‘What about the students?’ said Patrick Coventry. ‘There are a great many boys below in the yard working themselves into a terror about the ghost.’
‘Let them,’ said Maister Kennedy callously, stooping to lift a book. ‘Peter of Spain. This is the library’s copy, with Duncan Bunch’s own notes in it. Plague take the boy, I’ve been wanting this for months. As well they never saw the brute,’ he added, ‘or they’d have kent it for Auld Mahoun himself.’
‘And what do we do with it?’ worried Maister Coventry, shaking out the satin doublet. ‘We canny keep a wolfhound when we’ve forbidden the students to keep dogs.’
‘Properly he belongs to William’s next kin,’ said Gil doubtfully, ‘but he must be fed and physicked before they can be here to claim him.’
‘That’s true. It seems to like you, Maister Cunningham. Would you take it? As regent with a duty for the late keeper,’ said the Second Regent formally, ‘I ask you to have a care to this animal until its right owner can be identified. Will that do?’
‘Admirably,’ said Gil, and grinned. The pup licked his hand with a long wet tongue. ‘Do you suppose Alys would give me some bread and milk for him, Pierre?’
‘And this,’ announced Maister Kennedy, practically gnashing his teeth, ‘is the library’s second copy, bound up with Laurence of Lindores’ commentary on the
Book of Suppositions.
I have been hunting for this for over a year!’
‘It was not the only treasure in his chamber,’ said Gil, setting several bundles on Maister Doby’s reading-desk.
‘So I perceive,’ said the Principal, eyeing them askance. ‘What are all these?’
‘Four books belonging to the library’ Gil indicated the little volumes. ‘Who is librarian just now, maister? Perhaps some change to the rules?’
‘I will recommend it. And these?’
‘Two more books, apparently William’s own. One belonging to the senior bachelor, Michael Douglas, which I will return to him. A green silk purse with a surprising amount of money, and some jewels.’ Gil unrolled the red cloth jerkin, to reveal the three elaborate brooches which he had pinned to the cloth.
‘He should certainly not have kept these in his chamber,’ said the Principal after a moment, ‘setting temptation in the way of his fellow students.’
‘Quite so. There are also two rings, which I stowed in the purse with the money, and these.’ He unrolled the jerkin further. ‘We can ask at the armourer where he got a pair of daggers like that, but I suspect it wasn’t in Glasgow.’
There was a high wailing sound from the antechamber.
‘What is that noise?’ asked the Principal, distracted.
Gil, aware he was going red, said, ‘It’s William’s dog. It’s taken a liking to me. Maister Mason was going to take it to his house to wait, but it’s reluctant to go with him.’
‘A dog? How could the laddie keep a dog in secret?’ asked Maister Doby, perplexed.
‘It may not have lived in his chamber,’ Gil speculated. ‘Maister, may I ask some questions?’ The older man inclined his head. ‘Can you suggest who might have been William’s enemy?’
‘Oh, no. Not to such an extent. Although he was clever he was not admired,’ admitted Maister Doby, ‘and he was not as popular as one might expect, but surely he had no enemies?’
‘Clearly he had one at least, as Maister Crawford said,’ said Gil. ‘Can you offer me any interpretation of his question at the Faculty meeting? That might lead us to his enemy.’
‘But it might also lead us to suspect unjustly someone who was in fact innocent.’
‘Maister,’ said Gil patiently, ‘the boy deserves justice. Moreover, the person who killed him needs the succour of Holy Kirk, to bring him to repentance and confession of his sin.’
‘That is true,’ agreed the Principal. He thought deeply for a short while, then sighed and said heavily, ‘I can shed no light on the suggestion of heresy, and I suspect you will not find anyone who will.’
‘Probably not,’ agreed Gil.
‘But I wondered if the charge of peculation might be a garbled recollection of something that happened when John Goldsmith was Principal.’ Maister Doby paused, and counted carefully, tapping his fingers on the edge of the desk. ‘Aye, in ’85. The college had borrowed money from old John Smyth, you remember him?’
‘My uncle has mentioned him. He was senior song-man at the cathedral, was he no?’
‘Quite so.’ The Principal glanced at his door. ‘That dog sounds to be in pain.’
