A Killer in Winter (48 page)

‘Probably not,’ said Langelee. ‘Why write invisibly, if the message is meaningful only to the recipient? However, remember
also that codes are only good if the recipient knows what they mean, otherwise there is no point in using them.’

Bartholomew took the parchment, and thought about Langelee’s words: something that would be understood by each recipient.
The fact that these possibly included Norbert, Gosslinge and the Waits meant it had to be something very simple. Suddenly,
the whole thing was crystal clear.

‘Of course!’ he exclaimed. ‘I understand! One, thirteen and four.’

‘I can see that,’ snapped Michael testily. ‘The question is, what does it mean?’

‘There are three numbers here, just as there were three on the note we discovered in Gosslinge. And those numbers represent
pounds, shillings and pence.’

‘Can it really be as basic as that?’ asked Michael, inspecting the parchment with renewed interest. ‘Someone
makes an application, and Dympna responds by sending a
note specifying the amount it is prepared to advance?’

‘Why not?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘There is no reason to believe it is more complex. The Waits have asked for five nobles – one
pound, thirteen shillings and fourpence. Or perhaps they have borrowed money, and this is the sum Dympna would like repaid.’

‘Yes,’ said Michael, nodding excited agreement. ‘The latter. Such a scheme would explain why Norbert received messages from
Dympna with such frequency: he had borrowed money, and Dympna was issuing demands for its repayment, either in full or in
part.’

‘But Norbert had not borrowed money,’ Bartholomew pointed out. ‘Tulyet, Robin and Ailred all said his was not the kind of
case they sponsor.’

‘Then perhaps Dympna’s members have not been acting together,’ suggested Michael. ‘It seems to me that one has been making
loans without the knowledge of the others. We know Robin is not involved in financial decisions. Meanwhile, Kenyngham’s retirement
has made him very absent-minded and Dick Tulyet is busy watching Sheriff Morice destroy everything he has worked to achieve.
Neither of them will be watching Dympna very carefully at the moment.’

‘That leaves Ailred,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Do not forget the chest was in his care until recently, so he was in a position to
raid it without the others being any the wiser.’

‘And then he wrote messages to Norbert demanding it back,’ said Michael nodding. ‘And as long as Norbert was crippled by repayment
obligations, he would remain at Ovyng, where his uncle would pay for his education.’

‘Did Norbert know the principal of his own hostel was a member of Dympna?’ asked Bartholomew. He answered his own question.
‘Of course he did not. Ailred would not have written notes if that were the case – he would just have asked Norbert for the
money.’

‘Ailred was in a perfect position to demand reimbursement from Norbert,’ said Michael thoughtfully. ‘He would
have known exactly where and when to leave messages, and Norbert must have imagined Dympna had eyes everywhere. We know Norbert
had debts – it was one of the first things I learned when I started to investigate his murder. He must have borrowed money
from Dympna in an effort to repay some of them.’

‘But Norbert would have recognised Ailred when they met in St Michael’s,’ said Langelee reasonably. ‘Even if Ailred wore a
disguise, there would be small traits to betray him – his gait or his voice. He must have recruited someone else to help him.’

‘Who?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘I doubt Robin could be trusted with that sort of thing – and certainly not unless he was paid.’

‘Not Robin,’ determined Michael. ‘He would have blurted it out when we spoke to him earlier. And not Kenyngham or Tulyet,
either, because we think Ailred has been acting without their knowledge in this matter. It is someone else. But who?’

‘Someone who lives here,’ said Bartholomew. ‘It cannot be a stranger, like Harysone, because Ailred will not have known him
long enough to establish any kind of trust.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Michael, reluctant to admit that Harysone could be innocent of something. ‘But we have to remember the changes
that have taken place in Dympna recently. Everyone says Norbert would not have been granted a loan, and yet it appears he
had one. Similarly, it looks as if the Waits and Gosslinge also had them – and neither of those are worthy cases.’

‘The Waits,’ said Bartholomew, closing his eyes as something else occurred to him. ‘I
knew
their connections to so many aspects of this case were significant!’

‘The Waits are not Ailred’s accomplices,’ said Michael dismissively. ‘Why should a respectable principal throw in his lot
with a band of jugglers?’

