ‘Ailred said he had devised a way of retrieving two nobles, but said he needed six to bring it about.’

‘The loan to Harysone,’ said Michael.

‘I suspected that was the kind of thing he had in mind,’ Kenyngham continued, ‘and I was loath to give him the money. But he was so desperate to make amends for his earlier mistakes that I did not have the heart to refuse him.’

‘You should have done,’ said Michael. ‘I doubt Harysone had any intention of giving Ailred two nobles in interest.’

‘You cannot know that, Brother,’ warned Bartholomew. ‘Harysone was guilty of nothing except borrowing money. He was just a pardoner, who had the misfortune to arrive in Cambridge the same time as Turke and Frith, and who happened to have an interest in fish. He will talk to virtually anyone to sell a book, which explains why he was seen with Frith and Gosslinge, but it meant nothing significant. He was not the criminal you imagined.’

‘Norbert was unable to repay Ailred, because he had already squandered his loan,’ said Michael, electing to explain a different aspect of the tale, since he did not want to acknowledge he had been mistaken about the pardoner. ‘Frith or Ailred – probably Frith – killed him after the several summons they issued failed to bring back the money.’

‘But Frith said Turke killed Norbert,’ said Kenyngham. ‘I heard him myself.’

‘He was lying, Father,’ said Michael patiently. ‘Turke had no reason to stab a student he did not know. Matt thought Turke was looking for the murder weapon when he went skating on the Mill Pool, but he is wrong, too.’

‘I know that,’ admitted Bartholomew. ‘As you said, Turke had no reason to harm Norbert. It must have been Frith who killed him.’

‘Quite,’ said Michael, satisfied. ‘But let me continue with my story. After Frith murdered Norbert, he devised a plan that would see Ailred relieved of the Dympna problem once and for all. It would also allow him to repay Michaelhouse for what he considered shabby treatment.’

‘He planned to burn the College with Kenyngham in it,’ said Bartholomew. ‘That would protect Ailred – who was doubtless unaware his nephew’s plan extended to murder – and would be a neat end to the adventure.’

‘But we thwarted it,’ said Langelee, pleased. ‘The College is still here, and Dympna is in the possession of a man who will use it justly and wisely. I do not want the thing in Michaelhouse, though, Father. When do you propose to remove it?’

‘It has already gone,’ replied Kenyngham. ‘I am shocked by Ailred’s role in this. We worked together for years, until the sheen of gold seduced him. Gold is a curse, not a blessing.’

‘I hope you have not hidden it under any more floorboards,’ said William accusingly, glancing at his leg, newly relieved of its splint.

Kenyngham smiled. ‘I have forgotten the skills I once had with nails and wood, but I did not make a total mess of it. You all looked at the boards, but none of you realised I had created a storage hole below them. I did better than you give me credit for.’

‘So, Frith killed Norbert,’ mused Langelee, still thinking about the deaths that had occurred so close to his college. ‘And Turke just had an accident while messing around on the Mill Pool. What did you decide about Gosslinge?’

‘He choked on a piece of vellum,’ replied Michael. ‘This was marked with Dympna’s name and a sum of money, and was sent to Norbert the night he died. I think what happened was this. Norbert went to the church and told Frith he could not pay him. Meanwhile, Gosslinge had either found the note or overheard the interchange between Norbert and Frith. He was caught watching, and Frith – or it could have been Ailred, I suppose – rammed the vellum down his throat and suffocated him. Then Frith stole Gosslinge’s fine clothes and hid his body among the albs, where it was found by us two days later.’

‘But Frith denies killing anyone,’ said Bartholomew, thinking there were still questions unanswered about the whole affair, such as why Philippa wandered around the town wearing Abigny’s cloak and why Turke carried Gosslinge’s finger and claimed it was St Zeno’s.

Michael waved a dismissive hand. ‘Well, he would, wouldn’t he? But do not cast shadows over our achievements, Matt. I want to bask in our success, and enjoy the fact that we have culprits for Dick Tulyet.’

‘My God!’ exclaimed William suddenly, stooping to retrieve something from the floor near the conclave door. With amusement, Bartholomew saw it was part of the marchpane Madonna Deynman had presented at his first feast as Lord of Misrule. Because the floors had not been cleaned, the piece had remained hidden among the rushes after Michael had flung it from him in disgust when he realised it was made from salt. ‘What is this?’

No one liked to answer. The sculpted head had not fared well from its time in the rushes: it had been trampled and its face was distorted, and the hairs of the tonsure had slipped and were in a lopsided beard. However, Bartholomew thought it was still recognisable as William, and judging from the expressions of mirth on the other Fellows’ faces, so did they.

‘Marchpane,’ replied Langelee nonchalantly, struggling not to laugh. ‘It was one of Deynman’s jests. Do not eat it: it is salty.’

‘I am not in the habit of devouring scraps retrieved from the floor, Master,’ said William indignantly. He turned it over in his hand. ‘It seems familiar, although I do not know why. It is as if it is wearing a disguise, and the face is just beyond the reaches of my memory.’

‘It is a good thing he does not spend much time in front of a mirror,’ whispered Michael gleefully. ‘Or his memory might be more reliable. It still looks like him, even though it is crushed.’