The College of St Hilda and St Maurice crouched against the north side of the Close like a smaller, more ambitious barnacle attached to the cathedral’s flank. Its gateway, however, was anything but modest: a stone arch carved with saints and benefactors, and above it the arms of the College, with a Latin motto about light and learning which the porter probably could not translate.

The porter himself came out of his lodge as Lomas and Makepeace approached, rubbing his hands on his jacket. He was a square man with a reddened nose and the wary expression of someone accustomed to being shouted at by gentlemen.

“Good afternoon,” Lomas said. “Detective Inspector Lomas, Yorbridge CID, and Detective Sergeant Makepeace. We have an appointment of sorts with Dr Dyson.”

The porter&rs...

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