‘So you are irked with your parents for failing to dote on you,’ sighed Michael heavily. ‘Is that why you killed her?’
Thomas and Ella blinked their astonishment at the accusation, and Bartholomew thought their shock was genuine. Of course, that was not to say they were innocent – only that they considered themselves to be above suspicion.
‘We never did!’ cried Ella, the first to find her tongue. ‘What a terrible thing to say! We were not close, but we never wished her harm. Besides, Anne was a lot of fun, and we would not have enjoyed ourselves nearly as much if our parents had raised us. It all worked out for the best.’
‘So what have you done to find the killer?’ asked Michael archly. ‘Even if you were not fond of Margery, you still must want her murder avenged.’
‘We did discuss hunting the bastard ourselves,’ said Thomas, eyeing the monk with dislike. ‘But Albon told us to let him do it instead. Ella and I do not want to cross the man who will take us to France, so we reluctantly acceded to his request.’
‘You will go to France,’ Michael pointed out. ‘She will stay here, ready to marry another wealthy or powerful suitor.’
Ella regarded him haughtily. ‘No, I will not, because I have decided to follow the Lady’s example and take a vow of chastity – which means no more weddings for me. I am going to France, although not to join the army, naturally. I shall visit religious houses.’
‘Of course you will,’ said Michael flatly. ‘But to return to more important matters, do you have any idea who meant your mother harm?’
‘No,’ replied Thomas sourly. ‘Because she really was loved by all, and I cannot believe this has happened to her. She honestly did not have an enemy in the whole world.’
‘What about Roos?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘He was unpopular in Cambridge, so I cannot imagine his reception was any different here. Did he have enemies in the castle?’
‘Roos!’ spat Thomas. ‘Otherwise known as Philip de Jevan, although we had no idea he was a scholar until Richard the watchman told us just now. We are stunned – we thought he was a merchant from London, which is what he always claimed.’
‘We did not recognise him when he arrived on Wednesday,’ put in Ella. ‘Because we are used to seeing him with white hair and beard.’
‘We believe “Jevan” was your mother’s kinsman,’ said Bartholomew. ‘What was their relationship, exactly?’
‘Distant cousins,’ replied Ella, and looked around quickly to ensure no one could hear before adding, ‘but I think they might have been lovers once. I overheard several discussions between them that suggested it, and he was always trying to corner her alone. He was a dreadful lecher.’
‘She tried to send him packing countless times,’ said Thomas, ‘but her rejections were too gentle, and he never did get the message.’
‘What did your father think of Roos’s behaviour?’ asked Michael.
Thomas gave a mirthless bark of laughter. ‘Him? I doubt he noticed anything amiss, and if he did, he would have been too busy to do anything about it. Running the Lady’s estates is more important to him than anything else in the world.’
‘It was your mother who summoned Roos here,’ said Michael. ‘Why would she do such a thing if all he did was harass her?’
‘She doubtless had her reasons,’ replied Thomas, while Ella looked away and bit her lip. ‘But not ones she confided to us. I wish we could help, but we knew nothing of her business.’
‘Then tell us what you were doing the night she died.’
Thomas sighed with exaggerated patience. ‘I was in the Bell Inn with the squires for the first part of it, and I came back here at midnight. I went directly to Ella’s room, where we played board games until Adam raised the alarm with his screeching.’
‘The Bell is where Roos was staying,’ said Michael. ‘Did you see him there?’
‘Not that I recall,’ shrugged Thomas, ‘but I was looking at the lasses, not old men in nasty hats. I did not know then that your Roos was our Jevan, so why would I have paid him any heed? Have you finished with us? Our mother will be buried tomorrow, and we have to make all the arrangements ourselves, because our father does nothing but sleep.’
‘It is Master Lichet’s medicine,’ explained Ella. ‘It is very strong. We only had a sip and it made our heads spin. Father swallowed the whole cup.’
‘He will wake up when we visit,’ vowed Michael. ‘We have questions for him as well.’
Thomas smiled malevolently. ‘Not today, Brother. And not tomorrow either, if Lichet has any say in the matter. His potions are nothing if not effective.’
‘That pair said nothing to make me think them innocent,’ said Michael, once the twins had gone. ‘They are irredeemably selfish, and think they have been ill-used by having parents with lives of their own. They might well have dispatched Margery out of bitterness and spite.’
‘And Roos for being in the way,’ agreed Bartholomew. ‘But we should request an audience with the Lady now. Lichet cited her as his alibi, so we should see if he is telling the truth – assuming that he has not dosed her with another powerful soporific, of course.’
Lichet was in the Lady’s apartments, reciting an ode of his own composition. It was several pages long, and comprised a lot of convoluted rhymes, which perhaps explained why she had dozed off. Lichet had not noticed and read with gusto. The poem was about a dog that seduced women under cover of darkness, which did not seem an entirely suitable subject for an elderly patron, so perhaps it was just as well she was not awake to hear it.
‘No wonder folk call him the Red Devil,’ murmured Michael. ‘Poor Clare! I would not be happy with such a man assuming a position of power in the University.’
Lichet scowled when a servant interrupted his performance to announce visitors. He started to refuse Bartholomew and Michael permission to enter, but the Lady’s eyes snapped open, and she overrode him by beckoning them forward.
‘Well?’ she demanded. ‘Who killed Margery? I am sure you have been exploring the murders, given that a scholar died as well.’
‘I ordered them to do it,’ put in Lichet quickly. ‘I would have solved the mystery myself, but I decided to apply my superior abilities to being Acting Steward instead. I shall shoulder Marishal’s responsibilities for as long as he is … indisposed.’
‘Drugged senseless, you mean,’ put in Bartholomew disapprovingly. ‘Which is a dangerous thing to do and–’
‘When do you expect him to wake?’ interrupted Michael, aware that such an accusatory discussion was likely to do more harm than good. ‘There are questions that only he can answer.’
‘Not today,’ replied Lichet stiffly. ‘Tomorrow, perhaps. I shall see how he feels.’
‘He will feel inclined to help them, and you will tell him so, Master Lichet,’ said the Lady sharply, and turned back to the scholars. ‘Now tell me what you have learned. Albon gave me his report earlier, but it was disappointingly sparse.’
Michael hastened to oblige, finishing with the fact that Margery had written to invite Roos to a secret meeting in the cistern ‘at the usual time’.
‘My goodness,’ said the Lady flatly. ‘You have been busy.’
‘Now just one moment,’ snapped Lichet, still blinking his astonishment as he raised his hand for clarification. ‘You claim that Roos was on the council?’
‘He called himself Jevan while he was here,’ replied Michael. ‘But yes. Were you not included in the secret? Dear me!’