– Stanmore disapproves of his apprentices frequenting taverns and had forbidden Thorpe to meet his cousin on pain of dismissal from his service. When Harper died on Stanmore’s premises, Thorpe was afraid he would be sacked for disobedience – or, worse, that he would be accused of his cousin’s murder. Thorpe described Harper’s quick, and seemingly painless, death to Grene, and Grene conceived the notion of revenge for them both.’
He rubbed his chin, and continued. ‘According to Philius, Grene was dying anyway, and had very little to lose. His death at the installation was not as painless as Thorpe had probably led him to believe it would be, but the rest of the plan went perfectly. Over the previous week, Grene made claims to three other Fellows that he was in fear of his life from Bingham, including to Father Eligius on the eve of his death. The scene was set: Grene died; Bingham was arrested for his murder; Grene was avenged for his defeat; and Rob had struck a blow against the College that he felt had wronged his father over the business of the false relic.’
Harling swallowed hard. ‘And this Rob Thorpe is just seventeen, you say? Yet he plotted all this murder and mayhem?’
Michael shrugged. ‘With Grene’s help. But perhaps he is not wholly without hope. Edith Stanmore told us he has been having nightmares over the last month or so, and all that time he spent in St Botolph’s Church – such as when we thought he had fled to his accomplice – must count for something. He was clearly suffering from remorse.’
‘But not enough to prevent him from attempting to murder the Countess,’ remarked Bartholomew, recalling Thorpe’s gloating expression when Edith and Stanmore had prevented Bartholomew from hauling him off to the Proctors’ cells after he had gone to inspect Egil’s mutilated corpse.
Harling was silent, shaking his head slowly and looking down at his ink-stained table. ‘What bitterness,’ he said at last. ‘I, too, lost an election, but it never occurred to me to poison myself so that Tynkell would be blamed for my murder.’
‘But you are not fatally ill,’ Bartholomew pointed out.
Harling began to speak again before Bartholomew could moderate his remark so it did not sound as if he believed Harling might well have conceived such a plan given the right conditions.
‘So circumstances were simply opportune,’ mused the Vice-Chancellor. ‘The poisoned wine coming into Thorpe’s possession merely provided Grene with an opportunity for revenge that he had been considering for some time.’
‘So it would seem,’ said Michael, standing and walking to the window. ‘And it might have worked, had Thorpe left the town quietly after the installation as he had promised Grene he would. But Bingham’s arrest was not enough for him. He decided to commit one last act of vengeance before leaving Cambridge to join his father in York.’
‘The Countess?’ asked Harling.
Michael nodded. ‘But by this stage he had no more of Sacks’s wine left: one of his bottles had killed his cousin and then been stolen by Isaac; the other he had used to kill Grene.’ He gestured that Bartholomew should continue.
‘Father Philius’s medical notes showed that he had prescribed a powerful opiate for Grene to use should the pain of his illness become too great. Thorpe confessed to Michael that he took this from Grene’s room after the installation. He then mixed all of it with the wine he planned to serve the Countess when she visited Valence Marie.’
‘So this was premeditated,’ said Harling sadly. ‘Thorpe planned to murder the Countess as long ago as last Saturday.’
Michael nodded. ‘I imagine he was encouraged by the ease with which he helped Grene to his death, and so decided to try it once again. And his reason, of course, was that by murdering Valence Marie’s benefactor, he would assure the College’s dissolution. His bag was already packed so that he could flee the moment he saw the Countess swallow the wine. He was appalled when Eligius drank it, and probably anticipated that he would keel over immediately.’
‘And he did not?’ asked Harling. ‘Not like Grene?’
‘No,’ answered Bartholomew. ‘This opiate is slower acting and less dramatic than the poison in the wine Sacks sold him. By the time we realised there was something wrong, it was too late to do anything to save Eligius. He had fallen into a deep sleep and could not be roused. His breathing grew shallower and slower until it stopped completely; he died about an hour ago.’
‘So Eligius’s faith in Grene’s claims and his belief in Bingham’s guilt, brought about his own death?’ asked Harling.
‘I suppose it might be viewed like that,’ said Michael. He sat back down on the wall bench so heavily that Bartholomew was forced to grab the table lest he be catapulted from the other end. ‘But let us not forget the role the relic played in all this.’
‘Ah, yes. The relic,’ said Harling heavily. ‘I wish to God that foul thing had never been found. It has been nothing but trouble ever since it emerged from the foul black mud of the King’s Ditch. If I were Chancellor, I would throw it back, where it can do no more harm.’
‘Eligius was convinced that the relic was genuine – as was Grene,’ said Michael. ‘Bingham, on the other hand, has the sense to see it for what it really is – a monstrous fraud foisted on the town by an evil man. Part of Eligius’s conviction that Bingham killed Grene stemmed from that, despite the fact that it was an illogical conclusion to draw.’
‘Even great minds like Eligius’s can be confounded when it comes to matters of faith,’ said Harling. ‘He told Chancellor Tynkell and me that he sensed an aura of holiness emanating from the relic, and that its purity and goodness touched his soul. It is difficult to argue with someone who has convictions like that.’
Bartholomew recalled Eligius standing with him and Michael as they inspected Grene’s body, and the fleeting expression of remorse that had crossed his face. It was not simply faith in Grene’s claims nor belief in Bingham’s guilt, nor even his total conviction that the relic was holy, that had prompted him to drink the Countess’s wine: it was his own troubled conscience – that Grene had come to him with his fears and he had done nothing about them. Bartholomew was sure that Eligius held himself responsible for Grene’s death, which explained why he had initiated his own quest to have Bingham indicted of his murder. He had even gone to the Sheriff and made out a case for Bingham’s arrest, because he felt he could not wait for the Senior Proctor to return from dealing with the burglary at St Clement’s Hostel.
Harling sighed. ‘I am certain poor Master Thorpe knows nothing of his son’s plans for revenge,’ he said. ‘There is some talk that the King has regretted his hasty decision in removing Thorpe from the Mastership, and is considering reinstating him. He will be aghast when he hears what his son has done.’
Bartholomew felt sick at the futility of it all. ‘Please do not tell Edith Master Thorpe might be reinstated. All this is hard enough for her to accept without the knowledge that Rob’s drive to avenge his father’s unjust treatment was all for nothing.’
Harling and Michael were silent, so that Bartholomew wondered whether his request had already come too late. For all he knew, Master Thorpe was already riding south to reclaim his post as head of Valence Marie.
Michael stretched his legs out in front of him. ‘So, Rob Thorpe is lodged in the Proctors’ gaol, the Countess is safe, and Bingham is freed from his cell in the castle. But we still do not know how Sacks came by this poisonous wine.’
‘We know it must be related to the smuggling in the Fens,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Hopefully, we will find out who was responsible when Tulyet arrests the contrabanders.’
‘And then there is still the missing bottle,’ said Michael. ‘Sacks had six and we only know what happened to five of them.’
‘Perhaps Thorpe had three, not two,’ said Harling, patting his greased hair with both hands.
‘I do not believe so,’ said Michael. ‘Or I imagine he would have used the last one on the Countess, instead of resorting to the unknown qualities of Grene’s medicine. I think we have yet to discover the fate of the sixth bottle.’
Chapter 10
