‘Which part of the case shall we discuss first?’ Bartholomew asked, suspecting that the old lady’s ploy had not made the situation any better. All she had done was add fuel to an already raging fire. He eyed with some trepidation the food that was beginning to pile up on the table. ‘God’s teeth, Brother! How much meat do you think we can eat? We are not wolves, you know.’
‘Meat is better for you than vegetables,’ declared Michael authoritatively. ‘I owe my sleek and healthy appearance to the amount of meat in my diet. If I confined myself to women’s foods, like cabbages, I would not be the same person at all.’
‘Women’s foods?’ asked Bartholomew, who had never heard vegetables so described before.
‘They are green, and so increase the phlegm in the spleen. They are something all women should eat because they make them more phlegmatic – less excitable. Men, on the other hand, should eat red foods – meat – which increase the blood and make them choleric. It is obvious.’
‘Is it, indeed?’ asked Bartholomew, startled that the normally sharp-witted monk should invent such outlandish notions. But then, Michael was not a rational man where food was concerned.
The monk ripped the leg off a chicken. ‘Those peas are all yours, by the way. Peas are a waste of stomach space.’
‘We should discuss these murders,’ said Bartholomew, watching Michael feed with weary resignation. The monk’s restricted diet had lasted a mere two days. ‘Where shall we start?’
‘At the beginning: with Deschalers and Bottisham.’ Michael took a knife from his scrip and began to hack chunks of pork from a bone. ‘They did not die naturally, but we do not know whether we have two murders, or a suicide and a murder. If the latter is true, we do not know which of the pair killed the other or why. We know they disliked each other, and we know Deschalers played cruel tricks on Bottisham. Each had a motive to kill.’
‘Deschalers may have used the last of his strength to stab Bottisham, but I am not convinced. I still think he was too ill.’
‘In which case we have Bottisham killing Deschalers, then himself. If he slew Deschalers by accident – although it is hard to imagine how he “accidentally” slipped a nail into his rival’s palate – then I suppose he may have decided that suicide was the only way to escape from his predicament without shaming his College. Still I find it hard to imagine anyone killing himself by driving a nail into his mouth. It cannot have been easy.’
‘No,’ said Bartholomew thoughtfully. ‘Neither man had been dead long before the bodies were discovered, and Bottisham was not the kind of man to make such a momentous decision without careful consideration. Besides, I still cannot believe that Bottisham would kill anyone, even an ancient enemy like Deschalers. I liked him, Brother. He was a good man.’
‘I know,’ said Michael, his mouth full of meat. ‘But we cannot afford to let sympathy cloud our judgement. However, do not forget the phial you found at the King’s Mill. It is possible there was something in that which lent Deschalers the strength to commit murder – or something that turned gentle Bottisham into a killer.’
‘Perhaps,’ acknowledged Bartholomew.
‘Bernarde,’ mused Michael. ‘What about him as the culprit?’
‘I can see him dispatching Bottisham, who was due to argue against him in the mill dispute. But not Deschalers, who was on his side.’
‘But Deschalers was not on his side,’ said Michael, spearing a slab of beef. ‘He refused to burn Mortimer’s Mill when the rest of Millers’ Society thought it was a good idea. And do not forget that he had recently become Edward Mortimer’s kin by marriage.’
‘I am more inclined to look elsewhere for our culprits – towards two men who we know have a liking for violent death.’
‘Thorpe and Edward,’ said Michael. ‘They arrive in the town, and within days two men are dead in odd circumstances. It is suspicious. But neither is stupid. Why would they indulge in a killing spree as soon as they return to the place that has charged them with such crimes before?’
‘Because Edward has gained a good deal from Deschalers’s death? He is now a wealthy man.’
‘But he will not reap the benefits of what has been a thriving business,’ said Michael, chewing thoughtfully. ‘He dismissed the trained apprentices, and it is only a matter of time before the enterprise Deschalers crafted so lovingly withers away.’
‘Do you think Edward is damaging it intentionally, to spite the town? Deschalers was a good grocer, and the loss of his services will be a serious blow to his customers.’
‘Possibly. Where else will we purchase fruit, onions, cheese and dried beans? But perhaps he just does not care about what might happen tomorrow. He is a young man, and they are often prone to live for the moment, with no thought for the future.’
‘But why kill Bottisham? Bottisham had never harmed either him or Thorpe.’
‘Perhaps Bottisham was in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ suggested Michael. ‘Or perhaps Thorpe and Edward did the killing together. It would make sense. It could not have been easy to murder two men one after the other – one would have tried to escape. If Edward and Thorpe acted together, they could have dispatched both victims simultaneously. However, this assumes Bernarde and his boy are lying: that there were other people in the mill when they say it was empty.’
‘We must not forget Rougham, either,’ said Bartholomew. ‘There was henbane in the Water of Snails he is alleged to have sent one man. Gonville wants to make a great deal of money from the Mortimers, so we can conclude that Rougham did not care for their enemy Deschalers, despite the fact that he was a patient. He may well have poisoned Deschalers.’
‘You may be right about that, but he liked Bottisham – who was going to defend Mortimer’s Mill to the Commission, and who was a respected member of his own College. I doubt very much whether Rougham killed him.’
But Bartholomew was not so sure. ‘This chapel is important to Rougham, and I believe he will do virtually anything to see it built. Do you recall why Deschalers hated Bottisham? Because Bottisham refused to resort to bribery to win a case. It is possible that Rougham prefers his lawyers corruptible, too, so he can be certain Gonville will win for the Mortimers – and secure a handsome donation for the chapel into the bargain.’
Michael’s eyes were bright. ‘You argue this very strongly. It was not many hours ago that you were telling me the evidence against Rougham was thin.’
‘That was before we knew for a fact that Warde was murdered,’ replied Bartholomew tersely. Paxtone flashed into his mind, but he kept the thought to himself. ‘Also, we must not neglect Lavenham. He mixed Warde’s potion.’
Michael rubbed his chin. ‘And he might have added a fatal dose of henbane to it.’
Bartholomew nodded. ‘Either because he made a terrible and careless mistake. Or because Warde intended to represent the Mortimers’ arguments to the Commission.’
Michael was thoughtful. ‘The Water of Snails arrived with the note, and Bingham took both to Warde. But who knows what happened to the phial while it was in Warde’s room? Any of his colleagues might have got to it. Last time I mentioned this, you told me they have no motive, but it may be that we just have not discovered one yet.’
Bartholomew sighed. ‘So, our suspects for Deschalers’s murder are the Mortimers, Thorpe, Rougham and Bottisham. Our suspects for Bottisham’s death are the Mortimers, Thorpe, Rougham, Deschalers and the Millers’ Society. And our suspects for Warde’s death include Rougham, Lavenham and the scholars of Valence Marie.’
‘And the Millers’ Society. Do not forget who else bought Water of Snails, besides Rougham – Cheney, Morice and Bernarde.’