Michael raised his eyebrows. ‘And how can you do that?’
‘Because I have a message written by her,’ said Quenhyth smugly. He produced a piece of parchment with a flourish. ‘I decided to take it, because Frith would have rid himself of it by the time I had alerted you. The message was in plain view, between two floorboards.’
Michael snatched the note from him, read it quickly, then handed it to Bartholomew. It contained nothing other than the name Dympna and a series of numbers, just like the ones they had seen on the parchment in Gosslinge’s throat. These were one, thirteen and four, and the ink was pale enough to be all but invisible. The message still made no sense to the physician, although Quenhyth was right in that it indicated an association between the Waits and the benevolent moneylenders. Or perhaps they had gained possession of one of the messages sent to Norbert.
‘Being between the floorboards is not in plain view,’ said Bartholomew, passing it to Langelee.
‘It was in plain view to anyone conducting a thorough and meticulous search,’ said Quenhyth pedantically. ‘Well, what do you think? It is damning evidence, is it not?’
Michael took Bartholomew’s arm and pulled him away, so they could speak without being overheard by Quenhyth. Langelee followed, raising an imperious finger at the student to tell him to stay where he was.
‘It is possible that the Waits applied for a loan from Dympna, and this message is Dympna’s response,’ said Michael. ‘It is obviously in some kind of code.’
‘The one we found inside Gosslinge was written with onion ink or some such thing,’ said Bartholomew. ‘It only became visible when warmed. I wonder why this is not the same.’
‘I was once fooled by that, too,’ said Langelee, who knew a lot about codes and secret messages from his days as a spy for the Archbishop of York. ‘I believed a message had been written invisibly, but it transpired some cheap inks just fade with extremes of temperature – as this has started to do. The recent weather has been very cold.’
‘So Gosslinge’s note was not written in secret ink?’ asked Michael, shooting Bartholomew a look that indicated he felt the physician had misled him.
‘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.’