‘It’ll stop greeting when it sees me,’ said Gil, embarrassed.
‘Then in God’s name have it in and silence it.’
Gil fetched the pup from the anteroom, where the mason gave it up with some relief, and returned to his seat with the creature, trying to repress its ecstatic embraces.
‘That’s a dog of breeding,’ Maister Doby remarked acutely, watching as it sat down at Gil’s feet and laid its head on his knee. ‘Someone will ken where he got it from. Where was I? Oh, aye, old John Smyth. Well, he wanted his money back, and Maister Goldsmith couldn’t just put his hand on it, and David Gray was Bursar at the time and catched in the midst of the ding-dong. I mind he was ill with the worry of it at the time. You follow me?’
‘I think so,’ said Gil with caution. ‘You are saying that there was a little trouble about money, and Maister David Gray was caught up in it.’
‘But without fault,’ said the Principal firmly. ‘I mind the whole thing. John Smyth got his money in the end, we had to borrow from the archdeacon to pay him, and one or two said David had mismanaged it, but they didny see the books, and I did, for I was Wardroper that year. In any case, Gilbert, David was at the high table with the Dean and me, he canny have throttled the boy.’
‘He was, wasn’t he,’ agreed Gil, recalling the way Maister Gray had sat staring into the flan-dish before him. ‘What were you eating up there, maister? Was it any better than what we got?’
‘I think Dean Elphinstone commended the spiced pork,’ said Maister Doby, ‘but to tell truth, Gilbert, I have no sense of taste these days. One stew is much like another. There was raisins in it, I can tell you that.’ He got to his feet. ‘I will lock these things away. Have you the inventory? Good. And signed by Nicholas and Patrick. Excellent. You were aye one to think of everything, Gilbert.’ He bent and held out a hand to the pup, which inspected it solemnly and administered a minuscule lick. ‘But we willny lock you away, treasure or no, eh? Take care of the brute, Gilbert. They eat like a student, at this age.’
The Principal turned to the door, as there came a tapping on the planks from the other side. He opened it, and a fond smile crossed his face.
‘Well, Billy? This is William Ross, Gilbert. He and his brother lodge at my house. What is it, Billy?’
‘If you please, maister,’ said William Ross, stepping confidently into the room and bobbing his head in a schoolboy’s bow, ‘Jaikie at the yett sent me to say there’s a bonnie young lady asking for Maister Cunningham.’
Jaikie the porter was blocking the vaulted tunnel to the yett, hands on hips, glaring red-faced and indignant at Gil and the mason as they approached. The wolfhound at Gil’s knee began to growl quietly, and he hushed it as the porter launched into aggressive speech.
‘Now, you ken the rules as well as me, Maister Cunningham! Even William Irvine never had a leman calling at the yett for him –’
Gil glanced over the man’s shoulder. At the far end of the tunnel Alys stood patiently in the street, her plaid drawn over her head against yet another pattering shower.
‘The lady,’ he said coldly, ‘is Maister Mason’s daughter, and it would have been common courtesy to ask her in out of the rain.’
The porter snorted in disbelief, but Maistre Pierre said, ‘It is indeed my daughter, and I am here to protect her from your lecherous students.’
Jaikie opened his mouth to comment, assessed the mason’s size and breadth of shoulder, and closed it again. As Maistre Pierre stepped past him into the tunnel he recovered somewhat and expostulated, with a puff of spirituous breath, ‘Ye canny bring a lassie in here just the same! It’s as much as my job’s worth if the heid yins catches ye here with her. And another thing – is that no William Irvine’s dog?’
Gil suppressed anger.
‘Let the lady past, if you please,’ he said, emphasizing the word. ‘She is here about the business I am conducting for the Principal and Dean Elphinstone.’ Whether it’s true or no, that ought to silence him, he thought.
Jaikie glowered at him, and finally stepped aside as Alys emerged from the tunnel on her father’s arm, bringing with her the feeling that the sun had come out again. Catching Gil’s eye she curtsied and said formally, ‘May I speak to you, Maister Cunningham? I have information which may be of value.’
Her father’s eyebrows went up and Jaikie gaped at her, but Gil, forewarned by her expression, replied in the same language, ‘Indeed yes, for I am sure your news will be worth hearing.’
