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'Froissart's wife was garrotted,' said Stanmore. 'One of my-men told me.'

The four men were silent, Lucius looking from one to the other in horror at such convoluted evil.

'So Gilbert killed his sister when he found out she was planning to run away with Nicholas; he killed Froissart when he discovered something amiss in Primrose Alley; he killed Froissart's wife to make it appear as if Froissart had fled into sanctuary for her murder; and he killed Nicholas when he mustered the courage to return to Cambridge to look for Janetta,' said Bartholomew.

'Gilbert must also be the killer of the whores,' said Stanmore. 'Because their throats were slashed.'

'Frances was not a whore,' said Bartholomew. 'Her last words that her killer was not a man must mean that it was Janetta. It was not a man in a mask at all, but the mysterious woman she had perhaps seen in and out of her father's house in the night.

Oh, Lord!'

'What?' said Michael. 'What have you thought of?'

'Boniface,' said Bartholomew. The others looked at him uncomprehendingly. 'Frances asked Boniface to meet her in the orchard because she had something to tell him. He waited but she never arrived. I thought she was going to tell him something personal, but she must have been going to tell him about strange happenings at her father's house — the baby crying in the night, birds and bats in his attics, a room always locked where Buckley was captive. I imagine she thought that, as a friar, he might be able to secure the help of the other Franciscans and investigate. Perhaps she knew of her father's involvement with the guilds and considered he had become too deeply caught for his own safety.

Gilbert guessed what she was about to do, followed her disguised as Janetta, and killed her in Michaelhouse.'

'That makes sense,' said Michael. 'Her father's involvement with the coven was probably something that became an increasing worry to her as time went on. Perhaps she reached the end of her tether with her other problem.'

'What problem?' asked Stanmore, interested.

'Nothing that will concern her now, 'answered Michael quickly, catching Bartholomew's eye and wincing at his own near-indiscretion.

'The wounds on Janetta, Frances, Isobel, and Fritha were not the same,' said Bartholomew thoughtfully.

Tsobel's and Fritha's throats were slit; the others' were hacked.'

Stanmore looked at him distastefully. 'It is all much the same,' he said. 'And anyway, they all had bloody circles on their feet. It stands to reason de Belem would not kill his own daughter and whore. I wonder if he knows Gilbert is their killer.'

'He cannot,' said Bartholomew, 'or he would not have asked us to investigate. It was Gilbert as Janetta that warned us away from investigating — once in Primrose Alley and once in the churchyard; it was Gilbert who instructed Hesselwell to leave the head in Michael's room claiming it was the will of the high priest; and it was Gilbert who ordered Hesselwell to prepare the back gate of Michaelhouse with a substance that would burn. He knew we used the gate at night, and planned to set it alight as we emerged. Even if we were not killed or injured, we would have received another warning.

Meanwhile, de Belem discouraged us from looking into the guilds, but encouraged us to look elsewhere. He must believe the murders have nothing to do with his business.'

'But he is the high priest who said there would be another killing,' said Michael. 'He must know!'

Bartholomew was silent, trying to impose reason onto the muddle of facts. 'Well,' he began uncertainly, 'he knew Tulyet would not investigate Frances's death, because he was bound by de Belem's own blackmail note. If he wanted her killer found, he would have to ask others to investigate. He had Hesselwell walking the streets at night. He urged us to investigate, and then, at the meeting of the Guild of the Coming that night, he called on the murderer to strike again, hoping to draw him into the open. He received no note from the killer purporting to be from the Guild of the Holy Trinity.

That was a ruse to encourage us to help him, but to ensure we did not start by looking into the covens.'

'Perhaps he really does believe the killer is from the Guild of the Holy Trinity,' said Michael. If Gilbert had any sense he would encourage that belief to protect himself He shook himself. "I am glad Gilbert and de Belem were lying to each other and misleading each other as they did to others,' he added.

Lucius scratched his head. 'All this makes sense, except for why Gilbert should assume his sister's identity.'

Bartholomew frowned. 'Buckley said de Belem was beginning to lose control of his mercenaries. He needed help. Gilbert could not risk entering Primrose Alley as himself, but he could control the mercenaries as Janetta, the mysterious woman who was the subject of so much speculation among the town's prostitutes.'

'And all so that de Belem could continue to maintain a monopoly over the dyeing business!' said Lucius, shaking his head.

Stanmore pursed his lips. 'That would be a most lucrative position to hold. He would have held sway over a vast region.' He twisted round to look out of the window. 'The sun shines,' he said, 'and we should be away before the day is gone.'

They thanked Lucius for his hospitality and went to where Tulyet was organising a convoy with the cart of prisoners in the middle. De Belem regarded them with a triumphant sneer, while Gilbert huddled in a corner looking frightened. Michael strode over to them.

'We have it reasoned out,' he said. 'We know Gilbert murdered his sister, then Froissart and his wife, and then Nicholas. We know that you hired the friar to steal the book. And we know that the covens were merely a front to hide the size of your business empire from prying eyes, and to ensure these poor people continued to work for you for pitiful wages.'

De Belem shrugged. 'You can think what you like, but you can prove nothing.'

'Taxes!' said Stanmore all of a sudden. 'Part of the reason you have kept the size of your business secret is that you are swindling the King out of his taxes!'

De Belem paled a little, but said nothing. Stanmore rubbed his hands together. 'Old Richard Tulyet has an eye for figures. We will petition the King that we be allowed to assess how much you have cheated him. I am sure he will be willing to let us look. Then the Sheriff will charge you with treason!' — 'Why did you kill your sister, Gilbert?' asked Bartholomew gently, hoping to coax with kindness what they might never learn by force.

'Do not deign to answer,' said de Belem harshly. 'They can prove nothing.'

'We can prove Gilbert killed Froissart,' said Michael.

'And he will hang. Is that what you wish, Gilbert, for you to hang while de Belem goes free?'

'She betrayed me,' said Gilbert in a small voice. De Belem made a lunge for him, but was held by two of Tulyet's men.

'Say nothing, you fool! I can hire lawyers who will make a mockery of their feeble reasonings.'

'Now you have no saffron, you have nothing. Tricks and lies will not work now.'

De Belem tried to struggle to his feet, but was held firmly by the soldiers. Gilbert ignored him and continued.

"I did not mean to kill her. The knife was in my hand.

I was angrier than I have ever been before, and the next thing I knew was that she was lying at my feet. I regret it bitterly. Nicholas seized his opportunity and escaped.'

He gave Bartholomew a weak smile. 'I heard you say to Master de Wetherset that Nicholas's coffin had been desecrated because it was meant to be found. You could not have been more wrong. It was never intended to be found. I tried hard to dissuade the Chancellor from excavating the grave, and moved the marker so that you would dig up another. But all failed, and she was exposed to prying eyes in the end. I did not want her to be reburied where she had been so defiled by that mask,' he said, casting a defiant look at de Belem. "I buried her elsewhere. I will never tell you where because I do not want her disturbed again.'