Susanna GREGORY - Death of a Scholar

‘It is certainly the biggest crisis in mine,’ gulped Thelnetham. ‘I left a pledge in the Stanton Hutch – a bestiary with a gold-leaf cover. My Prior General lent it to me, and I was going to redeem it this week, because he wants it back. What shall I say to him? He will skin me alive!’

‘You borrowed the money to buy yourself a pair of red shoes,’ said William with gleeful spite. ‘So it serves you right.’

‘What shall we do?’ asked Suttone, his shocked voice cutting through Thelnetham’s waspish retort. ‘How will we buy food, fuel and teaching supplies? Or pay the servants?’

‘Easily,’ replied Hemmysby. ‘We shall forfeit our stipends.’

Bartholomew was appalled. He had no other income, given that most of his patients could not afford to pay him, and while he was not concerned for himself, it would mean an end to free medicine for a sizeable proportion of the town’s poor. He had thought his troubles on this front were over when he had been left some money by his brother-in-law, but it had been needed to repair the wall roof after a violent storm, leaving him as impecunious as over.

‘That is very kind,’ said Langelee wretchedly. ‘But our stipends have gone, too. We have five marks due in tithes from our church in Cheadle, along with fees from those students who have not yet arrived. And that is all. We shall have nothing more until Christmas. Nothing!’

There was a dismayed silence.

‘Then I had better see about catching the thief,’ said Michael eventually.

‘How?’ asked Langelee in despair. ‘Nearly every College and decent home in Cambridge has been burgled over the last two weeks, and you have told me countless times that the thief leaves no clues. This is just one in a long chain of crimes.’

‘Potmoor,’ said Thelnetham, shooting Bartholomew a disagreeable glance. ‘We all know he is the culprit. You must arrest him at once, Michael.’

‘I have arrested him,’ said the monk crossly. ‘But with no actual proof that he is guilty, I was forced to let him go again.’

‘But Potmoor is a wealthy man,’ said Bartholomew doubtfully. ‘I do not see him demeaning himself by clambering through windows in the dead of night.’

‘Well, he does,’ retorted Michael. ‘He is always braying that he likes to hone the expertise he acquired as a novice felon. It is a point of honour to him that he can still burgle a house with all the skill of Lucifer. And if you do not believe me, ask him. He will not deny it.’

‘It is true, Matt,’ said Hemmysby. ‘He claims he would never ask his henchmen to do anything he cannot manage himself, and he is reputed to be one of the most able housebreakers the shire has ever seen.’

‘And his henchmen are nearly as talented,’ added Langelee glumly. ‘Even if he is innocent, the chances are that one of them is responsible – with or without his blessing.’

Michael took a deep breath. ‘So let us see what we know about the crime he committed against us. Who was down here last?’

‘Me,’ replied Langelee. ‘I collected the fees from Bartholomew’s new medics after supper last night, and I came to put them in what I thought was a safe place. The hutch was here, whole and intact. And before you ask, yes I was careful to lock up again afterwards.’

‘He was,’ interjected Cynric. ‘I came down here with him, to hold the lamp.’

‘Did anyone see or hear anything unusual after that time?’ asked Michael.

Everyone shook their heads, and Langelee closed his eyes in despair. ‘So it is no different from all the other burglaries – executed with a ruthlessly brilliant efficiency that shows the perpetrator to be a felon of some distinction.’

‘Potmoor,’ put in Thelnetham a second time. ‘And we all know it.’

‘We shall have to keep this quiet,’ said Suttone worriedly. ‘If our students think we cannot supply what they have paid for, they will demand a refund so they can go elsewhere. When we fail to oblige, we will lose our charter. This must stay between us.’

‘How?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘One of them might have seen something that will help us identify the culprit, but to find out, we shall have to ask questions. We cannot do that without revealing what has happened.’

‘True,’ agreed Michael. ‘So I suggest a compromise: we admit that the hutch has gone, but the loss of all the College’s money and deeds will remain our secret.’

‘How long can we last without funds?’ asked Hemmysby. ‘I know we have enough fuel for a few weeks, because I bought some in August, but what about food? If we have any more nuts, we should sell them. They will fetch a good price at the market, and they are a silly extravagance anyway – I cannot abide the things.’

‘We had the last of them today,’ replied William, who was a regular visitor to the kitchen and its stores. ‘But we have peas and beans for a month. The hens will stop laying soon, so I suggest we eat them and–’

‘ No! ’ said Clippesby fiercely. He had one of the birds in his arms, and he hugged her protectively. ‘There is nothing wrong with living on vegetables and grain for a while.’

‘I am not giving up meat,’ stated Michael. ‘I would rather go naked.’

‘Let us hope it does not come to that,’ said Thelnetham, shuddering at the prospect. ‘However, I can dine in the Gilbertine Priory, so I am not concerned about food. What does worry me is the loss of the deeds that prove we own our churches and manors.’

‘I shall forge replacements,’ determined Michael, ignoring the blatant selfishness of Thelnetham’s remark. ‘And we will just have to brazen it out if anyone challenges them.’

‘Fair enough,’ said William. ‘No one will question our probity.’

‘Someone might question yours,’ muttered Thelnetham, eyeing the grimy Franciscan in distaste. ‘Then we shall all be exposed as liars.’

‘You have not seen the high quality of Michael’s forgeries,’ said Hemmysby with a smile, speaking before William could respond. ‘They will convince even the most distrustful of sceptics.’

‘I blame Winwick Hall, personally,’ said William. ‘The town hates the idea of another College, while our fellow scholars are suspicious of a place that has been founded with such unseemly haste. Someone has burgled us in revenge.’

‘That makes no sense,’ said Thelnetham impatiently. ‘Why pick on us?’

‘Because the Senior Proctor lives here,’ explained William. ‘And he runs the University. They think he brought Winwick into being, even though we know he is innocent.’

‘It is possible,’ sighed Hemmysby soberly. ‘Winwick Hall has caused a lot of resentment. Perhaps someone has decided to punish us for Michael’s role in bringing it into being.’

Thoroughly rattled, Langelee organised a more systematic search of the College and its grounds to ensure that a student had not hidden the chest as a prank, leaving Michael to question the other two hutch managers. The monk spoke to Thelnetham and William in the cellar, while Bartholomew prowled with a lamp, looking for clues and listening with half an ear to the discussion.

‘When did you last see the Stanton Hutch?’ Michael asked them.

‘In July,’ replied William promptly. ‘We have had no requests for loans since then, so there has been no need to look at it.’

‘I saw it last week.’ Thelnetham regarded William coolly. ‘ I take my responsibilities seriously, even if you do not. I check regularly to ensure it is safe.’

‘I did not think it was necessary,’ countered William. ‘We never had trouble with thieves before you arrived. Yet you must get the money from somewhere to pay for your fripperies…’