An Order for Death by Susanna Gregory Read Free Book Online Page A

plastered, so there are no footholds. And anyway,
     he was not a monkey, Brother.’
    Michael sighed in exasperation. ‘You are telling me that it was impossible for Faricius to have left your friary – more precisely,
     you are telling me that he did
not
leave your friary. But he was found in Milne Street at the height of the skirmish with the Dominicans. How do you explain
     that?’
    ‘It seems we cannot,’ said Lincolne, with a shrug that made him appear uncharacteristically helpless. ‘You will have to ask
     the Dominicans.’
    ‘You want me to enquire of the Dominicans how a Carmelite friar escaped from within your own walls without any of you knowing
     how he did it?’ asked Michael incredulously. ‘That would certainly provide them with a tale with which to amuse themselves
     at your expense!’
    Lincolne grimaced, uncomfortable with that notion. ‘Unpleasant though this may be for us, that is where your answer will lie,
     Brother.’
    Michael closed his eyes, and Bartholomew expected the monk to show a sudden display of temper, to try to frighten the Carmelites
     into telling him the truth. It was patently obvious that Lynne was hiding something, and that even if he had not actually
     lied, he had certainly not told the complete truth. Whether Lincolne and Horneby were also lying was unclear, although Bartholomew
     found he had taken a dislike to the fanatical Prior and his gap-toothednovice for their uncompromising belligerence. Their reaction to Faricius’s death seemed more akin to outrage that a crime
     had been committed against their Order, than grief for a man reputedly scholarly and peaceable.
    But Michael had had enough of the Carmelites. He nodded curtly, and left them to the business of laying out their colleague
     and of saying prayers for him. Bartholomew followed him out of the church, and then stood with him in the grassy churchyard,
     where the monk took several deep breaths to calm himself. Walcote, who came to report that the Dominicans were all safely
     locked in their friary, joined them and listened to Michael’s terse summary.
    ‘One of their number has been murdered,’ said Michael angrily. ‘You would think they would be only too happy to co-operate
     and provide us with the information we need to solve the crime.’
    ‘They probably thought they did, Brother,’ said Walcote soothingly.
    ‘They were hiding something,’ snapped Michael. ‘In the case of Lynne, I have never seen a more uncomfortable liar.’
    Bartholomew agreed. ‘Lynne was about as furtive a lad as I have ever encountered, but that does not mean to say he was concealing
     anything to do with Faricius’s curious absence from the friary.’
    ‘What do you think?’ demanded Michael of his Junior Proctor. ‘Why do you think the Carmelites would withhold information from
     me?’
    Walcote shrugged. ‘Something to do with this nominalism–realism debate, perhaps. It is possible that they intend to write
     further proclamations, and do not want the proctors to prevent them from doing so. It is also possible that
Lincolne
is telling the truth, but that Faricius’s
classmates
were prevaricating because they do not wish to speak ill of the dead.’
    Michael rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I suppose Faricius may have broken the rules and slipped out, and Lynne and Horneby
     do not want their Prior to think badly of him nowthat he is dead. But I am not convinced. Having spoken to Lynne, I think there is more to Faricius’s stabbing than a case
     of a lone Carmelite being stupid enough to walk into a gang of brawling Dominicans.’
    Bartholomew nodded slowly. ‘So, we agree that Lynne was lying – although we cannot be sure about Lincolne and Horneby.
Ergo
, there are two possibilities: either Lynne was lying of his own accord and was uncomfortable doing so in the presence of
     his Prior; or all three constructed some tale between them that Lynne was uneasy in telling.’
    ‘I am tempted to march right back in