The Hand of Justice

‘So, what did Bess tell him?’ asked Michael. ‘That you and she were lovers?’

‘We should have been lovers,’ said Quenhyth feebly. ‘I adored her for years. But she met a messenger called Josse, and fell in love. Josse came to Cambridge to deliver some missive and never returned, so she came to look for him. But grief had turned her wits.’

‘Josse,’ said Michael thoughtfully. ‘The man under the snowdrift.’

‘What happened to him?’ asked Bartholomew. But he had already guessed. ‘I suppose you were arguing when the snow dropped on him? And then you walked away, leaving him to suffocate?’

Quenhyth swallowed with difficulty. ‘It was an act of God, nothing to do with me. Besides, there was the danger of another fall. I did not want be buried as well.’

Bartholomew looked away, not caring to imagine what Josse must have gone through as he had died, knowing the only man who could help him was Quenhyth — and Quenhyth bore a grudge. ‘I suppose Bess recognised you, and drew her own conclusions. What did she do? Confront you in front of Deschalers?’

Quenhyth nodded. ‘I thought he did not believe her, because he gave her money and sent her on her way — and he dictated the deed leaving me the chest the same night. But he was a changed man in the days before he died — making another will to help Bottisham, giving more coins to Bess and being generous to the poor.’

‘Dying can do that to a man,’ remarked Michael. He glanced at Quenhyth. ‘To some men.’

‘She was comely once,’ said Quenhyth with the ghost of a smile. ‘I did not love her as you knew her — filthy, addled and full of lice. Deschalers said she reminded him of someone called Katherine.’

‘But you did not kill Bess until two days ago,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Why wait so long, when she had already told Bosel and Deschalers her story, and might have confided in others?’

‘I did not want to hurt her. I am not a bad man, and she became less inclined to gabble after her first couple of days here. I hoped she would just move on, but then Sheriff Tulyet showed her Josse’s hat, and she came after me again. I had to kill her then.’

‘Tell me about Deschalers,’ said Michael. ‘You followed him to the King’s Mill and found him in agony, waiting for Bottisham to arrive. Then what?’

Quenhyth closed his eyes. ‘I had given him pain-dulling potions before — because that bastard Rougham would not. I stole some from Isobel.’

‘I thought someone had taken pity on him,’ said Bartholomew. ‘He could not have ridden his horse that Saturday if someone had not stepped in to do what Rougham should have done.’

‘He was so grateful for my sudden appearance in the mill that night that he did not even ask why I happened to be there. He died within moments.’

‘And Bottisham caught you with the body, I suppose?’ asked Bartholomew.

‘He came early and started to screech. I did not know what to do, so I grabbed a nail from the floor and jerked it upwards as I came to my feet. He was leaning over me, and I ended up stabbing him in the mouth. I did not mean to hit him there, but it was effective.’

‘Then you stabbed Deschalers, to make the deaths appear identical. You did not want us to know he had been poisoned, lest we connect you with what had been stolen from Isobel. You dropped both bodies into the machinery, in the hope that the resulting mess would confound us. But there is one thing I do not understand: how did you escape from the mill without Bernarde seeing?’

Quenhyth looked at Michael. ‘I need absolution. Will you hear my confession?’

Michael nodded, and indicated that Bartholomew should leave. The monk was busy for a long time, and the physician began to wonder what other crimes Quenhyth had on his conscience. He went to the fallen tree in the orchard and sat, waiting for Michael to come and tell him it was all over.

He thought about the people who had died, and why. Bottisham had perished because he was willing to extend the hand of peace to a dying enemy. Bess had died because she guessed her man had been left to freeze in the winter snows, and Bosel because he had attempted to blackmail a killer. Deschalers had been murdered because he had rescinded on a promise to give Quenhyth a chest and because Bess had confided her secret to him — and because a madwoman had borne such a close resemblance to the lady he had loved that he had been prepared to listen to her. Warde had been dispatched because Quenhyth intended to teach Rougham a lesson. And Bernarde had been incinerated because Quenhyth wanted Lavenham and his workshop destroyed.