Free The Nicholas Feast by Pat McIntosh Page B

spoke.’
    ‘Ask his friends,’ said Maister Crawford.
    ‘He hinted at heresy and peculation,’ Gil said. ‘These are both matters of some importance. Could he have misinterpreted something?’
    ‘I have no idea,’ said the Dean again. ‘And the other question?’
    ‘I must ask this of everybody, you understand,’ Gil said. They watched him with varying expressions: Maister Gray wary, Maister Crawford still critical, the Principal with the intent look of a teacher with a good student, the Dean clearly formulating his answer already. ‘After the end of the play, where were you all before returning to the Fore Hall? And who was with you?’
    ‘Most of the senior members came here to the Principal’s house,’ said the Dean promptly. ‘The four of us now present, Maister Forsyth, Maister Coventry –’
    ‘Not Patrick Coventry,’ said the Principal. ‘He and Nicholas went over to the Arthurlie building. You were with them, Gilbert, were you not?’
    ‘We were here perhaps a quarter-hour,’ the Dean continued, ‘in this room or near it, standing or walking about, until Maister Shaw came to inform us that the procession was re-forming. Is that what you wish to know?’
    ‘Were you all within sight of one another for most of that time?’
    The four men exchanged glances, and nodded.
    ‘I should say we were,’ pronounced the Dean.
    ‘Would you swear to it if necessary?’
    There was another of those pauses.
    ‘I should swear to it,’ agreed the Dean.

 
Chapter Four
     
    ‘They were lying,’ said Maistre Pierre positively. ‘Oh, not about where they were, I think we can accept that, but they know more about the dead than they would tell us.’
    ‘I agree.’ Gil stopped in the inner courtyard, looking about him. ‘Maybe if I speak to them separately I’ll learn more. But before that we need to look at William’s chamber, which seems to be locked from what one of the boys said, and I think I want a look at the limehouse. We must also talk to those three senior bachelors, and to the two boys named as William’s friends, even if one of them is a Montgomery.’
    ‘Did you say you had ordered the yett shut?’ asked the mason.
    ‘Aye, and we’ll need to let it open soon. Once Maister Coventry has finished that list I asked him for, we can let folk go.’
    ‘Then do you go and inspect the limehouse and I will find out the young man’s chamber.’ Maistre Pierre looked about, and caught the eye of one of the numerous students who somehow happened to be crossing the courtyard. ‘You, my friend, may guide me! Where did your lamented fellow pursue his studies?’
    ‘Eh?’ said the boy.
    ‘William’s chamber, you clown!’ said the next student. ‘It’s in the Outer Close, maister. I’ll show you, will I?’
    Gil, retrieving the lantern from the coalhouse, lit the candle in it with the flint in his purse and unbarred the next door. Behind it was a similar vaulted chamber, unwindowed and smelling sharply and cleanly of limewash. Neatly ordered sacks were ranged against the walls, several wooden buckets and paintbrushes sat on a board near the door, and a fine sifting of white powder lay on everything. In it were displayed a great confusion of footprints, particularly immediately in front of the door. As Gil peered into the shadows, the light from the courtyard was cut off behind him.
    ‘The chamber is locked indeed,’ said the mason.
    ‘We ’ll find someone with a key.’ Gil stood aside so that the other man could see past him. ‘Look at this.’
    ‘But he was not here, was he?’
    ‘I don’t know about that. I thought one group of searchers expected to find him here.’ Gil stepped carefully in over the dusty floor. ‘These prints are theirs. No, look, Pierre, this is quite clear. Some large object has been put down here, in the centre of the floor, and then moved.’
    ‘I see,’ agreed Maistre Pierre, following him in. ‘But I can make no sense of the footprints. There are quite