Free To Kill or Cure by Susanna Gregory Page A

Bartholomew worriedly. ‘I doubt his friends were at a town
     alehouse for peaceful reasons.’
    ‘That did cross my mind, Matt,’ said Michael dryly. ‘Especially as the other victim was a pot-boy from the Angel. We shall
     have to stop at Clare on our way home, to make sure no one is planning revenge. Then we must do the same with the Angel.’
    ‘I do not suppose they killed each other, did they? That would be a neat solution for you.’
    ‘The bodies were found near each other, so it is possible. I have certainly encouraged my beadles to tell everyone that is
     the case.’
    ‘But it may not be true.’
    Michael regarded him soberly. ‘No, it may not. However, I do not want more deaths on either side, and if a few timely lies
     can ease the tension, then I shall encourage them. Neither faction can justify a killing spree if both perpetrators are dead,
     and I must do all I can to avert strife.’
    ‘Yet you plan to investigate Lynton’s murder. That might ignite the situation.’
    ‘You said we should keep details of Lynton’s demise to ourselves.
Ergo
, no one will know I am investigating his murder, because no one will know he was murdered in the first place. It will require
     considerable skill to maintain discretion, but we can do it. We
must
do it.’
    They walked in silence, cutting down several nameless alleys, until Michael stopped outside a pair of timber-framed houses.
     Both were hostels, although such foundations came and went with such bewildering rapidity that it took Bartholomew a moment
     to recall their names. Piron was a large establishment, built on three floors with a cellar below for storage. Its smaller
     neighbour was Zachary, named for the nearby church. Their principals were Tyrington and Honynge, respectively.
    ‘I know we are desperate for another teacher,’ said Michael. ‘But I would rather be worked off my feet than appoint the wrong
     person – and I am not happy with either of these two.’
    ‘You should have made more of a fuss at the meeting, then,’ said Bartholomew tartly. He also thought his colleagues were making
     a mistake by opting to take whoever happened to be available, and was sure Carton would have been the better choice. ‘It is
     too late now.’
    ‘It is Honynge who is the problem,’ Michael went on. ‘Supposing he cheats us?’
    Bartholomew was startled. ‘There has never been any suggestion of dishonesty on his part, and you malign him unjustly. Besides,
     I have heard him in the debating hall, and he is impressive. He will improve Michaelhouse’s academic reputation, and that
     is what counts.’
    ‘You may not think so when he makes off with the College silver,’ warned Michael coolly.
    Bartholomew thought he was overreacting. ‘Do you want to visit him or Tyrington first?’
    ‘Tyrington. I am not ready for Honynge yet. Remember to stand well back when he speaks, and do not allow him to entice you
     into a scholarly disputation. We must make a start on this Lynton business as soon as possible, and have no time to waste
     on scholastic debates. Did you know both these houses are owned by Candelby?’
    Bartholomew shook his head. ‘I thought they belonged to Mayor Harleston.’
    ‘He sold them. As you know, the University compels landlords to keep any buildings rented by scholars in good repair. But
     Harleston said he would rather sell his properties than pay for their upkeep when the only people to benefit would be University
     men.’
    Bartholomew studied them. ‘Piron is well-maintained, and it looks as though the work has been carried out recently. Zachary
     is shabby, though. Why has Candelby spent money on one building, but neglected its neighbour?’
    Michael shrugged. ‘Who knows what a man like Candelby thinks? Still, Honynge and Tyrington will not have to worry about him
     in the future. They will be comfortably installed at Michaelhouse.’
    Their knock on Piron Hostel’s door was opened by a well-dressed youth who wore a heavy