Bartholomew regarded him sceptically. ‘And what do you gain from all this?’
‘The founder promised to make me a prefect next year, and possibly even a Fellow.’ Uyten’s expression was bitter. ‘Then my family would have to acknowledge that I am no dunce.’
‘Oh, but I am afraid you are.’ Michael stood abruptly, and beckoned to his beadles. ‘He has told us all he knows. Take him away.’
Uyten gaped at him. ‘Take me away? But you cannot cart a dying man around!’
‘You are not dying,’ said Bartholomew. ‘In fact, you are barely hurt at all. It will take more than a bit of rubble to make an end of a brawny lad like you.’
‘You mean you tricked me?’ cried Uyten, as the beadles pulled him to his feet. ‘I am not destined for Hell after all?’
‘I imagine you are – just not yet,’ replied Michael. ‘When I said you were bound for a dark place, I was referring to the proctors’ gaol. Did you misunderstand? How unfortunate.’
‘Nothing I said will stand in a court of law,’ shouted Uyten desperately. ‘My “confession” was obtained by deception. You made me think I was dying, and promised absolution!’
‘I promised nothing,’ said Michael coldly. ‘You were complicit in killing my Junior Proctor, and I could never pardon you for that.’ He looked around him. ‘But Illesy and his Fellows are reckless to have gone out today. What will happen to their College while you are in gaol and all the other students have disappeared to cause mischief?’
‘You cannot let any harm befall Winwick just because Illesy is an incompetent villain!’ cried Uyten, distressed. ‘Let me go, Brother. I will stay here and protect it. Please! Our founder will be broken-hearted if his College is damaged.’
‘You should have thought of that before embarking on this wild plan,’ said Michael, indicating that his beadles were to haul the lad away. Uyten howled and writhed furiously, and they were hard-pressed to subdue him. Michael turned to Bartholomew. ‘We need to find Illesy – fast.’
‘We do, but Uyten is right: his testimony and Jekelyn’s will not convict someone who has made his living by outmanoeuvring the legal system. Unless you want Illesy to walk free, we need a more credible witness to stand against him. Such as one of his accomplices from the Guild.’
‘Do you have anyone particular in mind?’
‘Holm. He will turn King’s evidence to save his own neck.’
‘Why am I not surprised that you should choose him?’ muttered Michael.
The two scholars aimed for the surgeon’s house. It was difficult to keep their hoods up in the gusting wind, and whenever they blew back to reveal their faces, people glared. Bartholomew was grateful for the two beadles at their side, although he wished there were more. It had required three of them to drag a frantically struggling Uyten to the gaol, while another had been needed to inform Meadowman and his patrols of what was afoot.
‘We are going to be lynched,’ he muttered. ‘People are angry about Dick Tulyet.’
‘Not everyone.’ Michael was puffing hard at the rapid pace the physician was setting. ‘Isnard is waving a friendly greeting, and so is Ylaria Verius.’
It was a small ray of hope in an otherwise bleak situation.
‘Illesy,’ said Bartholomew, flinching when the wind ripped a tile from a roof and it smashed on the ground nearby. ‘I suppose we should have guessed.’
‘Yes,’ panted Michael. ‘Founding a new College is expensive, and he will need all the funds he can get. John Winwick and the Guild have been generous, but more will always be required. He blackmailed us for money, and I cannot help but wonder whether he persuaded his friend Potmoor to use his talent for theft – that the proceeds from all these burglaries are in Winwick’s coffers.’
‘Not all, Brother. Verius and Fulbut were responsible for some. And Illesy certainly would not have ordered Fulbut to commit crimes in the town – he wanted him dead or vanished, lest he was caught and decided to talk.’
‘True,’ acknowledged Michael. He sighed bitterly. ‘If we had not gone to Peterborough, none of this would have happened. I could have slowed everything down, thus allowing time for Winwick Hall’s money to be raised legitimately.’
‘You might have tried, but Felbrigge was shot when he attempted to introduce measures to curb its progress, and–’
He stopped when he saw Julitta, serene and beautiful in a pale blue dress and cream cloak. Knowing he would be unable to lie convincingly if she asked where he was going, he attempted to sidle past her, but she grabbed his hand and brought him to a standstill. Michael, wheezing and grateful for the respite, staggered to a halt beside them.
‘You two should not be out today,’ she chided, her lovely face creased with concern. ‘Not with all these silly tales about Sheriff Tulyet. I ordered Weasenham to desist, but it was too late. Go back to Michaelhouse and stay there until the town has something else to gossip about.’
‘Is your husband home?’ asked Michael, to prevent time being lost on a wasted journey.
‘Yes, with Hugo,’ replied Julitta. ‘They are discussing–’
‘Please excuse us,’ said the monk, beginning to trot again. ‘We are in a hurry.’
But he was still winded, so it was easy for Julitta to keep pace. At first he refused to say what was afoot, but she was a determined lady, and soon had the whole sorry story out of him.
‘Will has his failings, but he would never condone poisoning,’ she stated firmly. ‘Or setting churches alight. You are mistaken.’
‘Illesy is the mastermind behind all this trouble,’ said Bartholomew. ‘A man with sinister connections to Potmoor. And your husband spends a lot of time with Potmoor’s son…’
Julitta glared angrily at him. ‘And you think Will’s friendship with Hugo means he is part of this nasty affair? Well, you are wrong. He is not a brave man, no matter what impression he tries to give, and would never have the nerve to throw in his lot with poisoners and arsonists.’
‘Uyten said otherwise,’ rasped Michael, while Bartholomew thought Julitta’s defence was a poor indictment of Holm’s character – that she thought him innocent only because she considered him too cowardly for anything so daring as breaking the law.
‘Uyten is a ruffian,’ said Julitta tightly. ‘How can you believe anything he says? Will would never harm the town or the University.’
‘Yes, he would,’ countered Michael. ‘He hates scholars, because Matt and you…’
‘Are friends,’ finished Julitta. ‘Yes, he does not like the situation, but he is not so low as to wreak revenge by embroiling himself in a plot to murder people. However, I have never liked his association with Hugo, and I rue the day that Lawrence introduced them to each other.’
‘Lawrence did?’
‘He is not only Potmoor’s personal physician, but his confidant and adviser. Potmoor and Illesy do nothing without his blessing.’
‘No,’ said Bartholomew impatiently. ‘Lawrence is not involved.’
Julitta shot him an irritable, exasperated glance. ‘I know this is difficult, Matt, but look at the evidence. Lawrence says he wants to dedicate his evening years to teaching, but it is rumoured that his incompetence killed Queen Isabella–’
‘So what? Even if the tale is true, it does not make him a criminal.’
‘No, but it makes him a liar. And while he pretends to be kindly and amiable to his fellow medici, he steals their best patients behind their backs – just ask Meryfeld and Rougham. He has probably taken yours, too, but you are too busy to notice. Moreover, I have not forgotten that he quarrelled with Hemmysby. Did you ask him about that?’
‘Yes,’ replied Bartholomew. ‘He denied it.’
‘Well, there you are, then! More proof that he is not a truthful man. He is almost certainly Illesy’s helpmeet in whatever is unfolding.’