Tsobel's and Fritha's throats were slit; the others' were hacked.'
Stanmore looked at him distastefully. 'It is all much the same,' he said. 'And anyway, they all had bloody circles on their feet. It stands to reason de Belem would not kill his own daughter and whore. I wonder if he knows Gilbert is their killer.'
'He cannot,' said Bartholomew, 'or he would not have asked us to investigate. It was Gilbert as Janetta that warned us away from investigating — once in Primrose Alley and once in the churchyard; it was Gilbert who instructed Hesselwell to leave the head in Michael's room claiming it was the will of the high priest; and it was Gilbert who ordered Hesselwell to prepare the back gate of Michaelhouse with a substance that would burn. He knew we used the gate at night, and planned to set it alight as we emerged. Even if we were not killed or injured, we would have received another warning.
Meanwhile, de Belem discouraged us from looking into the guilds, but encouraged us to look elsewhere. He must believe the murders have nothing to do with his business.'
'But he is the high priest who said there would be another killing,' said Michael. 'He must know!'
Bartholomew was silent, trying to impose reason onto the muddle of facts. 'Well,' he began uncertainly, 'he knew Tulyet would not investigate Frances's death, because he was bound by de Belem's own blackmail note. If he wanted her killer found, he would have to ask others to investigate. He had Hesselwell walking the streets at night. He urged us to investigate, and then, at the meeting of the Guild of the Coming that night, he called on the murderer to strike again, hoping to draw him into the open. He received no note from the killer purporting to be from the Guild of the Holy Trinity.
That was a ruse to encourage us to help him, but to ensure we did not start by looking into the covens.'
'Perhaps he really does believe the killer is from the Guild of the Holy Trinity,' said Michael. If Gilbert had any sense he would encourage that belief to protect himself He shook himself. 'I am glad Gilbert and de Belem were lying to each other and misleading each other as they did to others,' he added.
Lucius scratched his head. 'All this makes sense, except for why Gilbert should assume his sister's identity.'
Bartholomew frowned. 'Buckley said de Belem was beginning to lose control of his mercenaries. He needed help. Gilbert could not risk entering Primrose Alley as himself, but he could control the mercenaries as Janetta, the mysterious woman who was the subject of so much speculation among the town's prostitutes.'
'And all so that de Belem could continue to maintain a monopoly over the dyeing business!' said Lucius, shaking his head.
Stanmore pursed his lips. 'That would be a most lucrative position to hold. He would have held sway over a vast region.' He twisted round to look out of the window. 'The sun shines,' he said, 'and we should be away before the day is gone.'
They thanked Lucius for his hospitality and went to where Tulyet was organising a convoy with the cart of prisoners in the middle. De Belem regarded them with a triumphant sneer, while Gilbert huddled in a corner looking frightened. Michael strode over to them.
'We have it reasoned out,' he said. 'We know Gilbert murdered his sister, then Froissart and his wife, and then Nicholas. We know that you hired the friar to steal the book. And we know that the covens were merely a front to hide the size of your business empire from prying eyes, and to ensure these poor people continued to work for you for pitiful wages.'
De Belem shrugged. 'You can think what you like, but you can prove nothing.'
'Taxes!' said Stanmore all of a sudden. 'Part of the reason you have kept the size of your business secret is that you are swindling the King out of his taxes!'
De Belem paled a little, but said nothing. Stanmore rubbed his hands together. 'Old Richard Tulyet has an eye for figures. We will petition the King that we be allowed to assess how much you have cheated him. I am sure he will be willing to let us look. Then the Sheriff will charge you with treason!' — 'Why did you kill your sister, Gilbert?' asked Bartholomew gently, hoping to coax with kindness what they might never learn by force.
'Do not deign to answer,' said de Belem harshly. 'They can prove nothing.'
'We can prove Gilbert killed Froissart,' said Michael.
'And he will hang. Is that what you wish, Gilbert, for you to hang while de Belem goes free?'
'She betrayed me,' said Gilbert in a small voice. De Belem made a lunge for him, but was held by two of Tulyet's men.
'Say nothing, you fool! I can hire lawyers who will make a mockery of their feeble reasonings.'
'Now you have no saffron, you have nothing. Tricks and lies will not work now.'
De Belem tried to struggle to his feet, but was held firmly by the soldiers. Gilbert ignored him and continued.
'I did not mean to kill her. The knife was in my hand.
I was angrier than I have ever been before, and the next thing I knew was that she was lying at my feet. I regret it bitterly. Nicholas seized his opportunity and escaped.'
He gave Bartholomew a weak smile. 'I heard you say to Master de Wetherset that Nicholas's coffin had been desecrated because it was meant to be found. You could not have been more wrong. It was never intended to be found. I tried hard to dissuade the Chancellor from excavating the grave, and moved the marker so that you would dig up another. But all failed, and she was exposed to prying eyes in the end. I did not want her to be reburied where she had been so defiled by that mask,' he said, casting a defiant look at de Belem. 'I buried her elsewhere. I will never tell you where because I do not want her disturbed again.'
Bartholomew hoped no one would ask. He had no wish to conduct more exhumations.
'And Froissart and Nicholas?'
Gilbert nodded. 'Marius Froissart came barging into my house when I was removing my beard. It was obvious from his face he knew who I was. He fled to the church.
I followed and told him I would kill his family unless he kept silent. I killed his wife, put about Froissart had murdered her, and killed him later that night. Nicholas was easier. He came to look atjanetta's body in the crypt, and I killed him there.'
'And why did you kill Frances?' Bartholomew asked.
'Frances?' whispered de Belem, the colour fleeing from his face.
'She knew too much,' said Gilbert. 'She was on her way to reveal all when I killed her.'
'You killed Frances?' whispered de Belem. 'My daughter?'
'Yes!' said Gilbert loudly. 'I killed her. I did it for the sake of the saffron. Believe me, Reginald, once that fox- faced friar knew about it, it would not have been a secret for long, and we would have lost everything.'
'How could you?' whispered de Belem. 'Why did you not tell me what she was doing? I could have spoken with her. She loved me!'
'Like Isobel?' asked Michael casually.
'Did you kill her too?' asked de Belem, his face grey.
'I did not,' said Gilbert. 'Although doubtless I will be accused of it. I did not touch the whores.'
'But you have already told us you killed Janetta and Frances!' said Stanmore.
Gilbert raised his manacled hands. 'But I did not kill the others. Perhaps de Belem did. It was he, who as high priest, called for another murder. How would he know if he were not the killer?'
De Belem looked away. 'Not I,' he said.
'Rubbish!' said Michael. 'Gilbert deliberately started the rumours that Froissart was the killer because the killer was him! He confessed to killing Frances, and she, like the others, had a circle on her foot.' 'I saw that mark on the others,' said Gilbert. 'I copied it. It was the high priest who killed the others.'
De Belem eyed him coldly. 'What anyone thinks matters nothing now that I know my daughter's murderer will hang.' He gave a soft laugh. 'I really thought it was the Guild of the Holy Trinity punishing me for my involvement with the covens. I did not imagine it would be a colleague! The reason I predicted another death was because it is time. Excluding Janetta, whom Gilbert killed, there has been a murder every ten days or so. The ten days since Isobel are almost up.'
'It does not matter which of you is the killer, you will both hang,' said Tulyet impatiently, and called to his men to start the journey back to the town. It was light, and time spent talking now was time wasted.
Bartholomew and Michael watched them go. 'Do you believe him?' asked Bartholomew.
Michael shook his head. 'I do not. De Belem is merely trying to confuse us. He lied to us in the garden of the