‘That’s Latin!’ said Jaikie suspiciously. ‘How can a lassie ken Latin?’
‘Same way a student kens it,’ said Gil crisply. ‘Now stand aside, man.’
Biting his thumb and glowering, the porter stood aside and watched them. His mutter followed them across the courtyard.
‘I don’t know. Even William never had a leman at the yett, and he’d the half of Glasgow leaving messages for him.’ As they reached the door of the Bachelors’ Schule the mutter rose to a shout. ‘And is that dog to go back to Billy Dog now or no? He’s been asking for it.’
‘Gil, you must come to our house,’ said Alys, her hand on his arm. ‘Mistress Irvine is in great distress.’
‘Irvine,’ Gil said. He disengaged his arm and put it round her shoulders. The pup lay down firmly on his feet. ‘I should have thought.
How can I answer you, mother, When my schoolmates have me slain?
I take it she gave him her own name?’
‘Or her husband’s,’ said the mason, sitting down opposite them on another of the long hard benches. ‘That must be why the boy named her when he wrote his will.’
‘It has been more than a little trying,’ said Alys. ‘When Mistress Irvine found it was her foster-son who was dead –’
‘Did the McIans tell her?’ her father interrupted.
‘No, they had left by then. Kittock mentioned it, and then she ran out in the street –’
‘Tell us from the beginning,’ Gil said. He tightened his clasp on her shoulders, and she leaned a little against him.
‘The McIans came by the house,’ she said patiently. ‘The harper was a little upset, and wanted to ask after the baby. Mistress McIan told me about what happened – about the dead student, and how her brother knew where he was –’
‘Not exactly,’ Gil said. ‘He knew he was behind a locked door.’
‘Oh. They spoke to Mistress Irvine, too, to thank her for trying to get the bairn to eat, and then they left. It was only a little while ago that Kittock said something about the dead man in Mistress Irvine’s hearing, and repeated enough to make her sure it was her boy. She became very distressed.’
‘Poor woman,’ said her father sympathetically.
Alys threw him a glance, and nodded. ‘She ran out in the street, and found some people coming from the feast, still in their gowns and hoods, and asked them who was dead, and what happened. They told her his name, and that he had been throttled – is that right?’ Gil nodded. ‘It took several of us to get her back into the house. I sent to Greyfriars, and Father Francis is with her now. But the thing is, Gil, that I think she may have information for you. She has mentioned knowing the young man’s mother, and that money comes from the Montgomery estates for his keep.’
‘This could be valuable,’ Gil agreed, ‘but there are matters I must see to here before I can leave. Alys, what you could do for me if you will –’ She looked up hopefully. ‘– is take this animal home and feed him for me.’
‘If he will go with you,’ said the mason. ‘And I have a task for you also.’
‘Can’t I do anything else?’
‘Not yet.’ Gil smiled at her. ‘And the dog must be fed.’
‘Very well.’ She bent to offer the pup her hand to sniff. ‘He is a handsome dog – not like Didine at all, is he, father?’ As the mason grunted in agreement, she explained to Gil: ‘Catherine had a little dog when we came to Glasgow, a pop-eyed yappy creature. She died last year. This fellow is much more to my taste. What is his name?’
‘I have no idea. Probably Bran or Gelert or some such thing,’ said Gil disparagingly. ‘Everyone and his granny calls his wolfhound Bran. His head needs looked at, too.’
‘I see that.’ She stroked the rough flank, and the hairy tail beat twice on the floor. ‘Poor beast. And your task, father?’
The mason felt in his sleeve, and drew out the much-folded papers they had found in William’s purse.
‘See what you can make of that,’ he said, handing them to her. ‘The square one is in code.’
‘In code?’ She unfolded it carefully, and tilted it to the light. ‘Simple substitution,’ she said after a moment. ‘Look, here is the same group of letters, and here, and again here. I can decipher that,’ she finished confidently. ‘What about the other?’
‘Notes of some sort, transcribing the tablets.’ Gil held the little set out on his palm, and she glanced at it, and looked closer.
‘I saw those in Maister Webster’s shop,’ she said. ‘Yes, I am certain it’s the same set. I thought them too dear for something so small.’