‘Again?’ asked Bartholomew.
‘Yes, again. In case you had not noticed, your wretched library is still causing considerable discord among our scholars – discord that is intensifying as its opening draws nearer. If only I had a Junior Proctor to help me keep the peace … But never mind this. I have reached some conclusions about the raiders. It is obvious now what is happening.’
‘It is?’
‘They have been sneaking into the town for weeks to reconnoitre. Adam and the others must have seen them, and they were murdered to prevent them from telling the Sheriff that trouble was afoot. And Saturday’s raid was the culmination of all their spying.’
‘But it was unsuccessful,’ said Bartholomew. ‘They were driven off empty-handed.’
‘Quite, which means they will try again – they will not let all their efforts go unrewarded. My grandmother heard a rumour, one she believes, that says they will strike during the Corpus Christi pageant, when all our soldiers and beadles will be busy policing the crowds.’
‘Then cancel it.’
‘We cannot cancel Corpus Christi!’ exclaimed Michael, shocked. ‘It is one of the most important celebrations of the year – religious and secular.’
‘Then call off the launch of the library. That will free the beadles to–’
‘If we do, we will never have a benefaction from a townsman again, because Dunning’s disappointment will know no bounds. We shall just have to be vigilant.’
‘Vigilant for attacks by robbers who have already stormed the castle and killed experienced soldiers, and for mischief by the disaffected half of the University that does not want a Common Library?’ asked Bartholomew archly. ‘That should be easy enough!’
Michael shot him a nasty look. ‘If we solve these murders by the day after tomorrow, perhaps our rebellious scholars will stop saying that repositories for books are dangerous.’
‘I think it is time that we reviewed what we know,’ said Bartholomew. ‘To see if there are clues we have overlooked.’
Michael brightened. ‘Very well. We shall do it in the Brazen George, then, where a small repast might stimulate our minds into some constructive thinking.’
The streets were busy as Bartholomew and Michael walked to the High Street. Soldiers were everywhere, and Bartholomew could only suppose that Tulyet had drafted reinforcements from other towns. People continued their Corpus Christi preparations, but uneasily, much of the pleasure of the occasion stripped away by the fear of invasion.
‘I am going to close on Thursday,’ confided Landlord Lister, as he served them bread and a selection of cold meats. ‘I do not want to attract the attention of mercenaries by selling ale.’
‘They will not come if everyone is expecting them,’ said Bartholomew. ‘The element of surprise is an important factor in raids like these. And they have lost it.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Lister. ‘But the burgesses are taking no chances. Most of the wealthier ones have already left town, taking their families and valuables with them. Your sister and brother-in-law are among them, as a matter of fact, Doctor. They left this morning with their apprentices. Still, if these villains do attack, at least they will not get the taxes. Those are no longer in the castle.’
‘No?’ asked Michael. ‘Are they dispatched to London, then?’
‘There is no need to be sly with me, Brother,’ said Lester, tapping the side of his nose. ‘Everyone knows the University has agreed to hide them for us.’
Michael stared at him. ‘That is untrue. We have done nothing of the kind!’
Lister winked knowingly. ‘Of course not.’
Michael rubbed his eyes when the landlord had gone. ‘This tale is false, but I doubt anyone will believe me. So you had better start analysing clues before I jump on a horse and follow your family to some peaceful village, because I am beginning to feel unpleasantly overwhelmed.’
Bartholomew was not sure how to begin, as they had scant evidence to analyse. He ate some bread, and tried to concentrate, but his mind kept straying back to what Rougham had done.
‘I did not think anyone else had remembered,’ he said unhappily. ‘The others recalled the pitch, brimstone and quicklime, but not the rock oil. How could Rougham have been so weak?’
‘Not everyone possesses your courage, Matt, especially when confronted by sword-wielding criminals. Incidentally, my grandmother knows a great deal about experiments to produce wildfire, but admitted that rock oil did not feature in any of the ones she is aware of.’
‘Lord!’ muttered Bartholomew, appalled. ‘If she intends to make some herself, she will be taking a serious risk. Rock oil needs to be distilled first, which is an extremely hazardous process. Then it must be dissolved in brimstone or resin, which is not easy, either.’
‘I will warn her,’ said Michael. ‘Although I cannot see her looming over a cauldron, preparing wicked substances to be used in battles.’ Bartholomew could, rather easily. ‘She thinks the men who attacked you are from the same band that has been spying …’
‘Probably. I noticed last night that the armour they wore was identical to that of the fellows who chased me along the river last week.’
‘You were a victim of your own predictability,’ chided Michael. ‘Everyone knows that the medici meet of an evening to meddle with lamp fuel, and that you walk home afterwards in the dark. All these villains had to do was wait until you happened by.’
Michael was right, and Bartholomew was disgusted with himself. He did not think he would ever sleep easy again, knowing that he bore at least some of the responsibility for the disaster.
‘Eight deaths,’ said Michael, after a while. ‘Four men in a library garden, Sawtre crushed by a bookcase, Rolee toppled from his library’s steps, Teversham strangled by a book chain, and Coslaye brained with a tome – twice. This cannot be coincidence, so tell me what it means.’
With an effort, Bartholomew dragged his thoughts away from wildfire. ‘Five of these victims supported the Common Library, two opposed it, and Rolee voted against it, but later decided to give it one of his books. It seems unlikely that they all died by the same hand.’
Michael frowned. ‘Northwood, Vale and the Londons were seen loitering in Cholles Lane before entering Newe Inn’s garden; Coslaye and the apprentice thought they heard a bell ringing; and we have reason to believe that they were trying to invent lamp fuel.’
Bartholomew’s stomach lurched as a terrible thought occurred to him. ‘Do you think they were experimenting with wildfire? I liked Northwood, but he did allow his intellect to lead him – he might have overlooked the ethics of the situation for the thrill of solving a mystery. Meanwhile, Vale wanted to be rich, and the secret for such a weapon will be worth a great deal of money …’
‘And the London brothers seemed decent, but were quiet and private and no one knew them very well. It would certainly explain why my grandmother searched their home.’
They were both silent, thinking hard.
‘I am sure Newe Inn’s pond holds a clue,’ said Michael after a while. ‘There is definitely something sinister about it – it is unusually deep for a start.’ He sighed. ‘We shall need our wits about us if we are to crack this case, for I sense a very devious mind behind it.’
‘Ayera,’ said Bartholomew softly. He held up his hand when Michael started to object. ‘I know you had good reasons to dismiss what Gyseburne and Clippesby said about him being involved in the castle raid, but I tackled him about it anyway, and–’
‘You did what?’ Michael was shocked.
‘I asked why he was wearing armour under his tabard,’ said Bartholomew. ‘And why he was limping. He had no convincing explanation for either. Moreover, he was to hand when Langelee was attacked, and he has taken to going out at peculiar hours.’