‘So?’ demanded Morice, irritated that the monk could indeed make inferences from the results of his questioning. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means he intended to come here,’ said Michael. ‘And that Bottisham is unlikely to have arranged it, because Deschalers was the one with the key.’
‘So, Isobel was right,’ said Cheney thoughtfully. ‘The real question we should ask is what was Bottisham doing here, not Deschalers. Bottisham was a scholar, after all, and not the sort of man with whom Deschalers would normally deign to fraternise.’
‘And he was from Gonville Hall,’ added Morice meaningfully.
‘Why is that significant?’ asked Michael.
Cheney replied. ‘Because Gonville are representing Mortimer’s Mill – our rivals – in the case we intend to bring before the King. We are suing them because they keep stealing our water.’
Morice’s expression was smug. ‘But we will win this case, because some of our profits go to the King – and the King is not a man to let the Mortimers interfere with the contents of his coffers.’
Bartholomew was sure he was right. The King was always in need of money, and would not let the Mortimers deprive him of what seemed to be a fairly regular and easy source of income. He would be almost certain to find in the Millers’ Society’s favour. However, the scholars of Gonville were skilled and clever lawyers, as he had seen for himself in the Disputatio. It was possible that the Mortimers’ case was not so hopeless after all.
‘You are not in a position to make comments about the integrity of others, Morice,’ countered Michael acidly. ‘I understand it was an endorsement from you that allowed King’s Pardons to be issued to Edward Mortimer and Rob Thorpe.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Morice calmly, and if he was concerned that his colleagues were regarding him uneasily, then he did not show it. ‘That had nothing to do with me. It must have been a forgery. These Westminster clerks are good at that sort of thing. They learn such skills in the universities.’
Bartholomew put his hand on the monk’s shoulder, to prevent the caustic retort he was sure was coming. They needed answers, not an argument with a man who could barely speak without uttering some falsehood. ‘But if Gonville’s clerks intend to represent the Mortimers, then it is very odd that Deschalers should be in this mill with Bottisham – a Gonville scholar,’ he said.
‘Very,’ agreed Cheney. ‘It looks as though Deschalers was consorting with the enemy. However, we must remember that he was a clever man, and may have been trying to make some sort of arrangement to our advantage. I do not think his liaison with Bottisham necessarily implies he was doing something that might harm the Society.’
‘I am not so sure,’ said Bernarde worriedly. ‘If he was being honest, then why not meet Bottisham during the day, in a tavern or a church? You are wrong, Cheney. The fact that Deschalers was here alone in the dark with Bottisham indicates that he was up to no good as far as I am concerned.’
‘He was probably buying shares in the Mortimers’ enterprise,’ said Morice angrily, quick to condemn. ‘And that would have weakened our case. Damn the man! What was he thinking of?’
They continued to bicker, so Bartholomew went inside the mill again, thinking he should conduct a final search if it was going into action in an hour. Once the waterwheel started to turn, any remaining evidence would quickly be obliterated. He felt under considerable pressure to find something, but although he exhausted himself by frantically hauling bags of grain this way and that as he hunted for clues, his Herculean efforts went unrewarded.
When he had finished, he stood still, trying to catch his breath. The complex mess of gears and cogs had been scoured and lovingly coated with grease, while the millstones had been scrubbed spotlessly clean. Bernarde’s boy was still working on them, and Bartholomew thought no one need have concerns about finding body parts in their bread. As the great wheel was lowered into the water to commence its work, Bartholomew dropped to his knees and began one last, desperate inspection of the floor, ignoring the splinters that stabbed his hands as he groped under sacks and bins.
Bernarde’s apprentices started to arrive, tripping over him and treading on his fingers, and at last he was forced to concede defeat. He stood again, thinking that Michael’s assumptions must be correct: Deschalers had indeed met Bottisham after dark, when he knew the mill would be locked. It would be an ideal location for an assignation he did not want anyone to know he was having. But why? Was Morice correct: that the grocer had been trying to strike some sort of bargain with a man who was legally representing his adversary? Or was it nothing to do with the mill dispute, and the two men had other things to discuss?
‘There is nothing here, Brother,’ he said, when Michael came to join him. The monk regarded him with amusement, and when he looked down he saw his clothes were covered in dust, giving him a ghostly appearance. He brushed irritably at his tabard, raising a cloud of white. ‘I hope it does not rain today, or I will find myself encased in pastry.’
‘No,’ said Michael, after a moment of serious thought. ‘You need butter and lard to make pastry, so you will be encased in glue. What do you think of them, Matt? The Millers’ Society, I mean?’
‘They are like all merchants – there is good and bad in each. Except Morice, of course. There is no good whatsoever in him. He is unashamedly corrupt, and is motivated purely by self-interest.’
‘What of the others? Cheney? The Lavenhams?’
‘Cheney is pompous, but decent enough. Lavenham is as untrustworthy an individual as I have ever met. He knows I re-weigh the medicines he sells me, so he has stopped cheating me now. Isobel is very popular with my students, because she seduces them each time they visit her shop.’
‘And what do you think about this dispute with the Mortimers over water?’
‘I think they should resolve the issue like rational men. I do not approve of rushing to the King each time there is a squabble. The Mortimers should be careful about how much water they divert, and the Millers’ Society should devise some sort of timetable to avoid clashes. It cannot be that difficult. They worked perfectly well together until recently.’
‘Things are always difficult when there are large amounts of money at stake,’ said Michael soberly. ‘And there is plenty of money in milling.’
CHAPTER 4
On Mondays Bartholomew taught in the mornings, then took his three senior students – Quenhyth, Redmeadow and Deynman – with him when he visited his patients. But his mind was full of Bottisham and Deschalers as he ate the bowl of oatmeal Agatha had saved for his breakfast, and he wondered whether he should abandon his academic duties and concentrate on the murders instead. But he could think of nothing to do that would move the enquiry along, and his students were waiting. Reluctantly, he went to the hall and led a discussion on the Greek physician Galen’s short treatise on barley soup. After the midday meal, he collected his three students and set off to see his patients, Bottisham’s death still playing heavily on his mind.
The arrival of Rougham and Paxtone in Cambridge had relaxed the pressure on him considerably, and he now had a list of patients he felt was manageable. Most of the folk who had abandoned him were wealthy, and preferred the newcomers’ willingness to calculate horoscopes and concoct potions to help them recover from the after-effects of too much food and drink. Bartholomew was left with the town’s poor, whom the others would not have deigned to advise anyway, although Paxtone offered free consultations on Wednesday evenings.
Although a shorter list of people wanting his services was a blessing, Bartholomew soon discovered that the ones who summoned him invariably could not pay him or buy the medicines he recommended. While he was not overly concerned about the loss of income for himself – his basic needs were provided for by his College stipend – he was unhappy about the fact that there were folk suffering just because they could not afford to purchase what they needed to make them well. Sometimes he received donations from generous colleagues, but more often than not he was obliged to pay for the remedies himself or watch his patients try to recover without them.