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here.’
    ‘Godric!’ whispered Ailred in exasperation, closing his eyes and giving them a hearty massage. He looked exhausted, as though
     the murder of his student had deprived him of sleep. Bartholomew wondered whether the friar’s tiredness derived from the fact
     that Norbert’s death represented a sizeable loss of income, or whether there were deeper, more sinister reasons for it. ‘When
     I said we should answer the Senior Proctor’s questions truthfully, I did not mean that you had to betray every one of Norbert’s
     misdemeanours.’
    ‘Betray away,’ said Michael, beaming at Godric. ‘Acatalogue of Norbert’s indiscretions may prove very useful.’
    ‘I do not see how,’ said Ailred. ‘But Godric is right about Norbert’s sleeping habits: he was not often found in his own bed.
     In fact, his repeated absences were one of the reasons why he was not missed for two days. He often stayed away – sometimes
     with whores, sometimes in taverns and sometimes at his uncle’s house.’
    ‘I knew he flouted the rules,’ said Michael. ‘But I did not realise he did so on such a regular basis. Why did you not tell
     me this before?’
    Ailred shot him a pained glance. ‘The fees paid by his family were important to us. We did not want him dismissed, although
     God knows he had no business here. As long as we kept him, the Tulyets would continue paying for his tuition.’
    The other Franciscans had been talking among themselves while the exchange between Ailred and Michael took place; now they
     seemed to have reached a consensus. They nodded encouragingly at Godric, who was evidently their spokesman.
    ‘Unfortunately, we have little to tell that will help you catch your culprit,’ he began apologetically. ‘Norbert was unfriendly,
     lazy and refused to comply with our rules. He made offensive remarks about our Order and he stole our ink and parchment. We
     think he took them in order to write to Dympna.’
    ‘Dympna?’ asked Michael, puzzled. ‘Who is he?’
    ‘She,’ corrected Godric. He glanced at his colleagues, suddenly unsure. ‘Well, we assume it was a she. She sent him notes,
     which we sometimes saw. She always asked him to meet her in the same place.’
    ‘I do not see how this is relevant,’ said Ailred impatiently. ‘Norbert liked women – ask any of the town’s whores – but I
     do not see how investigating a particular one will lead you to his killer.’
    ‘I am not so sure,’ said Michael thoughtfully. He turned to Godric. ‘When did this woman last write to Norbert?’
    Godric ignored the pained expression on his principal’s face. ‘He had a letter from her the evening he disappeared.’
    Ailred sighed. ‘This kind of speculation is dangerous, Godric. It may lead the good brother along the wrong road entirely,
     and cause him to waste time and effort.’
    Godric turned apologetically to Michael. ‘I am only trying to help. Dympna
did
send him a message that afternoon, and he
did
go out soon after he read it, but perhaps I should not have assumed the two were connected.’
    ‘Do you still have this letter?’ asked Michael. ‘It might help if we were to see it.’
    Godric shook his head. ‘He either took it with him or threw it away. We have searched his belongings, but it is not there
     – not that note or any of the others.’
    ‘Was this relationship with Dympna a recent affair?’ asked Michael. ‘Or one that had been going on for some time?’
    ‘I think recent,’ replied Godric. ‘We first saw a note about a week ago, but there could have been others before that.’ He
     smiled suddenly, so that his loutish face softened and became almost attractive. ‘You are wondering why we pried so unashamedly
     into Norbert’s personal life, Brother. Being friars, none of
us
receive notes from young ladies, and we were naturally curious about a man who does.’
    ‘Naturally,’ said Michael expressionlessly. ‘Did you meet this woman, or see Norbert with