‘Turke paid us for saying nothing,’ said Ailred bitterly. ‘He bought our silence. All I can claim in my defence is that all my share went straight to Ovyng.’
And the loss of Ailred’s ‘share’ after Turke’s death was another reason why Ovyng was so suddenly plunged into poverty, Bartholomew thought. It was not just the fees the Tulyets paid for Norbert that were gone, but the money Turke provided, too. Meanwhile, all Ovyng’s savings had been spent to help Dunstan.
‘I suppose, when you heard Turke killed your brother as well as your sister, you decided you had remained mute for long enough, and it was time to dispense justice,’ he said.
‘I knew John could be difficult, and I wanted to hear Turke’s side of the story. But Turke would only say the pilgrimage would wipe out all his debts – including the one owed to Isabella – and he would no longer pay to keep details of her death silent. I was angry that he felt he could murder my sister and my brother, and treat me so harshly, yet still expect to become Lord Mayor.’
‘So, you killed him?’
Ailred coughed weakly. ‘I had not intended to. Frith and I saw him hurrying towards the Mill Pool one day and we followed him. He was looking for the knife that killed Norbert – he was quite open about the fact that he had murdered my student – and even offered Frith a shilling if he would risk his own life to hunt for it. We did not plan to kill him, but once he was here, at the Mill Pool, it seemed the right thing to do. I suppose Stanmore’s apprentice told you how Frith and I encouraged Turke to cross the river, and how we delayed taking him home when prompt action would have allowed him to live.’
‘You knew Harold was watching?’
‘I did; Frith did not. Frith dislikes loose ends, and I did not want the boy to come to harm.’
‘Unlike Turke,’ said Bartholomew. ‘You gave him cheap skates and did not even let him tie them correctly.’
‘It was more of a chance than he gave Isabella and John,’ snapped Ailred, anger giving his voice a strength that had not been there before. ‘Do not come any closer, Matthew. The ice is very thin near me. You will fall in and we shall both be swept to our deaths.’
‘I will throw you a rope. Tie it around yourself and we will drag you out.’ Bartholomew uncoiled the twine and hurled it as hard as he could, but it was short by the length of a man. He gathered it in, and began to inch forward again.
‘No!’ said Ailred, agitated. ‘Stay where you are. I do not want your death on my conscience, too.’
‘Why was Turke searching for the knife that killed Norbert?’ asked Bartholomew, thinking that if Ailred talked, he might calm down. The friar’s movements had caused more of the ice to crack, and it was becoming less safe with every passing moment.
‘Because it was evidence against him,’ said Ailred. ‘It was a dagger he had borrowed from his servant, and it would have led you to him as Norbert’s killer.’
‘So, Turke killed Norbert after all,’ said Bartholomew, recalling that he had dismissed the fishmonger as a suspect for the killing because there was no apparent motive for the wealthy merchant to slay the indolent student. ‘I thought it was Frith.’
Ailred’s voice was so soft it was difficult to hear. The physician inched forward a little more, and felt the ice begin to bend. He stopped in alarm.
‘I sent Norbert several notes in Dympna’s name,’ Ailred was saying. ‘I lied about that, too, I am afraid. Frith tried to force Norbert to pay me back, but it was Turke who murdered him. You should have known that; Turke was a natural killer. If you need evidence, look for bloodstains on his sleeve. His wife must have seen them, but perhaps she thought they were left from when he murdered John.’
‘But why did Turke kill Norbert?’ pressed Bartholomew, seeing the friar slip further into the water. He was weakening fast, and the physician saw he did not have much time left.
‘Turke would not give us the details, but I was under the impression that Norbert overheard him making some insalubrious business arrangement and threatened to blackmail him. So, Turke stabbed Norbert, then hit him with a rock. Poor Norbert did not deserve to die in such a manner, even though he was dissolute and selfish. Now do you see why I so badly wanted you to catch Norbert’s killer? The culprit was the one man in the world whom I truly despised.’
‘Frith had no hand in Norbert’s death?’
‘None.’
‘But it was Frith who pushed me and grabbed the salted fish?’
Ailred sighed. ‘I think so. I cannot prove it, but I think my nephew met Turke here, in the middle of the night, and begged him to continue the payments for my hostel. I think he probably witnessed the murder, which is why he denied any knowledge of it to you. He does not want to be charged as an accessory to such a crime.’
‘Did you really think you would get away with it?’ Bartholomew felt the ice stabilise and began to move forward once more. ‘Murdering Turke and Gosslinge?’
‘No one killed Gosslinge. He managed to acquire one of the notes we sent to Norbert. Norbert was careless, so I imagine he threw the message in the street, where Gosslinge picked it up. Gosslinge must have asked Turke to it read it to him, then decided to hide in St Michael’s Church to see what would happen. Those rotten albs are an excellent place to lurk unseen.’
‘How do you know all this? Were you there?’
Ailred nodded feebly. ‘Standing behind a pillar, so Norbert would not see me. But Frith and I discovered Gosslinge’s presence long before Norbert arrived. Gosslinge was a noisy breather and we heard him. Frith demanded the note back. Gosslinge claimed this was not the first time he had watched, and said he had already told Turke about my muddle with Dympna. He maintained it was one of the reasons why Turke had decided not to pay me any more – because he knew something bad about me, just as I knew about the vile death of Isabella.’
‘So, Gosslinge was spying for Turke,’ mused Bartholomew. He recalled Harysone mentioning that Gosslinge had smelled of mould. The pardoner had been right: the servant had spent more than one evening hiding among the decaying robes in order to watch clandestine meetings in St Michael’s.
‘Turke used Gosslinge for underhand acts,’ said Ailred. ‘It was why Gosslinge held such a unique position in his household. Turke did not like the man, but he was useful.’
‘Did Turke relieve him of his thumb?’
Ailred was surprised. ‘I understood he lost it to the King’s justices for stealing. But to go back to the church, Frith demanded the note from Gosslinge. Gosslinge looked him in the eye and ate it. Then he choked. We did our best, and Frith even broke one of the man’s teeth trying to pull the thing from his throat, but it was all to no avail. It was a horrible thing to watch.’ He closed his eyes.
Ailred’s account tallied with Frith’s, and explained why Gosslinge’s mouth was damaged. Gosslinge’s fingernail must have been torn in his death throes. Although bruised lips and broken teeth were usually indications that someone had been deliberately suffocated, in this case they had been the result of clumsy attempts to save him. Bartholomew was inclined to accept that Frith had been telling the truth after all – about this particular incident, at least. No one had killed Gosslinge.
‘What else did Frith tell you?’ Bartholomew could see that Ailred was beginning to lose consciousness, and sensed it would not be long before he relinquished his hold on the ice. And then there would be nothing anyone could do to save him. The friar had to be kept alert. ‘Come on, Father! Speak to me!’
‘Gosslinge was wearing his livery, but Frith said it was a pity to waste good clothes when such items are expensive. He took them, then replaced Gosslinge among the albs in exactly the same way in which we had found him. He hoped you would see what had really happened – that Gosslinge had choked on something he was trying to keep for himself, and that he had been spying. But you misunderstood and misdiagnosed everything.’