‘De Lisle will not favour you for long if you bray about his youthful indiscretions,’ said Michael icily. ‘He is ambitious, and will not let a “nephew” stand in his way. So, behave yourself – unless you want to be branded a bastard, and prevented from holding any sort of office in the Church.’
Tetford turned sullen. ‘You are a tedious man. Uncle said you were fun, but I do not think I shall invite you to my alehouse of an evening. You can go somewhere boring and respectable instead, like the Swan.’
Michael tried not to gape. ‘You run a hostelry?’
‘The Tavern in the Close. It is a lively place, only ever frequented by clerics – and the occasional lady, of course. Gynewell and the dean keep trying to close it down, but they will never succeed. People enjoy it too much, even the dean, on occasion. Everyone needs fun from time to time.’
‘You have until next Sunday to mend your ways,’ said Michael, struggling to regain his composure. ‘You will shut the Tavern in the Close, resist female company, and decline strong drink. If you do not, I shall appoint another Vicar Choral. De Lisle will not object when he finds out why.’
‘He already knows my foibles, Brother,’ said Tetford smugly. ‘You and I can have a contest of wills if you like, but be warned that you will not win. You would do better concentrating on finding out who killed Aylmer. I assume Gynewell asked you to oblige him with an investigation? He told me at breakfast yesterday that he intended to do so.’
‘He told you?’ asked Michael in patent disbelief. ‘Why would he do that? He seems a decent man, and I do not see him wasting time in idle chatter with lowly Vicars Choral.’
Tetford did not seem offended by the insult, but his grin faded and his voice dropped to a murmur. ‘Do not tell my colleagues this, but I liked Aylmer – he was fun. So, I asked Gynewell what he planned to do about the murder. At the same time, I happened to mention what Uncle has told me about your investigative skills. You had better find Aylmer’s killer, Brother, or I will not be the only one disappointed.’
‘Is that so?’ asked Michael unmoved. ‘And who else will have me quaking in fear, pray? Gynewell certainly did not issue threats when he gave me this commission, and Bishop de Lisle is too far away to care whether I succeed or fail.’
‘I refer to Adam Miller. He and his Commonalty hold a lot of power in this town. You will not want to begin your new appointment by annoying them, and Aylmer was one of their number.’
‘Then how do you know they did not kill him?’ asked Michael. ‘A falling-out among thieves?’
‘They are not thieves,’ said Tetford, glancing quickly behind him, to see whether anyone had heard. ‘They call themselves merchants, so watch the name-calling, please. Langar sued the last man who referred to Miller as a felon, and the courts forced Kelby to pay an entire year’s profits to make reparation for the insult.’
‘Langar,’ mused Michael. ‘He is-’
‘I suppose you might have come across him, if you were in Cambridge two decades ago,’ interrupted Tetford before Michael could say what he knew. ‘He was a law-clerk at the castle there.’
Bartholomew was puzzled. ‘If I recall correctly, a clerk called Langar advised the Justice over the Shirlok case, and-’
Tetford flung out a hand to silence him, looking around in alarm. ‘Do not even whisper that name in Lincoln! Everyone knows that a man called Shirlok made untruthful allegations against Miller and some of his friends in Cambridge, and was hanged for it, but Miller is sensitive about the incident, even today. Not even his deadliest enemies dare mention it these days, and if you want to see your University again, I recommend you follow their example.’
‘We shall bear it in mind,’ said Michael coolly. ‘It was not the trial we were discussing, though: it was Langar. How did he come to leave his post with a Justice to work for a “merchant”?’
Tetford remained uneasy. ‘I was told the Justice died shortly after Miller’s acquittal, and Langar decided to enter private practice instead. He came to Lincoln, and is Miller’s legal adviser. Can we talk about something else?’
Michael turned to Bartholomew. ‘This is becoming very complicated. There are connections everywhere, and I cannot decide which are significant and which are irrelevant.’
Bartholomew was troubled. ‘This might be important, though. If Langar was involved in the Shirlok trial, then he knew Aylmer twenty years ago.’
Tetford was clearly unsettled by the discussion. ‘If you must ignore my advice, then at least keep your voices down. It is Friday, and the members of the Commonalty always come to light candles at about this time. Miller might hear you, and while I shall be more than happy to inherit your prebendal stall when he kills you, my uncle will be sorry to learn you dead and I do not want him upset.’
Michael glared. ‘I doubt someone like you will ever be installed as a canon. But time is wasting, and I have a lot to do today. I was told to come here for a fitting. Where are the vestments?’
