‘Thank God we have our gates back,’ muttered Michael as they passed their College. Langelee and Ayera were setting them back in their posts. Both looked uneasy as the monk and his pack of beadles trotted past, and Langelee indicated that Ayera was to hurry. Michaelhouse was not the only foundation to be awake: lamps burned in nearby Physwick and Ovyng hostels, while Gonville Hall was positively ablaze with torches.
‘Please, Brother,’ said Bartholomew, trying again to voice his concerns, which mounted with every step he took. ‘Something feels very wrong about Cynric’s find.’
‘What is wrong?’ snapped Michael impatiently. ‘It provides everything we need to arrest these villains.’
‘Exactly,’ pounced Bartholomew. ‘And Kendale is not stupid. I seriously doubt he would keep such a neat collection of “evidence” under his bed. Cynric said it was virtually the first place he looked, and Kendale would have been more wary about where he left it.’
‘This is nonsense,’ said Michael with annoyance. ‘Like me, you have suspected Kendale of killing Drax from the beginning, so do not look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, I doubt he anticipated that we would burgle him, so he probably saw no reason to find a better hiding place for his box of treasures.’
Chestre loomed through the swirling fog, and Bartholomew saw several beadles cross themselves as they approached. The dampness had darkened its plaster, and the ‘face’ formed by its windows was lit by lanterns within. It seemed to be scowling.
‘You were brave to go in there alone, Cynric,’ said Beadle Meadowman, ‘when everyone knows Kendale has invited a lot of evil spirits to live with him. I am not keen on entering, and I am with you and a dozen stalwart men. And Doctor Bartholomew, of course, who is on good terms with the Devil and will see off any demons who try to harm us.’
‘Yes – we will be safe with him,’ agreed Cynric comfortably, while Bartholomew supposed it was not the time to reiterate that he had no such understanding with Satan. He saw other beadles nod their appreciation of the protection they thought he afforded, and wondered whether he would ever slough off the sinister reputation he had acquired.
Michael hammered on Chestre’s door, and every beadle crossed himself a second time when the sound boomed hollowly and eerily along the hallway within. Bartholomew was tempted to do likewise, because it was certainly unsettling, especially in his unhappy and agitated state. He leapt in alarm when there was a sudden hissing sound and something dark whipped past his face. It looked like a huge bat, all jagged wings and pointed claws, which swooped for a moment, then fluttered into the shadows on the opposite side of the lane.
‘Demons!’ hissed Cynric, and several beadles yelped their fright. ‘Come to inspect us.’
But Bartholomew saw a flash of movement at an upper window, and heard a muted snigger. He walked to where the thing had landed.
‘Parchment,’ he said, picking it up. ‘Cut into a sinister shape, and propelled by some kind of membrane that holds air under pressure.’
‘A trick,’ said Michael in disgust. ‘Something that might impress children, but that has no impact on my bold beadles. It will take more than a hoax to unsettle their brave hearts.’
His words had the desired effect, and his men stood a little taller. He pounded on the door again, and eventually it was opened by Neyll, who did not seem at all surprised that the Senior Proctor and a sizeable retinue should be calling at such an hour. Bartholomew suspected he was one of those who had released the parchment spectre, in the hope that it would send them scurrying for their lives.
‘What do you want?’ Neyll demanded coldly. ‘We are all in bed.’
‘With torches burning?’ asked Michael archly. ‘And within moments of watching the Sheriff manhandle his trebuchet back to the castle? I do not think so!’
‘The Colleges had to help Tulyet in the end,’ sneered Neyll, not bothering to deny the charge. ‘He is stupid! But even then, it took them days to manage what the hostels achieved in hours.’
‘On the contrary,’ said Michael haughtily. ‘Once we had been invited to participate, the problem was solved in moments, not hours. But we are not here to discuss foolery. We have come on a far more serious matter, namely murder. Stand aside and let us enter.’
When Michael, with Bartholomew, Cynric and the beadles at his heels, marched into Chestre’s hall, Kendale was sitting in a comfortable chair by the hearth. All his students were with him, every one of them holding a goblet. The place reeked of wine.
‘We are discussing tomorrow’s camp-ball,’ Kendale said. Then his eyes widened when he saw the number of beadles who were crowding into his lair. ‘What in God’s name–’
‘There will be no game,’ interrupted Michael briskly. ‘Because you will be in my prison. You have committed theft and murder, and I have evidence to prove it.’
‘What are you talking about?’ demanded Kendale, coming quickly to his feet. ‘We have not killed anyone. And we have not stolen anything, either. At least, nothing of significance. My lads have just confessed to me that they were responsible for borrowing your gates, but you have them back now, and it was only a joke. You cannot arrest us for a joke.’
‘We did it without his knowledge,’ added Neyll defiantly. ‘So you cannot detain him, because he had nothing to do with the escapade.’
‘I am furious about it,’ said Kendale. ‘It was a stupid prank, one unworthy of our talents.’
‘Never mind the gates,’ said Michael briskly. ‘I refer to evidence that says you stabbed Drax and left his corpse in Michaelhouse, that you put poison in wine that dispatched Alice Heslarton, and that you have been stealing signacula. You doubtless murdered Gib, too.’
Kendale was suddenly pale. ‘But you cannot have evidence, Brother, because there is none to find! We are innocent of these charges. Why would we kill Gib? He was one of us.’
Michael showed him the box. ‘Here are letters, poison and a stolen signaculum. All were found under your bed earlier tonight, so do not deny that they are yours.’
‘But I do deny it!’ cried Kendale, shocked. ‘I have never seen that chest before! And do you really think I would own something so wretched? Not only is it poorly made, but I do not go in for rudimentary puns on the Latin word for Chestre. I have more taste.’
‘The letters are addressed to you,’ said Michael, waving them at him. ‘They are from Drax, and comprise several demands for more rent.’
‘But Drax never sent letters – he was illiterate. He only ever asked for more rent verbally.’
‘Then what about the poison?’ demanded Michael. ‘There can be no excuse for that being here.’
‘This is outrageous and ridiculous!’ shouted Kendale. ‘We have no reason to harm anyone in the de Colvyll household. And may I remind you, we were not angry about the scholarship Emma declined to fund, because we had already decided not to accept it. We did not want to be in the debt of such a family – we have our principles. Unlike some foundations, it would seem.’
‘And the badge?’ asked Michael, ignoring the dig. ‘How do you explain that?’
‘Clearly, it was left here in a clumsy attempt to implicate us in crimes we did not commit,’ said Neyll hotly, saying much what Bartholomew had already reasoned. ‘Someone wants us hanged.’
‘Moreover, it is only one badge,’ added Kendale, coming to peer at it. ‘One. And do you know why? Because the culprit was reluctant to waste more than that in his effort to frame us. If you do not believe me, then search the place. You will not find any more.’