'That whoever killed her was not a man,' said Bartholomew reluctantly.
De Belem looked bewildered and shook his head slowly, as if trying to clear it. 'What does that mean?' he said. 'What was it? An animal? A devil?'
Bartholomew could think of nothing to say. "The wound on her throat had been inflicted by a knife, of that he was certain, and Frances's killer was unquestionably human.
Was Brother Alban right, and were the murders of the women part of some satanic ritual? 'Do you have any ideas about why Frances may have been killed?' asked Bartholomew. 'Did she have any arguments with anyone recently?'
De Belem shook his head again, helplessly. 'We were not close,' he said, 'although I loved her dearly. Since my wife died, I have immersed myself in my work, and left her to her own devices. But I can think of no one who meant her harm.'
He paused and put his head in his hands. Stanmore reached out and patted his shoulder.
'Will you catch him for me?' de Belem asked suddenly, looking intently at Bartholomew. 'Will you catch the madman who killed my child?'
Bartholomew was startled. '"I hat is the Sheriffs duty,' he said.
De Belem stood abruptly and gazed down at him. '"The Sheriff is doing nothing to investigate the deaths of the other women. I know you are looking into the dead man found in the University chest. Give that up, and find out who murdered my Frances. I will pay you well.'
'I cannot,' said Bartholomew, disconcerted that his commission for the Chancellor seemed to be common knowledge. 'It is not only beyond my authority, it is beyond my capabilities.'
'You must,' said de Belem, seizing Bartholomew's shoulder with such force he winced. 'Or my daughter's death will go unavenged. "The Sheriff will do nothing!'
'But how? It is not my affair!' protested Bartholomew.
'Please!' cried de Belem, grasping Bartholomew harder still. 'You and Brother Michael uncovered those murders last year. You will be my only hope!'
Bartholomew thought about Frances's unborn child, and was sorry that her last days had been tainted by unhappiness. She might have been his wife, had he not disobeyed Stanmore's wishes and chosen his own path.
"I will try,' he said finally. 'But anything I discover I will have to pass to the Sheriff.'
'No!' cried de Belem, virtually flinging Bartholomew away from him in his vehemence. '"Tell the Chancellor, or even the Bishop, if you must. But not the Sheriff! He would merely take your information and do nothing with it.'
Bartholomew made him sit down. '"There is no need to be arguing about whom we should inform when, as yet, we have nothing to tell,' he said soothingly.
De Belem relaxed a little, his hands dangling loosely between his knees.
'Why was Frances out alone?' said Bartholomew. 'She must have known that it is not safe at any time, but especially so with this killer at large.'
De Belem stared at him. 'She was a religious girl. She was probably going to mass.'
Bartholomew tried not to appear sceptical, and wondered if he had made a better job of it than Stanmore, who looked openly incredulous.
De Belem saw their expressions and sighed. 'She is gone,' he said to Stanmore. 'What good will come of questioning her actions now? Since her husband died, she has grown wild. I am too busy a man to be constantly chasing after an errant daughter.'
'Do you know why she might have been in Michael house's grounds?' asked Bartholomew.
De Belem shook his head wearily. 'She must have been meeting someone.'
'Do you know who?' asked Bartholomew. He saw de Belem hesitate, but then seem to make up his mind.
"I do not want this to become common knowledge, but I think Frances had a lover. She did not stay out all night — even I could not countenance that — but she did leave early in the morning on occasions. Perhaps she had fallen for an apprentice somewhere, and joined him for his early morning chores.'
Or perhaps she had fallen in love with a scholar, thought Bartholomew, and met him as soon as the gates were opened to allow the academics out for church.
He thought about the area where she died. There was Michaelhouse, of course, and opposite there was Physwick Hostel. King's Hall was a short distance to the north, while Garret Hostel, Clare College, Gonville Hall, and Trinity Hall were to the south. But Michaelhouse and Physwick Hostel were the closest.
It seemed de Belem could tell them no more, and they waited with him until the Sheriffs deputy arrived.
De Belem agreed to speak to him only reluctantly.
Bartholomew was nervous of leaving de Belem with the Sheriffs man in view of the merchant's evident contempt for the Sheriffs competence, but, as he pondered, de Belem's sister arrived full of concern and sympathy, and Bartholomew knew she would prevent any misunderstandings.
They stopped at Stanmore's business premises next door, before Stanmore left for the Fair and Bartholomew returned to his teaching duties at Michaelhouse.
Stanmore ordered that a fire be built in the solar, for, despite the fact that it was summer, the day seemed chilly. He and Bartholomew sat in front of the flames and sipped some mulled ale.
'Have you heard about witchcraft being on the increase in Cambridge?' Bartholomew asked, partly to change the subject from Frances and partly for information.
Stanmore had a network of informants who kept him up to date with the various happenings in the town.
There have been rumours, yes,' said Stanmore. 'A religion where fornication, drunkenness, and violent acts are regarded as acceptable will have a certain appeal to people frustrated with being urged to practise moderation and told that the injustices of their lives are God's will.' He stared into the fire. * 'What about in Cambridge?' Bartholomew tried to get comfortable on the wooden chair.
"I have heard that lights have been seen moving about All Saints' Church in the depths of the night.
Many superstitious people think that part of the town is haunted. If you had not burned down those houses with the people still in them, the site of that settlement would not be so feared.'
'"The people were dead, Oswald!' said Bartholomew, angry at the misrepresentation of fact. 'And no one wanted the task of taking the bodies to bury them in the plague pit! What would you have done? Left them there to rot and further infect the town?'
'Easy now,' said Stanmore, startled at his outburst. 'I am only telling you what people think, and you did ask.
What is your interest in witchcraft?'
'None, really,' said Bartholomew, still annoyed. 'Old Brother Alban was rattling on about it and he thought it may have had something to do with the deaths of these women.'
Stanmore thought for a moment. 'It is possible, I suppose. I will ask my people to keep their ears open and will contact you if they hear anything.' He stood as Bartholomew rose to leave. 'Be careful, Matt. "The rumours about these covens are unpleasant. In London, some fiend takes children from their cribs at night.' "I am a little too old to be taken from my crib,' said Bartholomew, relenting from his irritation and laughing.
Stanmore laughed too. 'Your sister does not think so.
You must visit her soon, Matt. She is lonely, and would like to see you.'
As Bartholomew walked back towards Michaelhouse, he thought about Frances. Was the father of her child the man who had killed her? And if so, did this mean that he was also the killer of the other women? Had they also been pregnant by him? He shook his head.
That was absurd: the other women had been prostitutes who had probably known how to prevent pregnancy, as far as that was possible. Hilde's sister had not done very well, it seemed. But what had Frances's dying words 'not a man' — meant? Was her death connected with the witchcraft that seemed to be on the increase all over the country? Why did so many people believe the Sheriff was reluctant to investigate? Bartholomew rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Was it possible he was involved in witchcraft too, and already knew the identity of the killer whom he had allowed to escape? Bartholomew ran a hand through his hair in frustration. The killer could be anyone! Hundreds of people had converged upon Cambridge for the Fair: any of them could be responsible.