The squires exchanged horrified glances, and while they contemplated the possibility that their cruelty might be repaid in ways they had not imagined, Adam took the opportunity to scuttle away. Their bluster promptly returned when Michael began to ask questions, but the Senior Proctor was used to dealing with arrogant youths, and it did not take him long to put them in their place.
‘Now, where were you when Margery and Roos were killed?’ he demanded, once they were sufficiently subdued.
‘In the Bell Inn,’ replied Nuport sullenly, picking an invisible speck from his multicoloured hose. ‘Celebrating the burial of that rogue Skynere, who went in his grave yesterday.’
‘Skynere was a liar,’ put in a lad named John Mull, who had freckles and spots in equal measure. ‘He went around saying that we killed Roger the mason. But we never did.’
‘We have not killed anyone,’ declared Nuport, then grinned at his friends. ‘Although that will change when we get to France.’
‘Roos was staying at the Bell Inn,’ said Michael, once a hard glare had wiped the smirk from the squire’s heavy face. ‘Did you cross swords with him there, perhaps because he accused Thomas and Ella of having a hand in Talmach’s death?’
‘No, we did not,’ replied Nuport sulkily. ‘We saw his two cronies – they were in the far corner of the room, muttering about avenging themselves on the Lady for stealing “their” College all those years ago. But he was not with them.’
‘Then where was he?’ asked Michael.
‘How should we know? All I can say is that he was not in the Bell.’
‘It was a good night,’ said Mull brightly. ‘We all got very drunk, and I do not remember walking home at all. But I woke up in my own bed, so I suppose I must have done.’
‘I remember walking back,’ scowled Nuport. ‘First, because it was raining. And second, because the whore who accompanied us stole my purse. I will trounce her if I see her again.’
‘If you do,’ said Michael icily, ‘I shall see that you are trounced in return. Leave the townswomen alone. Do you hear?’
He glared until Nuport acknowledged that he did.
Bartholomew and Michael found Adam the baker near the door, where he was begging to be let out, all the while glancing over his shoulder, ready to bolt if the squires reappeared. The guards ignored his pleas, so he was more than happy to take refuge with Michael for a while.
‘I hate Nuport and his cronies,’ he confided tearfully. ‘We were all looking forward to being rid of them, but now Sir William has vowed to catch the killer … well, they might never go.’
‘Could they be the culprits?’ asked Michael.
Adam hesitated, but then shook his head, although with obvious reluctance. ‘Unfortunately not. I work at night, see, to get the bread ready for morning. I saw them stagger into their quarters at midnight, after which none of them stirred. Well, Thomas went off alone, but the others stayed put.’
‘Where did Thomas go?’ asked Bartholomew.
‘I did not notice, because it is the rest who are dangerous, as far as I am concerned. Perhaps he went to visit his sister. They are very close.’
‘How can you be sure the remaining squires stayed put?’ pressed Michael.
‘Because unless I watch them like a hawk, they catch me and push me around, like they did just now. I always know where they are.’
‘And before midnight? Where were you then? And where were they?’
‘I was here in the hall, listening to the Clare Hall men sing – they were rather good, actually. And the squires were out in the town, drinking. I know they came back at midnight, because the hour-candle said so, and it was when Master Marishal ordered everyone to bed.’
‘I am afraid your testimony does not exonerate the squires,’ said Michael, ‘as we do not know exactly when Margery and Roos died.’
‘Well, I can tell you that they were still alive two hours after midnight,’ sniffed Adam, ‘because I saw them. And by then, the bullying bastards were snoring in their beds.’
Michael narrowed his eyes. ‘How can you be so sure of the time?’
‘I heard Heselbech chime the bell for nocturns, which is at two o’clock in the morning at this time of year, as you will know.’ Adam sniggered suddenly. ‘Our chaplain was very drunk and your Master Langelee had to hold him upright.’
‘What were Roos and Margery doing when you spotted them?’ asked Michael.
‘They were not together. I noticed Roos first, strutting along like he owned the place. Then Mistress Marishal appeared a few moments later.’
‘Did it not occur to you that nocturns is an odd time for anyone – other than priests and those keeping them on their feet – to be abroad?’
‘It was odd for Roos certainly, as he was a stranger,’ replied Adam. ‘But it was not odd for Mistress Marishal. She often rose in the night to tend the Lady.’
‘Do you know what Roos was doing here?’
Adam shook his head. ‘But I can tell you that he was in a temper. His fists were clenched and he stamped along like an angry duck.’
‘How did he get in here? I assume the entrances are guarded?’
‘Of course they are, or the townsfolk would invade and create havoc. However, I saw Bonde go to the gatehouse after he had finished minding the squires. You can ask him why he let Roos inside.’
‘We shall,’ promised Michael.
Adam’s hard little face softened. ‘Mistress Marishal was kind to me, and I hope you or Sir William catch whoever killed her. She was an angel.’
‘Did you see anyone else out and about last night?’
‘Just the two Clare Hall men. When they finished singing in the hall, they went to their room in the Oxford Tower, although they never put the lamps out – they kept them burning all night. You might want to find out why.’
Bartholomew winced, hoping Donwich and Pulham would not transpire to be the culprits, as relations between his College and theirs might never recover.
‘So, let us summarise so far,’ said Michael. ‘Roos and Margery were alive at nocturns, but the only squire who could have killed them was Thomas, who had wandered off alone. Besides him and the victims, no one else was about except you, Bonde and our Clare Hall colleagues.’
Adam nodded. ‘But I did not hurt her, and I can prove it. You see, baking is a precise art, timed to the second: if I had jaunted off to commit murder, my bread would have been late and everyone here would have noticed. But it was not – it was exactly on time, as usual.’
Michael acknowledged the alibi with a nod. ‘Now tell me how you came to find the bodies.’
‘We have running water in the kitchens, but it was not flowing this morning, so I went to find out why. It is not unusual – dirt, bits of stone and leaves are always getting stuck in the pipes. The cistern door was wide open, which was odd, so I took a lamp and went down the steps …’
‘And?’
‘And I saw the scholar in the water. It was a shock, I can tell you! I turned and raced back up the steps as fast as my legs would take me, yelling for help. Of course, it was not the bodies that stopped the water from flowing, because the pipes are blocked still, even though Mistress Marishal and Roos are now in the chapel.’
‘Roos was missing a boot,’ said Bartholomew.
Adam snapped his fingers. ‘That would do it. Someone will have to go down there and flush it out, although I hope it will not be me. Anyway, I reached the bailey, yelling as loud as I could, and Master Marishal, Thomas, Ereswell, Quintone and several others came running. Lichet appeared from nowhere, like the demon he is.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Master Marishal ordered me back down the stairs to show him what I had found, and a whole host of folk followed. We pulled Roos from the water, and covered him with a cloak. Father Heselbech had arrived by then, but instead of praying for Roos, he raced off to take the news to his priory. Then Quintone spotted a second body – Mistress Marishal.’