Bartholomew shook his head. So he had been wrong, and Philippa and Abigny were innocent after all. If Philippa were acting as Michael described, then she could not know that he was being kept prisoner in Stephen's dungeon. But it would not matter soon anyway if Swynford's plans came to fruition. Bartholomew's greatest regret would be that he would never have the opportunity to tell Philippa he was sorry, and she might hate him for it.
Michael kindled another piece of wood, coughing as it released a choking grey smoke. 'As I said before, I have been sifting through reports the Bishop has received during the last year in an attempt to understand this, and I believe I now know the truth.'
'Then how did you come to be taken by Swynford?' asked Bartholomew.
"I was rash,' said Michael. "I reported my findings to the Bishop, and he told me to return to Michaelhouse and do nothing. But there were gaps in my knowledge, and I could not resist trying to fill them in. I undertook to question Burwell, and then Stayne. They obviously grew suspicious, and I received a message from Stanmore asking me to visit him. I went, and found not Stanmore, but his younger brother. I brazened it out, asking guileless questions and pretending to be convinced of the reality of the Oxford plot, but it was all to no avail. Colet and Swynford appeared out of nowhere, and I was hauled down here.'
'A note,' said Bartholomew, bitterly. 'How many times have Colet and Swynford used that device? They sent such a note to Sir John, enticing him to the meeting at which he was killed; they sent one to me saying I was needed by a patient, after which I was attacked; and they sent one to Oswald and me purporting to be from Edith, intending to get us out of the way so Swynford could have his meeting here.'
'It seems we are in a fix, Matt,' said Michael, his flabby face serious. 'Will they kill us?'
'They will try,' Bartholomew replied.
Michael gave him a weak smile. 'It will do them no good. The Bishop knows everything I do, except your role in all this, and Abigny's innocence, of which I have only recently learned.'
'What of rescue?' asked Bartholomew hopefully.
'Did you tell anyone where you were going?'
Michael smiled ruefully. 'The note purporting to be from Oswald asked me to keep our meeting a secret.'
'But what of the Bishop? Will he not grow suspicious of your disappearance?'
'Undoubtedly. But unless one of the hostel cabal reveals where we are, he is unlikely to stumble on us by accident.'
Bartholomew thought about the cunningly concealed entrance in the stable and concurred. Stanmore and Richard knew about the chambers, but they would never imagine that Stephen had used them to imprison him. They might not visit the underground storerooms for years to come.
'What about you?' asked Michael. 'Will Cynric wonder about your sudden disappearance?' "I think I would have been rescued by now if he had,' said Bartholomew. 'And he probably thinks I have gone to Peterborough, as you did. Even if he is suspicious, he will blame Oswald, not Stephen.'
They were silent for a while, each wrapped in his own thoughts. Michael's piece of wood crackled and the flame went out.
"I thoughtyou were involved in all this,' said Michael distantly, kindling another piece of wood. 'You talked to Aelfrith in the orchard, but would not tell me what you had discussed. You spent ages with Augustus after he died, and I thoughtyou were looking for the seal. Wilson singled you out to talk to on his deathbed. You had no alibi for when Augustus and Paul were murdered. And howwas I to know that you had not hurled yourself down the stairs that night to confound us? You also searched my room, and I found you reading my note to the Bishop.'
'The Bishop!' said Bartholomew. So that was to whom Michael was writing. He reached forward to grab Michael's arm. "I did not search your room. The note just fell on the floor when I opened the door to look for you.'
'Well,' said Michael, 'there were occasions when I was convinced you were the killer, while other times I was uncertain. I took a terrible risk for you when I agreed not to tell anyone you had read my note. I suppose I could not bring myself to think that you would harm Augustus and Paul, and I also believe you are a good physician and would not make mistakes about the quantity of whatever foul potion was used to drug the commoners. But even more, I know how close a friend Sir John was to you, and could not suppose that you would ever have done anything to harm him.'
'When I read the note I thought you might be the murderer,' said Bartholomew.
"Me?' said Michael aghast. 'On what grounds? I have never done anything the least bit suspicious!'
'You were one of the first to arrive when the initial attempt was made on Augustus's life. Aelfrith, who was poisoned, died in your room. And you acted most strangely over Augustus's corpse. You refused even to look at it'
'Ah, yes,' said Michael, struggling to light another piece of wood. 'Augustus.' He shook his head sadly.
Bartholomew waited for him to continue.
'He was murdered, you know, for Sir John's seal.
You know about the seal?' Bartholomew nodded, and Michael continued. 'Before he died, Augustus claimed that devils were in his room. Remember? Well, before all that happened, he had told me that someone would try to kill him. He kept me up a long time that night with his rantings. I thought I had calmed him down, and went off to the kitchen for something to eat. Within a few minutes, he started screaming again. I ran to his room where you and I broke the door down together. It was full of smoke, and he was insane with fear. I realised that I was not the only person to have worked out that Augustus's room was the only place Sir John could have hidden the seal before he died. You arrived just after me.'
Bartholomew remembered well. He had wondered at the time how Michael had managed to reach Augustus's room before him. That he had been raiding the kitchen made perfect sense.
'You offered to stay with Augustus for the rest of the night, and so I knew he would be safe if anyone really had been trying to kill him in order to search for the seal. I kept a close eye on him for the next couple of days, and went to check on him before Wilson's installation dinner.
I was absolutely horrified when I heard he had been killed during the feast, especially after one attempt on the poor man had already been made. Anyway, I had never seen a murdered man before, and I am afraid it unnerved me more than I would have thought. I was afraid to look into his face, because I have heard that a picture of the murderer is always burned into the victim's eyes. I have also heard that a victim's body bleeds in the presence of his murderer, and I felt that Augustus might bleed for me because I was unable to save him when I knew his life was in danger.'
He stopped, and looked at Bartholomew with a weak smile. 'All silly nonsense, of course, and I would not usually stoop to such superstition. But the whole of that day was unreal — Wilson's endless ceremonies, all that wine, town people in the College, the riot, the Oliver brothers trying to lock you out, and then Augustus dead. It was all too much. I was deeply shocked, because I had seen him alive such a short time before. Does this explain my behaviour to you?'
Bartholomew shrugged. "I suppose so, but you do not usually panic so easily.'
'Well, there was one other thing too,' he said. 'The Bishop spoke to me that day, and said that he wanted me to act as his agent in Michaelhouse. He told me about the deaths of Fellows in other Colleges, and said that Aelfrith was already acting as his spy. He said he wanted me to act totally independendy of Aelfrith, so that if one line of communication were to fail, the other would remain intact. He gave me until the following day to decide whether I would take on the task. When Augustus died, I realised exactly what he was asking me to embroil myself in, and, frankly, it terrified me. But the next day, I spoke to the Bishop, and told him I would do it — for the College and for the University.'