Death of a Scholar by Susanna Gregory

Author:Susanna Gregory [Gregory, Susanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Historical, Thriller & Suspense, Historical fiction, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 0751549754
Publisher: Sphere
Published: 2014-06-04T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

Bartholomew worked in the kitchen until Agatha doused the lamp, obliging him to return to his own quarters. His students were asleep, and unwilling to wake them by lighting a candle, he retreated to the storeroom, where he read until his eyes burned with fatigue. When he closed them for a moment he fell into a deep drowse, and was difficult to wake when Michael came to collect him in the small hours. After several moments of futile shoulder-shaking and increasingly frustrated hisses, the monk solved the problem with a bucket of cold water.

‘What?’ Bartholomew demanded groggily, wiping the drops from his face. ‘Is someone ill?’

‘If they were, I would not want you tending them,’ whispered the monk waspishly. ‘I have never known a man sink so deeply into repose. You were smiling. Was it a pleasant dream?’

It had been. Julitta was in it, and so was Richard, back when he had been a sunny, likeable lad of fifteen. Matilde had made an appearance, too, armed with a heavy purse and announcing her intention to marry Bartholomew that afternoon. Annoyingly, Michael had hurled his water just as Richard was about to divulge a way to wed her and still keep Julitta.

‘What do you want, Brother? It is the middle of the night.’

‘Yes, and we have work to do. Surely you have not forgotten?’

Bartholomew struggled to rally his sluggish wits. ‘What work?’

‘Ratclyf. And depending on what you find, perhaps Elvesmere and Knyt, too.’

Bartholomew’s mind snapped into focus. ‘No, and I have already explained why. Call it superstitious nonsense if you will, but it felt very wrong.’

Michael scrubbed at his face, and Bartholomew noticed again how weary his friend looked. ‘You have allowed your imagination to run riot because Hemmysby was a friend. Well, Ratclyf was not, and as I said yesterday, your second victim should be easier than the first. Langelee agrees. Something very sinister is unfolding, and unless we have the full facts we may never catch the villain who has set it in motion.’

‘But what if people find out?’ asked Bartholomew worriedly.

‘No one will,’ said Michael impatiently. ‘We shall take precautions. Besides, think of your sister and her beloved Oswald. She will certainly want to know if there is a poisoner at large. You must do it for her sake.’

Bartholomew scowled: it was unfair to use Edith as a lever. ‘We will never know what happened to Oswald, regardless. Even if you found someone to dissect him – and I can tell you now that it will not be me – he has been in the ground too long.’

‘Please, Matt. I understand your reluctance, believe me. I even share it – I would much rather be asleep than helping you defile corpses – but we have no choice. We need answers.’

‘There must be another way to get them.’

‘Langelee and I sat for hours trying to think of one. Nothing came to mind.’

‘I shall be decried as a warlock for certain,’ grumbled Bartholomew.

‘We have until Monday before the blackmailer makes good on his threat,’ Michael went on, ‘which means we have until Monday to catch him.

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