‘Do not take it to heart,’ said Edith kindly. ‘He was meddlesome, and you are not the only one to have told him so over the years. He had opinions about everything – although that is true of most scholars, to be frank.’
‘It is,’ agreed Chaumbre ruefully. ‘I was invited to a feast in Clare Hall last night, where I learned that Donwich has some very opinionated friends. I was glad to leave.’
‘You were there all night?’ fished Bartholomew.
‘I slipped out just before compline, to check on a batch of fermenting dye.’
‘Did anyone see you?’
Chaumbre laughed. ‘Of course not! I do not keep my people working that late – it would be most unreasonable. I wanted to go home to Edith afterwards, but felt duty-bound to return to the feast, where I stayed until Donwich announced the news about Aynton. I told Edith about it the moment I arrived back.’
‘He did,’ said Edith, and because she knew her brother well enough to understand why the questions had been put, added pointedly, ‘which he would not have done if he had been the one to push Aynton to his death.’
Chaumbre blinked, then gave a great guffaw of laughter. ‘You think I killed Aynton over our spat? What foolery! I am a happy man, Matthew, and happy men do not kill.’
Bartholomew sincerely hoped he was right.
Clare Hall was oddly quiet when Bartholomew arrived, and he recalled that Donwich had sent all the students home early, confident that he would win the election and change the statute that forbade anyone to leave before the end of term. A porter led him to the conclave, where all the Fellows – other than Donwich and his two henchmen – had gathered.
‘We are mortified by Donwich’s challenge,’ said Pulham the moment he saw Bartholomew, while his colleagues nodded vigorous agreement. ‘It reflects badly on the whole College. Will Michael believe that we had nothing to do with it?’
‘I imagine so,’ replied Bartholomew. ‘He is not stupid.’
‘Unlike Donwich,’ said Pulham bitterly. ‘I barely recognise him these days. Did you know that he has threatened to expel any Clare Hall man who contributes funds for mending or rebuilding the Great Bridge? That sort of stance will cause all manner of strife with the townsfolk.’
‘It will,’ acknowledged Bartholomew. ‘So perhaps you should elect a different Master.’
‘If only it were that easy,’ sighed Pulham.
‘Michael sent me to ask more questions about him. Shall we start with Donwich’s premature victory feast?’
‘None of us were invited,’ said a canon lawyer named Peter March, another smugly confident man who was better at politics than scholarship. ‘Only Gille and Elsham. However, no Fellow likes his College invaded by a lot of outsiders, so we monitored the event very closely. What does Michael want to know?’
‘Was Aynton also excluded?’
‘No, Donwich wanted him there,’ replied March. ‘His presence would have implied that he considered Donwich the best man to take his place.’
‘But Aynton would not have resigned if he thought anyone other than Michael would succeed him,’ put in Pulham. ‘He told us that the University is about to enter a new and important stage in its development, and he wanted Michael to oversee it.’
‘Michael would have preferred Aynton to remain Chancellor, while he himself worked quietly behind the scenes,’ said Bartholomew. ‘As he has always done.’
Pulham nodded. ‘We know, but Aynton was aware of his own limitations, and he was terrified of making mistakes that might cause damage. He was a good man.’
‘Was Donwich angry when Aynton refused to endorse him?’
The Fellows exchanged the kind of glances that suggested Donwich had been livid.
‘Not enough to push him over a bridge though,’ put in March. ‘He is not a killer.’
Bartholomew would make up his own mind about that. ‘If you monitored the feast, can you confirm that Donwich was there all night, so has an alibi for the murder?’
This time, the looks that flashed between the Fellows were more uncomfortable.
‘He slipped out for an hour,’ admitted March reluctantly. ‘And before you ask, it was during compline, when we understand Aynton died. However, Donwich did not kill him.’
‘Do you know where he went?’
‘Bridge Street.’ March grimaced. ‘He has taken a liking to Lucy Brampton, and often visits her there. I thought he would stay here that night, to fawn over his guests, but …’
‘His hypocrisy is embarrassing,’ said Pulham harshly. ‘He tells scholars not to pay for the bridge, but where would he be without it? Lucy lives on the other side!’
‘What about Gille and Elsham? Did they leave the feast, too?’
‘Yes, about an hour before compline,’ replied March. ‘They reappeared shortly before you arrived with Aynton’s body, and we have since learned that they watched him being hoisted off the ponticulus. When it was done, they hurried back here to report to Donwich.’
‘But they did not bother to share the news with us as well,’ sniffed Pulham. ‘We only learned what had happened when you arrived with the bier.’
‘Do you know what they did when they were out?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘Other than watching Aynton being retrieved?’
‘Not escort Donwich to his mistress, certainly,’ replied March. ‘He went there alone.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because Donwich was sweaty and agitated when they went over to him,’ replied Pulham, ‘and I heard Gille ask him what was wrong. He would not have had to do that if they had been together, would he? But we have no idea what Gille and Elsham did while they were out. You will have to ask them.’
‘So what did make Donwich “sweaty and agitated”?’ asked Bartholomew.
Pulham shrugged. ‘He spun some tale about seeing robbers and running for his life. It may be true – the town is dangerous for a lone scholar at night.’
Bartholomew was gratified to learn that his prime suspect for Aynton’s murder not only had no alibi, but had returned from his nocturnal foray all of a fluster – as anyone might be after pushing a colleague to his death.
‘None of the rest of us left the College,’ said Pulham, anticipating Bartholomew’s next question. ‘We were too busy monitoring Donwich’s guests.’
‘Except me,’ put in March. ‘I was in the chapel with our two chaplains, praying for Donwich to revert to the man he was before we elected him Master.’
‘So everyone has an alibi,’ finished Pulham. ‘Other than Donwich, Gille and Elsham.’
‘But Donwich is no killer,’ said March firmly. ‘I can assure you of that.’
Bartholomew ignored him. ‘What was Aynton doing while you defended Clare Hall from the Master’s guests?’ he asked.
‘He was with us for the first part of the evening, but he slipped out shortly after Donwich did,’ replied March, and glanced uneasily at his colleagues. ‘He …’
‘We think he followed Donwich,’ said Pulham, willing to voice his suspicions, even if March could not bring himself to do it. ‘To prove once and for all that Donwich’s friendship with Lucy is not as innocent as Donwich maintains. Aynton deplored their liaison, you see, because it set a bad example to our students.’
‘Which is why Donwich sent them home early, of course,’ said March bitterly. ‘Damn the man! He does Clare Hall great harm with his lust and his greed for power.’
‘Do you have proof that Aynton was spying on Donwich?’
‘No, but it stands to reason,’ replied Pulham unhappily. ‘Why else would he have been on Bridge Street at such an hour?’
‘Did Aynton and Donwich like each other?’