‘He is a rascal, and if you were not so determined to believe that Matilde’s taste in men is impeccable, you would see it, too. He is cunning, with a mind like a trap, and the likes of you and I will never catch him out. Did you hear him denigrating Aylmer and Chapman? And they are his friends – fellow members of his Commonalty! If he is so vociferous against men who are on his side, I dread to think what his enemies must be obliged to endure from him!’
Bartholomew was bemused by the force of his convictions. ‘If you found him so objectionable, why did you spend so long in his company?’
Michael sniffed. ‘I wanted to get his measure, and I hoped he might let something slip about Matilde. He is too wily, though, and I was able to deduce nothing. Perhaps we will do better next time.’
‘Next time? You are prepared to see him again?’
‘I would give a good deal to see you content, even spending hours of my valuable time with a rat. Did you hear his excuse for throwing in his lot with that felon Miller?’ Michael’s voice became mincingly mocking. ‘“I wanted to maintain the balance between factions.” Who does he think he is dealing with, to imagine we would be fooled by such rubbish? He is a detestable, odious villain.’
‘He cannot be all bad, or Matilde would not have been his friend.’
‘She is not here, though, is she? Perhaps that is why she left: she found out what he is really like. The wretched man has information that may see you two reunited, and he will not share it, out of simple spite. I shall do all in my power to worm it out of him, but I am not overly hopeful. I suspect the only way we shall ever best him is by resorting to blackmail.’
‘Michael!’
‘Do you want Matilde or not? If she is worth spending months among the French, then she is worth digging around in Spayne’s dubious existence. I see you find it distasteful, so leave it to me. I shall find a way to make him part with his secrets.’
‘No,’ said Bartholomew forcefully. ‘You are to be made a canon a week tomorrow. You cannot risk your reputation by engaging in criminal activities. I will not let you. Not even for Matilde.’
‘Very well,’ said Michael stiffly. ‘I shall teach you how to do it yourself. But I do not want to discuss that villain any more tonight. Let us talk about what we have learned of Aylmer instead.’
Bartholomew tugged his mind away from Spayne. ‘He was a member of the Commonalty, and its leaders want his death avenged. And you have discovered that his association with Miller made him unpopular – along with his fondness for other people’s property. Even Spayne could not find a good word to say about him.’
Michael grimaced at the mention of the man he had taken against. ‘What do you think of Langar the Lawyer as the killer? Perhaps he was jealous, because Aylmer visited his lover Nicholas a lot.’
‘Sabina, who detests Langar and who would probably love to see him hang for murder, does not think so. Besides, Aylmer visited Nicholas’s house to see her, not Nicholas.’
Michael was sceptical. He sniffed. ‘So she says, but does she have any evidence to prove Langar’s innocence? No, she does not. And have you considered the possibility that Langar was jealous of Aylmer’s promotion to Vicar Choral, and decided to make sure he never enjoyed it?’
‘That would be self-defeating,’ argued Bartholomew. ‘Aylmer had been appointed to a place where he could watch the doings of the Commonalty’s enemies. Langar would never spoil an opportunity that would see his faction with an advantage over its rivals.’
‘Well, you can think what you like, but I am unwilling to eliminate Langar and his cronies just yet. They remain on my list of suspects for the murder, along with Spayne, who-’
‘Spayne?’ echoed Bartholomew in disbelief. ‘Now you really are allowing personal dislike to run riot. You would do better looking at the men who live in the place where Aylmer was killed, and who had ready access to him: the Gilbertines.’
‘They are certainly worth perusal,’ acknowledged Michael. ‘And Hamo’s alibi is especially dubious, because I spoke to the hospital inmates, and they are unable to say exactly when he arrived to say mass for them. He could well have stabbed Aylmer before attending to his religious duties.’
‘Meanwhile, Whatton is a quiet, unassuming fellow, and no one would notice if he escaped from the chapel. The building is always dark, there is a colossal amount of noise, and everyone is so transfixed by his alleluias that you could probably discharge a ribauld with no one any the wiser.’
Michael nodded. ‘And that conclusion means none of the Gilbertines have a solid alibi. The same can be said for Father Simon, who remains my prime suspect, because it was his cup Aylmer was holding when he died. Why would someone kill Aylmer but leave a valuable chalice with his body? It makes no sense.’
