The Butchers Funeral: A Medieval Murder by C. M. Harald Read Free Book Online Page B

was polite and controlled, with his short and stocky build he could easily have been a great deal blunter.  Bearing the scars of uncountable tavern fights, the constable was built so solidly a blacksmith would have thought twice about taking him on.  He had three assistants with him, equally menacing, but also all taller.
    'Getting up.' Donald slurred as he rose to his feet, the hands adjusted their grip but did not let go.  Through a combination of staggering and manhandling, they left the tavern, going around the corner so a more private chat could occur.  The bystanders in the tavern stayed put, interested, but knowing that it was unwise to mess with the city constable when he was about his work.
    'We'd like to have a word with you about Col Butcher and his recent demise.'  The constable asked.
    'What about him?'  Alvin was slowly gathering his wits, but could not resist some sarcasm, 'Do you want me to check if he's dead?  You'll have to dig him up first.'
    'Were you treating him when he died?' The question was asked in a calm tone, the constable ignoring Alvin's attitude.
    'Yes, everyone knows that.'
    'What were you treating him for?'
    'His wife summoned me when he came home late at night, confused and sick.  I checked him over to see if there was any help I could give.' He paused to think about it, 'I wasn't much use as there was nothing that needed sawing and I can't do much else with potions.  I was on my way back the next morning when I heard that Col died during the night.'
    'So you didn't give him anything or treat him in any particular way?'
    'Only what you would do for drunkenness and to check that he had not done any real damage to himself.  I was concerned about getting his humours back in balance and purged him a little.  He was out of sorts and I thought he may have hit his head while drunk.'
    The constable gave him a knowing look, 'You see, we have a witness that says you gave him some sort of potion.'  There was a pause while the constable studied Alvin's reaction, 'Might it have been something to make him worse?'
    The risk he was running suddenly became clear to Alvin.  He sobered in seconds, but on the surface maintained the appearance of drunkenness.  It would be his word against someone else if he was formally accused and he had to convince the constable of his innocence, quickly and before the matter progressed to such a level.  Everything was balanced on his reputation and the nature of the accusation against him.  Was it Dye who had sold him out about the sleeping potion?  Perhaps to save her own skin?
    'No, I gave him nothing.'  He trusted Dye to keep to their agreed story, it must have been someone else.
    'Not even something that his wife could use to poison her husband?'  The line of questioning was getting uncomfortably close to the truth.
    'Why would I do that?"
    'Well,' the constable paused as if thinking it over, 'perhaps you thought that the two of you could be rid of her husband, making the way open for you?  Or maybe, the two of you were involved with some of that shady business that Col always used to indulge in and you delivered poison on behalf of one of his rivals?'
    'I did not such thing,' Alvin did not need to pretend to be indignant at the accusations, 'I'm a healer, not a murderer.'
    'People become many different things when love is involved.  It was said that you used belladonna.  Isn't that the plant that the Devil himself tends every night?' 
    The constable let a silence descend, hoping that the surgeon would incriminate himself, but Alvin did not reveal anything, nor was he going to respond to the foolish and mystical interpretations that some placed on his skills and knowledge.  Eventually the constable broke the silence, 'Fortunately for you, there are many people who would vouch for your good character.  So, as you say there was no funny business, that holds a lot more weight than the accusations of an apprentice.'
    'So I'm free to go?' Alvin could