‘Unfortunately, she did not kill him instantly, and he heard her talking about going to Cambridge,’ continued Michael. ‘He charged Eu and Abergavenny – and Wormynghalle, without knowing his role in the affair – to bring his killer to justice. Then Joan and her brother decided to turn what could have been an awkward situation to their own advantage. We might have had the answer to this sooner, Matt, if you had mentioned that King’s Hall was recruiting women. I could have told you no good would come of it.’
‘She was an excellent scholar,’ objected Bartholomew. ‘Besides, I see no reason why women should not be allowed to study.’
‘Neither do I,’ said Clippesby, throwing his stones in the air. ‘Pigs do it, and the world has not tumbled around our ears. There is very little more erudite than a sow, you know.’
‘I shall take your word for it,’ said Michael shortly. He resumed his analysis before Clippesby could lead them off into some strange world of his own. ‘Joan exhorted the merchants to investigate her husband’s death, then came to enjoy herself at King’s Hall.’
‘Polmorva had witnessed Gonerby’s murder and was encouraged to accompany the merchants,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Joan did not care – she knew he had seen nothing of import or she would have killed him – but Duraunt extended the invitation because he thought Polmorva planned to dispatch the Master of Queen’s College for personal gain.’
‘Wormynghalle wanted Eu and Abergavenny to come, because it was a chance to rid himself of two burgesses who would vote against him as Mayor,’ continued Clippesby. ‘Duraunt suggested they should all travel together, and offered them accommodation at Merton Hall when he realised they were likely to cause trouble. But why was he so magnanimous? The Merton Hall cat told me he is not an especially good man, just an average one.’
‘Because Oxford is under interdict, and he does not want Cambridge to fall into the same pit,’ replied Michael. ‘Cambridge is Merton’s bolt-hole, should Oxford be suppressed or collapse. It is in his interests to preserve Cambridge.’
‘So, you were wrong to assume that the Oxford men came to cause trouble,’ said Clippesby, jigging and dodging to keep his stones in the air. ‘None of them cared anything for Islip and his rumoured foundation. It was something you might have done, Brother, but nothing they considered.’
Michael ignored the accusation that he was a schemer. ‘As soon as her brother arrived, Joan went to visit him, but she was heard discussing her success by Okehamptone. Joan killed him with her teeth, and they hid the wound, so I would think a fever had claimed him.’
‘But Joan knew – probably through Paxtone – that the Senior Proctor has a Corpse Examiner who is thorough,’ said Clippesby, putting his hands over his head as his stones plummeted around him. ‘So, she arranged for Weasenham to summon Matt for his toothache and prevent him from looking at the body.’
‘How did she do that?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘Weasenham did have toothache, but how did she persuade him to choose me over Rougham, his regular physician?’
‘The bat, who lives in Weasenham’s roof, told me that Joan promised him all manner of gossip if he did as she asked,’ replied Clippesby. ‘Then, while her room-mate Hamecotes – who likes green ink and who was always in Weasenham’s shop buying it – obligingly fetched you, she regaled him with wild lies to keep her end of the bargain. This all happened a matter of hours before Hamecotes made his devastating discovery about her sex and threatened to expose her.’
‘A bat,’ said Michael flatly. ‘I do not suppose you happened to be lurking in the shop at the time, and also heard this chatter?’
‘Well, yes,’ admitted Clippesby, gathering his stones. ‘I was there, too. Joan also made sure that Paxtone was available when you needed a Corpse Examiner, knowing he dislikes touching the dead and would never properly investigate a body. So, that was Okehamptone dealt with. It transpired that Polmorva was the sole beneficiary of his will, which made you suspect him of murder, but he was innocent.’
‘The same night, they decided to get rid of Rougham,’ said Bartholomew. ‘They were right to try: Rougham would have made a fuss about his friend Okehamptone’s sudden death. The tanner was supposed to kill Rougham with the teeth, but he was not as proficient as Joan, and he failed.’
‘There was also me,’ said Clippesby. ‘I disturbed him before he could finish.’
‘Joan probably smeared the teeth with excrement,’ said Bartholomew. ‘She knew her brother was not as efficient as her, and added the filth as insurance against his failure. Clippesby saw Wormynghalle’s medallion during the attack, which he thought was wolf-shaped.’
‘Rougham was lucky you helped him, Matt,’ said Clippesby, hurling the stones in the air again, far too high. ‘He is not a good medicus, and if he had tried to physic himself he would be dead for certain. Your kindness came at high cost, though – for you and Matilde, as well as for me. It occurred to me to do nothing to ward off the attack, because he is an unpleasant man who I once saw kicking a cat, but I found I could not stand by and watch someone slaughtered.’
‘And that was Rougham finished,’ said Michael. ‘When he disappeared, they assumed he had run away. The following day, while he lay gripped by fever in Matilde’s house, Clippesby was sent to Stourbridge. But speaking of Matilde, it has been a week since you told me of your intention to marry her, Matt. What did she say?’
Bartholomew glared at him. ‘You know I have not been able to see her, because of all the extra duties imposed by the Visitation.’
‘She wants you to ask,’ said Clippesby. He smiled shyly when Bartholomew raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Edwardus Rex, Yolande de Blaston’s dog, often hears Matilde talking about you. He says she will take you tomorrow, if only you would speak to her about it.’
‘I will, then,’ said Bartholomew softly. ‘I will ask her tomorrow.’
‘Good,’ said Clippesby. ‘Do it straight after prime. I will watch your class until you come back. Do not delay, because Edwardus says she will not wait for ever.’ He resumed his juggling, leaving Bartholomew determined to erect some strong gates when he was married, to prevent Clippesby from eavesdropping on Matilde’s confidences with her friends again.
‘Then Hamecotes died,’ said Michael, going back to their analysis. ‘Murdered by Joan because he stumbled across her true identity, but was not sympathetic. When Matt unveiled her on Wednesday, she set her brother to kill him, too. She trusted no one.’
‘Do not take any notice of what Duraunt said, Matt,’ said Clippesby, blanching as one of his rocks landed in Michael’s lap. ‘He claimed you were insular, because you disapproved of the false teeth. You have your foibles, but who does not?’
‘You do, and that is for sure,’ muttered Michael, snatching up the stone and threatening to lob it back. Clippesby sat down quickly. ‘So, Hamecotes was hidden in the Merton Hall cistern, where she imagined his body would remain for ever. But then Chesterfelde died, killed by a friendship pact, and Matt saw the blood. We asked Tulyet to drain the well, so Joan moved the body to King’s Hall, where she anticipated she would have time to work out what to do with it.’
‘But Dodenho practised his lectures there, and her secret was out,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Joan did an excellent job of brazening out the situation. She told us Hamecotes had sent letters, and seemed heartbroken by his death. She had me fooled.’
‘Me too,’ admitted Michael. ‘Meanwhile, she was afraid that Spryngheuse, who was frightened and unstable, would also cause problems. When Chesterfelde died, he became even more distressed, and it was an easy matter for her to don a Benedictine habit and urge him to kill himself.’