‘Because of Lincoln,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Remember how Frith first introduced himself? Frith of
Lincoln
. It is not
unknown for folk to claim they come from large cities instead of small villages, thinking it increases their credibility,
so Frith may well be a Fiscurtune man.’

Michael was unconvinced. ‘That represents a huge leap in logic,’ he warned.

‘It would explain why Frith’s music leaves so much to be desired,’ said Langelee. ‘He is not a real Wait at all, but joined
them as a disguise, so he can help Ailred avenge Fiscurtune.’

‘Makejoy said the group has been together five years,’ said Bartholomew. ‘But revenge may well be the reason why Frith and
his friends are so far from Chepe, where they were said to be doing so well.’

‘
Were
doing so well,’ said Michael meaningfully. ‘Makejoy
and
the singer we met in the Market Square told us the Waits’ business had taken a downward turn recently. Makejoy also mentioned
that it was Frith who suddenly expressed a desire to see Cambridge.’ He scratched his chin, fingernails rasping on the whiskers.
‘And there is something else. The Market Square singer also said the Waits had friends in “high places”, who recommended them.
Quenhyth told you that his father hired the Chepe Waits because
John Fiscurtune
said he should.’

‘So, Fiscurtune was the Waits’ “friend”,’ said Bartholomew. ‘So if we think Ailred and Frith
may
be related, and we have surmised that Ailred and John Fiscurtune are kinsmen, then we can also assume there is a connection
between Frith and Fiscurtune. Frith’s “friend” – Fiscurtune – was his relative, which explains why a powerful merchant deigned
to recommend a lowly juggler to his colleagues. Fiscurtune was the reason the Waits were doing well in Chepe. When Turke murdered
him, he did more than merely kill a rival fishmonger; he destroyed the basis of the Waits’ success. This is beginning to make
sense. Loss of livelihood would be a powerful motive for murder – except that Turke was not murdered, of course.’

‘Gosslinge and Norbert were, though,’ said Michael. ‘But
unfortunately, we shall have to wait until Ailred is apprehended before we can test our theories. We should certainly speak
to him before we tackle Frith and his cronies, since we have scant evidence to convict them without his testimony. But there
are other matters that require our attention first, and one of them is regarding us very balefully.’

Quenhyth,’ said Langelee heavily, looking over at the student, who had given up trying to overhear their conversation. ‘Damn
the lad! I do not know why he has taken such an unnatural dislike to these Waits.’

‘We have just shown he is right to be wary of them,’ said Michael. ‘Not only have we been told by several different people
that they steal from their patrons, we now suspect they are here for a darker purpose.’

‘I do not want them in my College any longer,’ said Langelee decisively. ‘Deynman’s reign as Lord of Misrule is almost over,
and even he has grown weary of their uninspired performances. I shall ask them to leave immediately – and damn their written
contract.’ He hailed Quenhyth, and asked whether the student knew where the Waits might be.

Quenhyth’s face lit up at the mention of the subject so dear to him. ‘They are in the conclave – which is why I knew it was
safe to look through their things.’

‘The conclave?’ asked Langelee suspiciously. ‘I said they were not allowed in the hall or the conclave unless accompanied
by a member of the College. Why did you not stop them?’

Quenhyth glowered. ‘They are accompanied by a College member: Kenyngham is with them.’

‘What are they doing?’ asked Bartholomew. He was aware of a sensation of unease developing in the pit of his stomach.

‘They asked whether the conclave was empty, and when he said it was, they told him he and they should go there immediately,’
explained Quenhyth.

‘I do not like the sound of this at all,’ said Bartholomew.

* * *

Bartholomew was not the only one uncomfortable with the notion of Kenyngham in company with a rough group of people like the
Chepe Waits; Michael and Langelee were worried, too. Langelee led the way down the slippery lane at a cracking pace, dragging
Quenhyth with him. Quenhyth looked pleased with himself, as though he imagined he had finally proved some point and was going
to avoid a sojourn in the proctors’ cells after all.

‘It was something about prayers,’ he said breathlessly, trying to be helpful. ‘You know how Kenyngham is always praying? Well,
Frith asked if he knew any prayers for musicians, or some such nonsense, and Kenyngham offered to teach him some. He said
he knows one by St Cecilia.’

