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

there and shake the truth out of them,’ said Michael testily. ‘But that would only convince
     Lincolne that I am determined to divert blame from the Dominicans. I shall have to catch Lynne alone, and then we shall see
     how his lies stand up to some serious prodding.’
    ‘Was Faricius really the scholarly man they would have us believe?’ mused Bartholomew. ‘Or was he just like the rest of them
     – a lout in a habit spoiling for a fight?’
    ‘He was scholarly, right enough,’ said Walcote. ‘I told you earlier that he attended lectures and that I admired his thinking.’
    ‘You need to decide whether Faricius really did remain in the friary to read when the others went to watch Lincolne pin his
     proclamation to the church door, or whether Lynne has just been told to say he did,’ said Bartholomew to Michael.
    Michael smiled craftily. ‘I am glad you seem interested in this crime, Matt. You can help me solve it, as you have done before.’
    Bartholomew balked at this. ‘No, Brother! I am too busy to spend my time chasing murderers with you. And anyway, that is why
     you have a Junior Proctor.’
    Walcote shook his head. ‘The last week of Lent is always busy for us. The students are restless, and we are anticipating more
     trouble. It will be difficult for us to solve murders
and
keep peace in the town.’
    ‘And you are not busy at all, Matt,’ added Michael. ‘The first signs of spring have heartened people, so fewer of them are
     sick; it is coming up to Easter week, so we only teach in the mornings; and your treatise on fevers will never be finished.
     It is already longer than virtually everything written by Galen and you claim you are only just beginning.’
    ‘And you
did
find the body,’ Walcote pointed out.
    ‘I found an injured man,’ corrected Bartholomew. ‘But I can tell you nothing relevant. I asked who had stabbed him, but he
     was more concerned with the fact that he had lost his scrip than in telling me who had prematurely ended his life.’
    ‘Was that because he expected to recover?’ asked Michael. ‘Or because whatever was in his scrip was more important to him
     than seeing his killer brought to justice?’
    ‘I do not know, Brother. Dying people react in different ways. He may have been delirious. He had certainly swallowed a good
     deal of the laudanum I give to very ill patients, and that can cause people to say odd or irrelevant things.’
    ‘Pity,’ said Walcote. ‘If you had learned the name of the killer, you would not now be obliged to help us solve the crime.
     And I imagine it will take a while, because there are already questions regarding how it could have happened. I have the feeling
     this will transpire to be more complicated than a simple case of a Black Friar stabbing a White Friar during a riot.’
    ‘I agree,’ said Michael. ‘I feel it in my bones, and I am seldom wrong about such things.’
    Bartholomew looked from Michael to his deputy. ‘You two have been in Cambridge too long! You are looking for complex solutions
     when there is a very simple one staring you in the face. Have you never heard of Occam’s razor?’
    Walcote said approvingly, ‘Occam was a great man – a nominalist, like me.’
    ‘
You
are a nominalist?’ asked Michael, startled. ‘What has induced you to follow a ridiculous notion like that?’
    Walcote swallowed nervously, uncomfortable with Michael’sdisapproval. ‘It makes sense. It is a good way of looking at the universe.’
    ‘So is realism,’ countered Michael.
    Walcote immediately backed down in the way Bartholomew noted he always did when faced with serious opposition. It was an aspect
     of the Junior Proctor’s character that Bartholomew thought unappealing and Michael found aggravating. ‘I suppose it is. They
     both are.’
    ‘Actually, to be honest, I do not think one theory has any more to offer than the other,’ Michael went on pompously, also
     noting Walcote’s reluctance to stand up for what he