Michael raised his eyebrows. ‘Why? She is too old for you, probably past childbearing age.’
Bartholomew gaped at him. ‘God’s teeth, Brother! I was not considering her in that way! I was actually thinking about something that happened a long time ago. It has been scratching at the back of my mind ever since we arrived, and I probably should have mentioned it before.’
Michael regarded him uneasily. ‘I do not like the sound of this. When you have failed to mention things in the past, the “oversight” has invariably caused me problems. For example, the time you neglected to reveal the presence of a woman in one of our Colleges. And look where that led us.’
Bartholomew grinned sheepishly. ‘It is nothing of that magnitude. It concerns Aylmer. When I examined his body yesterday, his face was familiar – that odd crease in his nose is distinctive – and I have been trying to recall where I might have seen it before. Then, during prime this morning, the memory surfaced suddenly. Do you remember what Suttone said about him – about his past?’
‘He mentioned a misunderstanding with a sheriff. The comment made Sabina smile. Is that what you meant?’
Bartholomew nodded. ‘Many years ago, my brother-in-law was ordered to act as juror for a series of trials at Cambridge castle. It was out of term, and I was home from Oxford with nothing to do, so I went with him. One of the cases involved a man called John Shirlok.’
‘Even I know about him,’ said Michael. ‘He turned “approver” – he named accomplices – but they were acquitted, and it was rumoured that he had simply supplied a list of people he did not like.’
‘Aylmer was one of them. I remember his nose among the ranks of the accused. So was Sabina.’
Michael stared at him. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. She was Sabina Godeknave then, which must have been the name of her first husband – she referred to herself as a widow at the trial. And I have a vague recollection of Nicholas Herl being there, too, gazing out of the window, bored. I cannot remember the names of everyone Shirlok accused, but I know there were ten in total: eight men and two women.’
Michael continued to stare as his own memory began to work. ‘You are right. The trial was a significant event because of the large number of people who were involved, and news of it even reached the ears of lowly novices at Ely. Nicholas Herl, John Aylmer and Sabina Godeknave were among the appellees. I cannot imagine why I did not make this connection.’
‘Why would you? It happened twenty years ago, and in a different city. There is nothing to link Cambridge-past to Lincoln-present, except some names in an ancient memory.’
Michael was mulling over the new information. ‘If Sabina Herl is Sabina Godeknave, then her first husband did not “die” – he was hanged for theft. Sabina was charged with the same crime, but was released for lack of evidence. At the abbey, we were astonished to learn she was later acquitted a second time. You said you remember some names, but not all. Who else do you recall?’
Bartholomew rubbed his chin. ‘Just two more. Shirlok gave them in Latin, in an attempt to lend weight to his claims, although his pronunciation was all but incomprehensible. They were Adam and Simon Molendinarius. As you know, a molendinarius is a miller.’
Michael’s jaw dropped as the myriad implications of that association rattled about in his mind. ‘Adam Miller! God’s blood, Matt! What is happening here?’
Bartholomew shrugged. ‘Probably nothing relevant to Aylmer’s murder. However, it appears that at least some of the people Shirlok accused decided to leave Cambridge, and make Lincoln their new home. The timing fits: the trial was twenty years ago, which was roughly the time Miller arrived here and began to take over the Commonalty.’
‘I am not sure about this,’ said Michael unhappily. ‘Why did they leave Cambridge at all?’
‘Probably because the sheriff would have been watching them too closely. I recall knowing, with absolute certainty, that the appellees were guilty, despite the verdict. They doubtless moved so they could continue their illegal activities without the eyes of the law on them.’
Michael scratched his tonsure. ‘It is possible, I suppose. So, of these ten villains, we know there were two Miller brothers, Aylmer, Sabina and Nicholas. There were five more.’
‘I have been wrestling with the matter ever since prime, but nothing has come to mind. I remember poor Shirlok, though. He was sentenced to hang, much to his surprise. The executioner had to do it immediately, because he was already well on his way to being drunk, and would have been totally incapable had it had been left any longer. Shirlok was dispatched within an hour of his trial.’
Michael shrugged. ‘He pleaded guilty, and hanging is the only sentence for self-confessed thieves. He cannot have expected any other outcome.’
‘He did, though, Brother. He thought naming the others would earn him a reprieve. He was even more astonished when he was convicted but his accomplices were allowed to walk free.’
