The Habit of Murder

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It was the worst day of Richard de Badew’s life. Two decades before, he had founded a new College, which he had proudly named University Hall. It had started out as two cottages, but he had worked tirelessly on its behalf, and it now owned several large houses and a sizeable tract of land. Its membership had grown, too, from three Fellows to eighteen, and Badew ensured they were always paid on time even when it meant hardship for himself. University Hall had flourished under his watchful eye. Or so he had thought. Unfortunately, its Fellows disagreed.

He looked at them as they stood like peacocks in their ceremonial finery. All were young, greedy and ambitious, and thought they deserved the best of everything – a larger salary, a bigger library, newer rooms and smarter robes. Badew had done his best to oblige, but he was not a very rich man, and he had been forced to refuse some of their more outlandish demands. So what had they done? Gone behind his back to the wealthy Elizabeth de Burgh, known as the Lady of Clare, and asked her to take over the role of major benefactor instead.

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