Michael stopped dead in his tracks, grateful for a respite from running through the sludgy snow. ‘Kenyngham is praying with
the Waits in the conclave? That sounds innocent enough. I thought they were doing something else.’

‘The Waits do not pray!’ said Quenhyth in a sneering voice. ‘They would not know how.’

‘Perhaps that is why they asked Kenyngham to teach them,’ said Michael cautiously. ‘We may be doing Frith an injustice here.’

‘Then they will have no complaint when we burst into the conclave to see what is happening,’ panted Langelee.

‘Actually, I imagine the reason for escorting Kenyngham to the conclave is more closely related to the presence of the chest
of gold under the floorboards than to devotions,’ said Bartholomew quietly, taking Michael’s arm and pulling him on.

‘Chest of gold?’ demanded Langelee. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘It is Kenyngham’s turn to keep Dympna,’ explained Michael. ‘Matt thinks it is under the floorboards in the conclave, which
is why they have been loose for the past three weeks. But there is a flaw in his reasoning: how could the Waits know where
the chest is hidden? Its whereabouts is a closely guarded secret. Even Tulyet does not know where
Kenyngham has put it, and Kenyngham is a man who is stubborn about such things. He would never reveal where Dympna was kept,
especially to a band of entertainers with a reputation for light fingers.’

‘Ailred,’ said Bartholomew heavily, as another piece of the mystery fell into place. ‘Ailred knew where it was. Tulyet said
the keepers tell one other person where they have hidden the chest, in case there is an accident. Kenyngham would not have
told Robin, and we know it was not Tulyet, so he must have informed Ailred. And we believe the Waits are Ailred’s accomplices!’

Michael skidded and almost fell in a particularly slick patch of snow. He slowed down, to try to think clearly. ‘The Waits
have been the common factor all along – just as you said. They associated with Gosslinge, Turke, Giles and Philippa in London;
they were seen with Norbert on the night of his death; and they spoke to Harysone in the King’s Head. It is obvious now we
have the whole picture: Frith was the shadowy “Dympna” who met Norbert in St Michael’s, and who was able to escape without
being seen by Godric and his classmates.’

‘The Waits probably killed Gosslinge, too,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Perhaps he went to repay a loan, and they thrust the note into
his throat when he told them he did not have their money. That may have been why he wore beggarly clothes – to pretend he
was poor.’

‘It is possible,’ said Michael. ‘But we should catch these vagabonds before they make off with the gold and harm Kenyngham
into the bargain.’

‘Hurry, then,’ said Bartholomew, breaking into a run again. He reached Michaelhouse and struggled with the gate, while the
others fidgeted impatiently. As soon as it was open, he tore across the yard, heading for the hall. He almost collided with
William, out in the milder weather for some much-needed exercise.

‘I have been evicted,’ said William peevishly. ‘The Waits insisted on being alone with Kenyngham in the conclave,
while he taught them some prayers. Why do they not want me there? I know as many prayers as he does.’

Bartholomew did not stop to answer, but pushed past the friar and made for the conclave, racing up the stairs and across the
hall. The door was locked, and he kicked at it in frustration.

‘They have him inside,’ he shouted to Langelee, who was behind him.

‘Calm down, Matt,’ said Langelee, pulling him away. ‘If the Waits have locked themselves in, then they have just sealed the
door to their own prison. There is only one way in or out of the conclave, and that is through this door. We have them.’

‘That is not the point!’ said Bartholomew in agitation. ‘Kenyngham is in there. He may be in danger. And they do balancing
acts for a living, so do not imagine they cannot escape through the windows. Send Quenhyth to stand in the courtyard and sound
the alarm if they try to leave that way. And fetch an axe.’

‘An axe?’ asked Langelee in horror. ‘You are not taking an axe to one of my doors!’

‘Kenyngham is alone with men who have killed,’ hissed Bartholomew, grabbing the Master by the front of his gown. ‘We will
smash down the walls, if we have to.’

‘There is no need to resort to that kind of measure,’ said Michael calmly. He studied the door for a moment, took several
steps back, and then powered towards it with his shoulder held like a battering ram. Bartholomew winced, anticipating broken
bones. But just as Michael reached it, the door was opened and Kenyngham peered out, curious to know what had caused the sudden
commotion in the hall. Michael shot past him, and there was a loud crash.