‘I shall be voting against your proposal at the Convocation on Monday,’ said Spaldynge, when the taverner had gone. ‘I am sorry, Brother – I know you are doing what you think is right, but the University must stand firm against these demands, because they are the thin end of the wedge.’
‘Once landlords are free to charge high prices, bakers and brewers will do the same,’ elaborated Kardington. ‘We will be driven away by rising costs – hostels first, and eventually the Colleges.’
‘Most hostels are poor,’ Spaldynge went on bitterly. ‘And my sale of Borden was intended to highlight that fact. But what is the University’s response? To arrange a gathering of Regents, and ask them to give the Senior Proctor permission to raise the rents even higher!’ He looked disgusted.
‘I am sorry you will not have Clare’s support, Brother,’ said Kardington apologetically, ‘but your letter of notification did say we should all vote as our consciences dictate.’
Bartholomew was not deceived by their so-called moral stance. ‘Your conscience tells you to vote against the amendment because Clare no longer owns any houses to lease out. Borden is sold, so you are no longer in a position to benefit from charging higher rates.’
‘That is true,’ said Kardington, rather coldly. ‘However, my decision also happens to coincide with what I believe to be ethical.’
‘Damn!’ murmured Michael, as the Clare men walked away. ‘I thought I phrased that letter in a way that made it clear that voting with one’s conscience meant voting for my proposal.’
‘You did – and it was not subtle.’ Bartholomew was thoughtful. ‘I have said this before, but considering Spaldynge sold a house that did not belong to him, he seems very good friends with the victims of his crime.’
Michael nodded. ‘Suspiciously so. I have a feeling there is something we are not being told about that College. I wonder how well Spaldynge and Kardington knew Lynton.’
Bartholomew was silent as they walked the rest of the way to Peterhouse. An innate sense of survival made him turn sharply when he sensed something behind him, and he managed to avoid the stone that was lobbed at his head. He looked around, but could not see who had thrown it, although he heard running footsteps.
‘Perhaps we should ask Wisbeche if we can borrow one of Lynton’s knightly shields,’ said the monk facetiously. He saw Bartholomew’s unhappy expression. ‘Do not worry about Isnard. He will not stay angry with you for long.’
‘It is not him I am concerned about – it is the people taking up his cause. If I knew where Falmeresham had buried Isnard’s leg, I would excavate it, to prove it was beyond repair.’
Michael regarded him in askance. ‘You would do that, but you will not look at Kenyngham?’
Bartholomew sighed. ‘Actually, I will do neither. Arderne would claim it was someone else’s limb anyway, so there would be no point.’
Peterhouse’s door was answered by Master Wisbeche himself. He did not look pleased to see them, and was reluctant to invite them in. Bartholomew wondered if it was because of Isnard.
‘No,’ said Wisbeche shortly. ‘It is about Lynton. The woman who came to wash him has a habit of making off with body parts for magic charms, so I decided to watch her, to make sure she did not do it to Lynton. While she was cleaning him I noticed a wound in his chest. My colleague Estmed, who fought with the old King in Scotland, said it was made by a crossbow bolt. Ergo, Lynton did not die because he fell from his horse and hurt his head – he was shot.’
‘I know,’ said Michael quietly. He raised his hand when Wisbeche started to object. ‘We were afraid of what might happen if we made the truth public. You can see for yourself how the town and the University are at each other’s throats, and a rumour that a high-ranking scholar was murdered would have led to all manner of mischief. Our students would have rioted.’
‘I would not have rioted,’ said Wisbeche coldly. ‘You could have confided in me. However, not only did you choose to be secretive, but you attempted to conceal the evidence – you plugged the wound with bandages. It is unconscionable, and everyone I have told agrees with me.’
‘My apologies,’ snapped Michael, not sounding at all contrite. ‘But we did what we thought was best. I have a responsibility to the University, you know, as well as to its individuals.’
‘Your actions show you do not trust me,’ Wisbeche went on accusingly.
‘And I am right,’ snarled Michael, temper finally breaking. ‘You cannot be trusted. The words “everyone I have told” suggest you have been gossiping to all and sundry. If you cannot see that flapping tongues are the last thing we need, then I was wise to keep you in the dark.’
Wisbeche stared at him. ‘I was angry with you. I spoke in rancour.’
‘And that gives you the right to bray murder?’ demanded Michael. ‘Now, when we stand on the brink of some major civil unrest?’
Wisbeche swallowed uncomfortably. ‘I suppose my response may have been precipitous.’
Michael struggled to control himself; alienating the Master of a prestigious College would do no one any good. ‘You could say that. But the damage is done, and there is no point in recriminations.’
Wisbeche regarded him coolly. ‘In that case, we shall say no more about your failure to tell me my senior Fellow was murdered – or about the fact that you stuffed Lynton’s wound with rags, although I still think it is a ghoulish thing to have done.’
‘Yes, it was,’ said Michael, looking nowhere in particular. ‘So, we have a truce, then?’
‘We do. And just so you know I have the University’s best interests at heart, I shall vote for your proposal at the Convocation of Regents on Monday. My Fellows will do likewise. I do not want a war with the town, and your measures to raise the rents make sense to me.’
‘Thank you,’ said Michael. ‘How many of you are there?’
‘With commoners and pensioners, we number sixteen. Kardington says he will vote against you, but Clare is only fourteen, so our support puts you two men ahead.’
‘Good,’ said Michael. ‘Of course, you have a vested interest in seeing me win. You will inherit all Lynton’s houses, so my amendment will see you considerably richer.’
Wisbeche was about to argue, but he caught Michael’s eye and settled for a shrug. ‘You are right – higher rents will suit us. However, we have already made the decision not to follow Lynton’s policy of leasing to townsmen. All our houses will be loaned to scholars.’
‘While we are on the subject of Lynton, I would like to ask you a few questions about him.’
‘Why?’ asked Wisbeche suspiciously. ‘So you can see what other University rules he flouted?’
Michael raised his eyebrows. ‘From that response, I assume there is yet more to learn about the man. However, my intention is not to expose his transgressions, but to catch his killer. Will you help me? I know this is uncomfortable, but it is better – for Lynton’s reputation and memory – if the information comes from you. I do not want to ask his colleagues or your servants.’
Wisbeche sighed. ‘I suppose you know by now that there were two Lyntons – the fastidious physician and the secret man. Ask your questions, Brother. I shall answer them if I can.’
‘So far, we have discovered that he was once a knight, he owned property, and he had a lover.’