anatomy is illegal in our country,’ addedAyera. ‘Or he would be waving entrails around to demonstrate his points.’
Usually, Bartholomew liked Ayera, a tall, intelligent geometrician who shared Langelee’s fondness for outdoor pursuits and
Bartholomew’s own love of teaching, but there were times when the man annoyed him. One was whenever the subject of anatomy
was raised – Ayera disapproved of it with a passion Bartholomew found difficult to fathom. And Thelnetham had a nasty habit
of encouraging Ayera’s irritating condemnation.
‘There is no “waving” of organs in anatomy,’ he snapped, unable to help himself. He had attended several dissections when
he had visited the universities in Padua and Salerno, and had been impressed by the precision and neatness of the art. ‘It
is all conducted with meticulous—’
‘You mean you have actually seen anatomy being performed?’ interrupted Thelnetham. He crossed himself, appalled.
Bartholomew had yet to gain Thelnetham’s measure, even though they had been acquainted for several months. He opened his mouth
to reply, but then was not sure what to say.
‘So what if he has?’ asked Langelee. ‘It is not illegal in foreign universities, and he has an enquiring mind. It is only
natural that he should make the most of what was on offer.’
Thelnetham sniffed. ‘Well, I do not want to hear about it, and I do not want to hear what he has to say about Drax, either.
If you will excuse me, Master, I would rather teach. At least one of us should, because I can see from here that our students
are throwing things around.’
As one, the Fellows looked towards the hall, where, sure enough, missiles were zipping past the windows. Langelee grimaced,
and started to stride towards them. Immediately,there was a scraping of benches and a rattle of feet on floorboards, and Bartholomew had no doubt that by the time the Master
arrived the students would be sitting, cherub-faced, in neat rows, and any sign of whatever they had been doing would have
been whisked away.
‘Well?’ asked Michael, when Ayera, Thelnetham, Suttone and Clippesby had followed their Master’s lead, and only he, Bartholomew
and William remained. ‘Explain.’
‘There is a puncture wound in Drax’s stomach.’ Bartholomew lifted the dead man’s tunic so they could see it. ‘It would have
bled profusely, yet there is very little blood where he lies. This suggests he died elsewhere, and his body was brought here
later. I can also tell you that he is cold and slightly stiff around the jaws, both of which suggest he has been dead for
several hours.’
‘Lord!’ muttered Michael, shocked. ‘Are you telling me that someone toted a corpse into our College and shoved it behind the
masons’ supplies?’
Bartholomew nodded. ‘I am not sure what to think about the culprit’s choice of hiding place. Was it because he knew it might
be several days before these tiles were uncovered – and Agatha’s assault was just bad luck? Was he hoping to implicate the
workmen? Or
are
the workmen to blame, and they had been planning to remove Drax to a more permanent resting place later?’
‘I do not like that Yffi,’ said William darkly. ‘He has the look of a killer about him. And I know these things, because
I
am a Franciscan friar.’
‘Never mind that,’ said Michael impatiently, unwilling to waste time on William’s odd remarks. He sighed. ‘We had better have
a word with these builders.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Although bringing a corpse here – especially to the area given over to their supplies –
was a rash thing to have done. Moreover, howdid the killer get it in here in the first place? Not
all
the workmen are likely to have been involved, while our students are always gazing out of the windows. How did the culprit
do it without being seen?’
Michael was thoughtful. ‘But our students were distracted, were they not? With
Usually, Bartholomew liked Ayera, a tall, intelligent geometrician who shared Langelee’s fondness for outdoor pursuits and
Bartholomew’s own love of teaching, but there were times when the man annoyed him. One was whenever the subject of anatomy
was raised – Ayera disapproved of it with a passion Bartholomew found difficult to fathom. And Thelnetham had a nasty habit
of encouraging Ayera’s irritating condemnation.
‘There is no “waving” of organs in anatomy,’ he snapped, unable to help himself. He had attended several dissections when
he had visited the universities in Padua and Salerno, and had been impressed by the precision and neatness of the art. ‘It
is all conducted with meticulous—’
‘You mean you have actually seen anatomy being performed?’ interrupted Thelnetham. He crossed himself, appalled.
Bartholomew had yet to gain Thelnetham’s measure, even though they had been acquainted for several months. He opened his mouth
to reply, but then was not sure what to say.
‘So what if he has?’ asked Langelee. ‘It is not illegal in foreign universities, and he has an enquiring mind. It is only
natural that he should make the most of what was on offer.’
Thelnetham sniffed. ‘Well, I do not want to hear about it, and I do not want to hear what he has to say about Drax, either.
If you will excuse me, Master, I would rather teach. At least one of us should, because I can see from here that our students
are throwing things around.’
As one, the Fellows looked towards the hall, where, sure enough, missiles were zipping past the windows. Langelee grimaced,
and started to stride towards them. Immediately,there was a scraping of benches and a rattle of feet on floorboards, and Bartholomew had no doubt that by the time the Master
arrived the students would be sitting, cherub-faced, in neat rows, and any sign of whatever they had been doing would have
been whisked away.
‘Well?’ asked Michael, when Ayera, Thelnetham, Suttone and Clippesby had followed their Master’s lead, and only he, Bartholomew
and William remained. ‘Explain.’
‘There is a puncture wound in Drax’s stomach.’ Bartholomew lifted the dead man’s tunic so they could see it. ‘It would have
bled profusely, yet there is very little blood where he lies. This suggests he died elsewhere, and his body was brought here
later. I can also tell you that he is cold and slightly stiff around the jaws, both of which suggest he has been dead for
several hours.’
‘Lord!’ muttered Michael, shocked. ‘Are you telling me that someone toted a corpse into our College and shoved it behind the
masons’ supplies?’
Bartholomew nodded. ‘I am not sure what to think about the culprit’s choice of hiding place. Was it because he knew it might
be several days before these tiles were uncovered – and Agatha’s assault was just bad luck? Was he hoping to implicate the
workmen? Or
are
the workmen to blame, and they had been planning to remove Drax to a more permanent resting place later?’
‘I do not like that Yffi,’ said William darkly. ‘He has the look of a killer about him. And I know these things, because
I
am a Franciscan friar.’
‘Never mind that,’ said Michael impatiently, unwilling to waste time on William’s odd remarks. He sighed. ‘We had better have
a word with these builders.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Bartholomew. ‘Although bringing a corpse here – especially to the area given over to their supplies –
was a rash thing to have done. Moreover, howdid the killer get it in here in the first place? Not
all
the workmen are likely to have been involved, while our students are always gazing out of the windows. How did the culprit
do it without being seen?’
Michael was thoughtful. ‘But our students were distracted, were they not? With
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