A Killer in Winter

Michael raised his eyebrows. ‘And how can you do that?’

‘Because I have a message written by her,’ said Quenhyth smugly. He produced a piece of parchment with a flourish. ‘I decided to take it, because Frith would have rid himself of it by the time I had alerted you. The message was in plain view, between two floorboards.’

Michael snatched the note from him, read it quickly, then handed it to Bartholomew. It contained nothing other than the name Dympna and a series of numbers, just like the ones they had seen on the parchment in Gosslinge’s throat. These were one, thirteen and four, and the ink was pale enough to be all but invisible. The message still made no sense to the physician, although Quenhyth was right in that it indicated an association between the Waits and the benevolent moneylenders. Or perhaps they had gained possession of one of the messages sent to Norbert.

‘Being between the floorboards is not in plain view,’ said Bartholomew, passing it to Langelee.

‘It was in plain view to anyone conducting a thorough and meticulous search,’ said Quenhyth pedantically. ‘Well, what do you think? It is damning evidence, is it not?’

Michael took Bartholomew’s arm and pulled him away, so they could speak without being overheard by Quenhyth. Langelee followed, raising an imperious finger at the student to tell him to stay where he was.

‘It is possible that the Waits applied for a loan from Dympna, and this message is Dympna’s response,’ said Michael. ‘It is obviously in some kind of code.’

‘The one we found inside Gosslinge was written with onion ink or some such thing,’ said Bartholomew. ‘It only became visible when warmed. I wonder why this is not the same.’

‘I was once fooled by that, too,’ said Langelee, who knew a lot about codes and secret messages from his days as a spy for the Archbishop of York. ‘I believed a message had been written invisibly, but it transpired some cheap inks just fade with extremes of temperature – as this has started to do. The recent weather has been very cold.’

‘So Gosslinge’s note was not written in secret ink?’ asked Michael, shooting Bartholomew a look that indicated he felt the physician had misled him.

‘Probably not,’ said Langelee. ‘Why write invisibly, if the message is meaningful only to the recipient? However, remember also that codes are only good if the recipient knows what they mean, otherwise there is no point in using them.’

Bartholomew took the parchment, and thought about Langelee’s words: something that would be understood by each recipient. The fact that these possibly included Norbert, Gosslinge and the Waits meant it had to be something very simple. Suddenly, the whole thing was crystal clear.

‘Of course!’ he exclaimed. ‘I understand! One, thirteen and four.’

‘I can see that,’ snapped Michael testily. ‘The question is, what does it mean?’

‘There are three numbers here, just as there were three on the note we discovered in Gosslinge. And those numbers represent pounds, shillings and pence.’

‘Can it really be as basic as that?’ asked Michael, inspecting the parchment with renewed interest. ‘Someone makes an application, and Dympna responds by sending a note specifying the amount it is prepared to advance?’

‘Why not?’ asked Bartholomew. ‘There is no reason to believe it is more complex. The Waits have asked for five nobles – one pound, thirteen shillings and fourpence. Or perhaps they have borrowed money, and this is the sum Dympna would like repaid.’

‘Yes,’ said Michael, nodding excited agreement. ‘The latter. Such a scheme would explain why Norbert received messages from Dympna with such frequency: he had borrowed money, and Dympna was issuing demands for its repayment, either in full or in part.’

‘But Norbert had not borrowed money,’ Bartholomew pointed out. ‘Tulyet, Robin and Ailred all said his was not the kind of case they sponsor.’

‘Then perhaps Dympna’s members have not been acting together,’ suggested Michael. ‘It seems to me that one has been making loans without the knowledge of the others. We know Robin is not involved in financial decisions. Meanwhile, Kenyngham’s retirement has made him very absent-minded and Dick Tulyet is busy watching Sheriff Morice destroy everything he has worked to achieve. Neither of them will be watching Dympna very carefully at the moment.’

‘That leaves Ailred,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Do not forget the chest was in his care until recently, so he was in a position to raid it without the others being any the wiser.’

‘And then he wrote messages to Norbert demanding it back,’ said Michael nodding. ‘And as long as Norbert was crippled by repayment obligations, he would remain at Ovyng, where his uncle would pay for his education.’

‘Did Norbert know the principal of his own hostel was a member of Dympna?’ asked Bartholomew. He answered his own question. ‘Of course he did not. Ailred would not have written notes if that were the case – he would just have asked Norbert for the money.’