The Hand of Justice

‘Deschalers was in agony with his illness, and Rougham would not prescribe proper pain-killing medicines. I imagine Deschalers was only too grateful when a medical student arrived and proffered a substance he claimed would help. Quenhyth is a studious, precise sort of lad, and Deschalers would have no reason to doubt his competence.’

‘So,’ said Michael, ‘Deschalers lay dead, and suddenly Bottisham arrived. Quenhyth stabbed him with a nail — his medical knowledge would tell him such a wound would be fatal. Then he pierced Deschalers’s corpse with another nail to confuse us. You trained him well, Matt: it worked perfectly.’

‘Then he engaged the waterwheel and threw the bodies into the machinery to muddy the waters even further. But how did he escape without being seen by Bernarde? Or do you think Bernarde did see him, but declined to mention the fact? We will never know, now he is dead.’

‘But we know why he is dead,’ said Michael. ‘Quenhyth burned him to ensure he never told. It had nothing to do with the meeting of the King’s Commissioners, as everyone has assumed.’

‘The fire allowed him to kill Bernarde and prevent us from proving that three phials of Water of Snails and some henbane were stolen from Lavenham’s shop,’ said Bartholomew. ‘I doubt Quenhyth bought them, because Lavenham would have mentioned it last night. Besides, Quenhyth has no money.’

‘And we must not forget what Dick Tulyet told us, either,’ said Michael. ‘After the fire started, only one person was running in the opposite direction — someone in a scholar’s tabard.’

‘I thought he meant Wynewyk or Paxtone,’ said Bartholomew. ‘But it was Quenhyth. We know the fire was started using wood that Lavenham had been collecting. Quenhyth was with me the day I heard Isobel complaining about it, so he knew there was convenient kindling to hand. And, of course he killed Bess.’

‘Why? She was a lunatic.’

‘But she was a lunatic who had some connection to Quenhyth. I should have seen this days ago.’

‘How?’

‘Because of his reluctance to attend her requiem mass, for a start. And the way he did not want me to go near her, and kept drawing attention to the fact that she spoke nonsense — so I would not believe anything she said. When I pulled her away from the Great Bridge once, she addressed her questions to him, not to me. I thought she was simply deranged. But she was speaking to a man she thought might give her answers. He must have murdered Bosel, too.’

‘Because Bosel haunted the same places as Bess?’ suggested Michael. ‘She confided her story to him, and he threatened to tell? We know Bosel enjoyed blackmailing folk when he could.’

‘It was good luck for Quenhyth that Bosel was a witness to Lenne’s accident. We all assumed Thomas Mortimer had killed him. But Thomas had nothing to do with it, just as Constantine said.’

‘We have been pondering and floundering for days, and yet, within a few moments, we have many of our questions answered,’ said Michael wonderingly. ‘How has that come about?’

‘Because of an act of kindness to a child,’ said Bartholomew. ‘The rat Quenhyth made Dickon was covered in old fur, similar to that used to fill the glove masquerading as the Hand. It suggested to me that Quenhyth stole the relic. And the rest just … came together.’

‘Let us hope you are right this time,’ said Michael, standing up and preparing for a confrontation. ‘We do not want to accuse everyone of these crimes before we snare our culprit.’

Knowing that the Lavenhams did not intend to linger in Cambridge long, and sensing they might make a bid for escape sooner than they had promised, Bartholomew and Michael left the churchyard and headed straight for St Mary the Great. Father William was with Chancellor Tynkell in the room below, and waved to indicate they were to climb to the upper room without him. Lavenham and Isobel were still there, but they wore riding cloaks and brimmed hats that would hide their faces, and their saddlebags were packed. They were leaving.

‘It is not just the loss of your shop and the vengeful Mortimers driving you away, is it?’ asked Michael, leaning against the door jamb and presenting a formidable obstacle to their departure. ‘You have been careless, and you are afraid you will be held accountable for the consequences. Warde, Bosel and Bess are dead of poison, and that poison came from you.’

‘No!’ cried Lavenham. ‘We always careful in keys and locks.’

‘But you are not,’ said Bartholomew coldly. ‘I saw you pretend to unlock a cupboard that had been left open myself. You are not as cautious with dangerous substances as you should be.’ He recalled Dame Pelagia making off with something, too, to demonstrate how easily it might be done. It had not taken the old lady long to identify Lavenham’s laxness.

‘It is my fault,’ said Isobel in a tight, strangled voice. ‘But he seemed a nice fellow, and I have a soft spot for pretty young men.’

‘Quenhyth,’ said Bartholomew flatly. ‘What happened?’