Bartholomew grabbed something and pushed it into Jonstan's face. It was a bloodstained hose. 'What is this?' he snarled.
Jonstan's face was an unhealthy colour. 'I cut myself,' he said. 'I was going to wash that this afternoon.'
'Show me where you cut yourself, Master Jonstan,' said Bartholomew, clenching his fists to stop them from grabbing the Proctor by the throat.
'I will do no such thing. I am a Proctor of the University and you are under my jurisdiction. Brother, take your colleague back to his College and lock him away where he can do no more harm,' said Jonstan, pushing Michael towards Bartholomew.
Bartholomew wrenched the doors open on another cupboard and rummaged inside. He held up an assortment of women's shoes. The victims Bartholomew had seen had their shoes removed so that the little circle could be painted on their feet.
'Where did you get these?' he demanded, hurling one at Jonstan.
'They belong to my mother, not that it is any of your business,' said Jonstan.
Bartholomew continued his prowling and bent to retrieve another article of clothing from where it had been hurled into a corner. He held it up so that Michael and Tulyet could see the huge dark blotches that stained Jonstan's tabard.
'I told you I cut myself,' said Jonstan. 'You go too far, Doctor. Leave my house at once!'
'Show me the cut that produced this much blood, and I will leave,' said Bartholomew.
Tulyet looked from the bloodstained tabard to Jonstan and began to move towards him. Jonstan made a sudden dive into the scullery, slamming the door closed, locking Michael and Tulyet in the kitchen. He turned to Bartholomew and brandished a knife coated thickly with clotting blood. He lunged towards Bartholomew, who countered his blow with a small stool he had grabbed.
One of the legs bounced to the floor and Bartholomew began to back away.
'Harlot-lover! 'Jonstan hissed. 'I knowhowyou visit that filthy Matilde, and I know how you secreted the ditcher's daughter away, thinking to keep her from me!'
A great crash shook the kitchen door as Michael and Tulyet began to batter it down. Jonstan ignored it.
'My mother warned me about men who go with whores,' he said, limping closer to Bartholomew. 'And she told me the Death would come again as long as we did not learn from our sins and continued to allow the whores to roam.'
There was another crash from the kitchen door.
Jonstan darted forward and made a feint to his right with the knife. Bartholomew swung wildly with the stool, and remembered that Jonstan was well trained in hand-to-hand fighting. He was not a Proctor, prowling the streets at night for miscreant scholars, for nothing.
He had doubtless wrestled many a reluctant student back to his lodgings. Before he realised what was happening, Bartholomew felt one arm bent painfully behind him and saw the knife flash at the same time that there was a third crash from the locked door. He saw the hinges begin to give, as he squirmed sideways using every ounce of his strength. Jonstan's knife stabbed harmlessly into his bag. Jonstan wrenched it free but did not relinquish his hold on Bartholomew's arm.
As the door flung open, Jonstan calmly held the knife to Bartholomew's throat and smiled at Michael and Tulyet. They stopped dead. Bartholomew began to struggle, but Jonstan merely pressed the knife more firmly to his throat.
'This is a sharp knife, gentlemen,' he said. 'I have reason to know.'
'Let him go, Alric,' said Michael softly. 'You cannot escape now.'
'He is a lover of whores,' said Jonstan again. 'And that is not appropriate behaviour for a scholar. I am a Proctor and it is my duty to see that he does not do it again. My mother would not be pleased to hear that I had let him escape.'
'Your mother is dead,' said Michael, He began to move towards Jonstan, but stopped as he lifted the knife, preparing to strike.
'Stay back! My mother is upstairs. She will come down soon to see what all this noise is about. She will not be pleased to see what you have done to her door.'
Bartholomew felt Jonstan grip him tighter still. He saw that Jonstan was sufficiently unbalanced that if Michael or Tulyet made a move towards him, he would not hesitate to kill. Gritting his teeth against the ache in his arm, Bartholomew began to undo the strap on his medical bag. -.'Why did you kill all those women?' asked Tulyet, seeing what Bartholomew was doing and trying to buy him time.
'My mother told me to,'Jonstan replied.
'That is not possible,' said Tulyet. 'Your mother died before the first of your victims was killed.' 'I told you, she is upstairs,' said Jonstan with exaggerated patience.
Bartholomew had his hand inside the bag and began to feel around.
'Were you a member of one of the guilds?' asked Michael, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Jonstan's face so he would not betray what Bartholomew was doing.
'It is against the University regulations to be in a guild,' said Jonstan. 'And I most certainly was not a member of a coven.'
'But what about the Guild of the Holy Trinity?' asked Michael. Then like Richard Harling believe as you do that continued sin will bring about a return of the Death.'
Bartholomew had what he wanted and was struggling to open the packet with out making it rustle. Jonstan made a dismissive gesture at Michael, who licked dry lips.
'If you were not a member of the covens, why did you kill Sybilla before new moon as the high priest demanded?' he asked.
'I did nothing of the kind,' said Jonstan. 'It was time for another whore to die — one every ten days so they will all be gone before Christmas — and that is why she died, not because that raving maniac in the mask told me to do it.' He took the knife away from Bartholomew's throat but put it back again when Tulyet made a move forward.
Jonstan continued matter-of-factly. 'I killed them because my mother did not like whores patrolling the streets outside her home. You must appreciate that the Death will return if we do not take steps to eradicate evil from our land. We have been warned, and God will send another plague to destroy us if we continue to sin.'
'Why did you draw a circle on the feet of the victims?' asked Tulyet, seeing beads of sweat breaking out on Jonstan's face, and desperately trying to keep him talking.
'Because that was the sign one of the guilds used: a fallen halo. A sign that represented evil seemed an appropriate mark for evil women,' said Jonstan. He gave a short chuckle and began to move the knife.
'Matt!' yelled Michael, leaping forward. Bartholomew hurled the contents of his hand backwards into Jonstan's face, and struggled free as the Proctor fell back, choking and flailing wildly. As the powder began to burn jonstan's eyes, he dropped the knife and began to cry out, covering his face with his hands. Bartholomew staggered back, while Tulyet kicked the knife out of reach and pushed Jonstan up against the wall.
'I cannot see!'Jonstan cried, struggling to wrench his arms from Tulyet to rub at his eyes.
'Neither can Sybilla!' said Bartholomew quietly, as he left the house.
Later that day, after they had spoken again to de Wetherset and had made formal statements to Tulyet, Bartholomew and Michael sat on the fallen tree next to the wall of the orchard, watching the sun sink down behind the trees. There was a haze of insects in the air, but it was quiet in the orchard, and Bartholomew did not want to answer any more questions that day.
He stretched his legs out in front of him and folded his arms across his chest. Next to him Michael fidgeted to get comfortable as he leaned back.
'So,' Michael said. 'Jonstan acted alone in the murder of the women. He claimed his first victim the day that his mother died, selected a prostitute randomly every ten days or so, and intended to continue so that the town would be free of them by Christmas. He was wholly unconnected with the guilds and selected one of their symbols only because it represented evil to him, in much the same way that the poor prostitutes did.'
Bartholomew was silent. Jonstan's mad claims had so unsettled him that he had asked Michael to return to Jonstan's house, just to make certain that there were no ancient mother still living upstairs as Jonstan had maintained. Michael had found no mother, but had found her room laid out as though she would return at any moment to use it.
