A Killer in Winter by Susanna Gregory Read Free Book Online Page B

dismissive gesture. ‘You are quibbling, Brother. My point is that a well-heeled thief would not choose
     St Michael’s when other places offer better potential. And you certainly cannot accuse Harysone of killing this man. He might
     have been here for hours before Harysone arrived – assuming Harysone entered at all, that is.’
    ‘Then you have some work to do,’ said Michael, indicating the body with a peremptory wave of his hand. ‘This fellowdied on University property, and his death must be investigated by me.’
    ‘You will have to find someone else to help,’ said Bartholomew wearily. ‘As I told you, I was up most of the last two nights
     with Dunstan, and I have already examined one corpse for you today.’
    ‘This cannot wait,’ said Michael sternly. ‘I need to know how this man died and whether someone – such as Harysone – gave
     him a helping hand to Paradise. You would not want a killer to evade justice just because you are chilly and had an interrupted
     night of sleep, would you?’
    With a long-suffering sigh, Bartholomew moved the robes away from the slight figure that nestled inside them. It would have
     been simple for the beggar to escape the enveloping folds had he wanted to do so, and Bartholomew supposed that he had wrapped
     them around himself in an attempt to be invisible and keep warm at the same time. It was a clever ploy, and would probably
     have ensured that he would not be evicted to spend the day – or night – outside.
    Bartholomew shivered and wondered whether he should experiment to see whether the particular angles of the cloth would reveal
     whether the man had wrapped them himself, or whether someone else had done it for him. But he was so cold that he could barely
     think, and he did not feel like inserting himself among the damp, smelly robes to assess the varying ways in which they might
     end up around him. Instead, he unravelled the folds and forced them to release their grisly burden. It did not take long,
     and he soon had the body resting on the floor.
    Trying not to rush, just because he wanted to return to Michaelhouse and huddle near the fire, he sat back on his heels and
     studied what lay in front of him. He realised that thicker clouds must have massed outside, because the church was so dark
     he could barely see the body, let alone examine it. Michael fetched the candle from the altar, but its cheap tallow did little
     to help, and its main contribution to the task was to release an oily, pungent odour thatcompeted valiantly with the stench of rotting cloth.
    Bartholomew leaned close to the corpse in a vain attempt to inspect it. The man had not been wealthy: his clothes were frayed,
     patched and woefully inadequate for the rigours of a Fenland winter. His hands were soft, however, and notably uncalloused,
     suggesting that his ill fortunes had not forced him into manual labour to earn his bread. One thumb was missing, but the wound
     had healed long ago, and Bartholomew supposed some ancient accident had robbed him of it.
    Satisfied he had learned all he could by looking, he began his physical examination, suspecting this would reveal little more
     and that he was lingering in the church for nothing. The corpse felt icy cold, but Bartholomew’s own hands were not much warmer,
     and he decided the temperature of the body would tell him little about when the man had died. Struggling to see, he checked
     quickly for wounds, then inspected the neck to see whether the man had been strangled. His brief examination revealed nothing.
     He stood, trying to rub the ache from his knees, and shrugged helplessly at Michael.
    ‘I do not know what killed him, Brother, but I am guessing it was the cold. I cannot tell you when, though. It is so chilly
     that the usual methods for estimating time of death – body coolness, stiffness, decay and so on – are useless. He might have
     crept in here this morning, but could equally as easily have been here for a couple