A Killer in Winter

Eventually, Ailred abandoned the ice, although he was clearly reluctant to do so. His departure was followed by disappointed cries from his new friends, who begged him to stay and ‘play’ with them. Amused to be invited to join a children’s gang, Ailred patted one or two affectionately on the head, then sat on the bank to untie the leather straps that held his skates in place.

‘Those are good blades, Father,’ said Michael, making the Franciscan jump by coming up behind him and speaking loudly. ‘But they look old. You must have had them for some time.’

‘Years,’ said Ailred, flushed and happy from his exertions. ‘I love skating, and had these made specially for me before I became a friar. But what can I do for you? I am sure you did not brave this inclement weather just to watch my little display.’

‘No,’ agreed Michael. ‘We came to ask more questions about Norbert – questions that we think might help us find his killer at last.’

‘Really?’ asked Ailred, bending a leg so he could inspect one of his feet. ‘That is good news. You were taking so long I was beginning to fear it would never be solved. Damn! A broken thong!’

‘We are very close to solving this mystery,’ said Michael, although this was news to Bartholomew. ‘We have uncovered a good deal of evidence since you and I last spoke – including the fact that you are a member of Dympna.’

Ailred glanced sharply at him. ‘Who told you that? It is supposed to be a secret. Was it Kenyngham? He is at Michaelhouse, so I suppose he must have decided that loyalty to a member of his College was more important than Dympna.’

‘It was not Kenyngham,’ said Michael. ‘And our source is irrelevant, anyway. The point is that we know. I am surprised you were among Dympna’s members. Your hostel is not wealthy.’

‘I do not provide the money myself,’ said Ailred, a little testily. ‘That came from people during the plague, who pledged their wealth to benefit others. Many friars were given quite large sums, with instructions to pass it to the poor. But Kenyngham and I decided handing out coins with gay abandon was a short-term solution, and we needed to think more carefully about what we could achieve. So, we established Dympna.’

‘You were an original member?’ asked Bartholomew.

‘I was an early member,’ corrected Ailred. ‘The original ones were Kenyngham, Giles Abigny and three Dominicans. The Black Friars died, Abigny left the town, and Kenyngham was obliged to appoint new colleagues. He chose me. Currently, we also have Dick Tulyet, who is discreet, honest and absolutely trustworthy, and Robin, who is not.’

‘Nearly all the Cambridge Dominicans died during the Death,’ said Bartholomew soberly to Michael. ‘Of all the Orders, they suffered the heaviest losses, because they continued to visit the sick and grant them absolution.’

‘They were good men,’ said Ailred sadly. ‘I still remember them in my prayers, and so do those who have been helped by their legacy. Even the Franciscans and the Carmelites pray for them, because they have benefited from Dympna.’

‘Let us return to Norbert,’ said Michael, not much interested in Dympna’s lofty history. ‘You heard Godric say that Norbert had received messages from Dympna, and that he went to meet “her” in St Michael’s. Why did you not tell us about Dympna then? It would have saved a lot of trouble.’

‘I said – several times – that you should not waste your time with Dympna, but you did not listen, and preferred to consider Godric’s interpretations. I tried to stop you from following a futile line of enquiry without betraying Dympna, but you ignored my efforts.’

‘You were Dympna’s “keeper” until recently,’ said Michael, unmoved by the reprimand. ‘Did you lend Norbert money?’

‘No,’ said Ailred shortly. ‘Norbert was not a worthy cause.’

‘Why did he receive messages from Dympna, then?’ pressed Michael.

Ailred looked tired. ‘I did not see these missives, so cannot tell you anything about them, other than to assure you that my Dympna did not send them. Perhaps Godric is right: there is a woman called Dympna who likes to send decadent young men messages begging secret meetings. It is an unusual name, but someone may have christened a daughter after the saint, I suppose.’

‘There is another matter I would like to discuss,’ said Michael. ‘I understand you are from a village near Lincoln.’

‘Yes. I often think about Lincoln, and how much better it is than Cambridge. Its cathedral is the most splendid-’

‘You are from Fiscurtune,’ interrupted Michael. ‘And Fiscurtune is a village that has suffered the recent death of someone who was born there – a relative of yours. James Fiscurtune had the misfortune to be stabbed by a fishmonger named Walter Turke. I find it a curious coincidence that Turke happened to die while he was skating. He is obviously as clumsy as you are talented.’

‘I do not know what you are talking about,’ said Ailred, standing and testing the thong he had just repaired. ‘I know neither Walter Turke nor John Fiscurtune.’