A Summer of Discontent

Bartholomew believed him. He was certain that the lad would have grabbed any opportunity to escape the boring task he had been set, and would have come running had he heard the commotion when it was discovered that Thomas’s death had not been natural — unless, of course, he knew perfectly well the cause of the upheaval and elected to keep his distance from the scene of his crime.

‘Welles,’ said Michael. ‘Did you see him leave the infirmary before you went to the herb room?’

‘No,’ said Julian. ‘I went to the herb room first, while he poked about in the workshop looking for his basket. He was still searching for it when I closed the herb-room door.’

‘Has anyone else visited the infirmary today?’ asked Michael, exchanging a quick glance with Bartholomew. Welles, it seemed, should be questioned once again. ‘Did anyone, other than us, come to see Thomas?’

‘Doctor Bartholomew recommended that no visitors be allowed,’ said Julian. ‘But that is not to say that everyone would have obeyed him. As I said, my back was to the window, so I did not notice. But Thomas’s illness caused much interest in the priory — lots of folk wanted to look at him. Who knows who may have sneaked in while Henry dozed?’

‘Did you see Prior Alan come in?’ asked Bartholomew.

‘No!’ cried Julian, becoming exasperated. ‘How many more times must I tell you? I saw no one. The window is at an awkward angle for looking at either of the doors anyway — the main one leading from the Dark Cloister, or the back one.’

‘Someone could have entered through the rear door,’ suggested Henry. ‘It is well oiled, because I do not want creaks and groans disturbing my patients, so it would have been easy to slip in. Poor Thomas!’

‘All this does suggest that the killer is a monk,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Someone was aware that he had a very close call when Thomas was on the verge of telling what he knew, and that same someone was familiar with the layout of the infirmary, so he was able to kill Thomas without being seen or heard.’

‘Not necessarily,’ said Michael. ‘News of Thomas’s seizure and its implications spread through the city very quickly, and many Ely folk visit Henry in the infirmary. It is the one place in the priory that the townsfolk do know. Also, I think that a monk would have struck when Thomas was first taken ill. He would not have waited a day.’

‘But there was no opportunity to do that until this morning,’ said Bartholomew. ‘A monk — or someone else — could have been waiting hours for the best moment to strike.’

‘He did wait for the right moment,’ said Henry bitterly. ‘I had been sitting next to Thomas, holding his hand and praying for him. I whispered that I was just going to attend to some business, but that I would only be next door and would hear him if he wanted me.’

‘Perhaps the killer heard you saying that, too,’ mused Michael.

‘How could he?’ asked Henry in alarm. ‘Do you think he was hiding under the bed all that time? Or in a cupboard?’

‘No, but he may have been outside a window. The weather is hot, and all the shutters are open to allow a breeze to circulate. The killer could well have been crouching outside in the bushes, listening to you comforting Thomas, and biding his time.’

‘And then I basically announced to the fiend that I was leaving, and that he could kill Thomas at his leisure,’ said Henry in disgust. ‘How could I have been so foolish?’

‘You were not foolish,’ said Michael gently. ‘You just do not think like a killer — thank God! But the day is drawing on. Unfortunately, nothing you have told us throws any light on the killer’s identity, although at least we know how he managed to commit his crime unseen. So, I will go to ask Blanche and her household whether this is her cup, while Matt can question the old men.’

‘You should come with me,’ suggested Bartholomew. ‘They may have seen something, and you should hear what they have to say at first hand.’

Michael sighed when, without asking permission, Julian hurried away, presumably to take his nap. Henry came with them, trailing unhappily. Bartholomew supposed there was nothing they could say or do that would convince the physician that Thomas’s death was not his fault and that the sub-prior had been doomed as soon as he had indicated he was party to some dangerous information.

Three of the inmates seemed barely aware that they were alive, and turned blank eyes on Bartholomew when he spoke to them. One of them was also blind, and his opaque eyes could not make out the bed next to him, let alone identify a murderer slipping through the shadows. Meanwhile, Ynys was having a bad day, and imagined himself to be at the battle of Bannockburn, desperate to know if the rumours were true that the English had been routed by the Scots.

‘The Scots would never gain the better of an Englishman,’ declared Michael uncompromisingly, conveniently forgetting that the Scots had scored a significant victory over the armies of the English king some forty years previously.