The Hand of Justice

‘Not all of them,’ said Bartholomew. ‘I still have questions about the potion that killed Warde and Bess. Did you add henbane to your Water of Snails? Accidentally?’

Lavenham bristled indignantly. ‘I not! I make Baker Dozen — thirteen phial. You see entry in my book, and know how many I sell. Two of Cheney, two of Bernarde and two of Morice in first batch. In second, four of Rougham and three spare. Bernarde, Cheney and Morice drank and still alive.’

‘Bernarde is not,’ said Bartholomew, although he did not think Water of Snails was responsible.

‘Rougham gave three of his phials to his Gonville colleagues, and they are not dead,’ said Isobel. ‘So, you cannot accuse us of adding henbane to the one he prescribed for Warde. Warde and Bess must have died from something else.’

‘Rougham,’ mused Bartholomew thoughtfully. ‘We are back to him. I do not suppose he has purchased other toxic substances from you recently, has he?’

‘He is a physician, and is obliged to use plants like henbane occasionally,’ said Isobel. ‘You also purchased some — for Isnard’s lice. And Paxtone bought a little for his Warden’s gout.’

‘Rougham bought henbane?’ pounced Bartholomew, ignoring Paxtone for a more promising villain. ‘What for?’

‘We did not ask,’ said Isobel indignantly. ‘It is not our business to question our customers. He bought a lot of it about a month ago, but he did not tell me why.’

‘Isobel has given me a gold noble for my help tonight,’ said William, becoming bored with murder. ‘For the University Chest, of course. Perhaps I can use it to purchase another Hand …’

‘No!’ said Michael quickly. ‘We have had enough of those, thank you very much.’

‘I suppose someone stole it when I was out of the chamber,’ said William, frowning as he tried to identify a culprit. ‘I occasionally leave trusted individuals alone, so they can make their petitions in private. I do not want to be party to too many guilty secrets and hidden desires.’

‘You told us you always keep the reliquary locked,’ said Bartholomew, suspecting that trust and bribes went hand in hand with William. ‘So, how did it come to be stolen?’

‘I have been busy,’ said William in a whine. ‘I may have forgotten to secure it once or twice. So many people came to appeal to the Hand …’

‘Who?’ demanded Michael.

‘Bernarde for one,’ replied William. His jaw dropped. ‘You do not think he took it, and that is why he was burned to a cinder in the inferno? The Hand of Justice repaid him for his audacity?’

‘There is no proof of that,’ said Michael firmly. ‘Who else?’

‘I left Edward and young Thorpe unattended, because Wynewyk was with them, and I assumed he would prevent any mischief. But he now tells me they robbed him.’

‘That is why we have been dining on nettles and stale bread for the past three weeks. Who else?’

William began reeling off names. ‘Mayor Morice would be my first suspect, but he took nothing with him because I would have seen it bulging under his tight-fitting tunic. Stanmore came, but he is an honest man. Quenhyth prayed briefly. Paxtone visited, but Pulham was with him, and I do not think they are close enough to trust each other with theft. Thomas and Constantine Mortimer popped in, bringing their servants. Cheney was in company with Langelee and Redmeadow. Clippesby and Kenyngham. Rougham came several times …’

‘Rougham,’ said Bartholomew. ‘He is determined to have the Hand for Gonville. He took it!’

‘My money is on Thorpe and Mortimer,’ said Michael. ‘But since the thing is a fraud anyway, I do not think we need waste any more time on it.’ He gazed at the Lavenhams. ‘I appreciate why you are keen to leave, but you must remain here a little longer, in case we have more questions.’

‘Very well,’ said Isobel reluctantly. ‘We will stay tomorrow — if we are permitted to hide in this chamber. But we go at dawn on Friday, whether you have questions or not.’

‘Rougham,’ said Bartholomew, as they walked home from mass the following morning, ‘I knew he was involved. We should confront him with what we know, before he has the same idea as Lavenham and slips away with his ill-gotten gains.’

Michael did not think Rougham’s visits to the Hand necessarily implied that he had stolen it, but agreed that another trip to Gonville was in order. Rougham had not been honest about the fact that he had purchased four phials of Water of Snails from Lavenham, and the monk felt he needed to explain why he had lied and what he had done with them.

There were only two Gonville Fellows left, following the death of Bottisham and the flight of Ufford, Despenser and Thompson. Rougham and Pulham were in the conclave finishing breakfast together and, judging by the pleasure with which Pulham greeted the Senior Proctor and his Corpse Examiner, he considered the interruption a timely one. Rougham sat morosely silent, and his face turned sour with disapproval when the Acting Master waved the guests in.