A Killer in Winter Read Online Free PDF Page B

students,
     he turned and flapped large-knuckled hands at his flock, shooing them back inside the hostel. However, the death of a classmate
     was an interesting event, and Bartholomew noticed they did not go far. They hoveredout of sight, but within earshot, on the other side of the door.
    The physician turned his attention to Ailred. He had known the Franciscan for some years, and saw him almost daily, since
     Ovyng used St Michael’s Church for its offices, although neither had sought to develop the acquaintance beyond a nod and a
     polite word when their paths crossed. Ailred was tall, with an ugly, blunt face and a lot of yellowish white showing at the
     bottom of his eyes. His head was bald, except for a frizzy grey crescent that hugged the back of his skull. He had a reputation
     for sober, painstaking scholarship that was precise and rarely in error. Bartholomew also knew that he was from Lincoln, and
     that he never tired of making comparisons between his grand city and the squalor of Cambridge.
    ‘Norbert told me he was going to visit his uncle’s house,’ Ailred was saying, watching Tulyet nervously out of the corner
     of his eye as he addressed Michael. ‘When he did not return, I assumed he had found somewhere warmer and more comfortable
     than our hostel.’
    ‘When was this?’ asked Michael. ‘Last night?’
    ‘It was not,’ said Tulyet, shooting Ailred a cool glance of reproach. ‘I have just learned that Norbert has not been seen
     since Tuesday – the day before yesterday. I was not even aware that he was missing.’
    ‘Neither were we,’ objected Ailred miserably. ‘He often left and did not return for days. You know that. I used to report
     his absences, but you seemed as tired of hearing about them as I was of telling, and I thought we had reached a tacit agreement
     not to bother each other with his transgressions.’
    ‘I suppose we did,’ said Tulyet with a sigh. ‘But it is unfortunate he was not missed sooner. Then he might have been saved.’
    ‘It would have made no difference,’ said Bartholomew, kneeling to inspect the body. ‘Both injuries are fatal ones, and finding
     him sooner would not have changed the outcome.’
    ‘Both injuries?’ questioned Michael. ‘I only see a wound to his back.’
    Bartholomew parted Norbert’s hair, frozen like old fur, to reveal an indentation in the skull. ‘It looks as if he was stabbed
     and tried to run away – there is enough blood to suggest he did not die immediately and that he spent his last moments on
     the move. His assailant delivered the blow to the head when he reached the hostel door, although the knife wound would have
     killed him anyway.’
    Tulyet closed his eyes. ‘Horrible! It seems that whoever did this was determined that poor Norbert should die. But I suppose
     we should consider ourselves lucky to find the body today.’ He cast a mournful glance at the leaden sky. ‘More snow will fall
     this afternoon, and who knows when it will melt?’
    ‘I have never known such weather,’ agreed Ailred, obviously grateful to discuss something other than the awkward subject of
     the death of a student in his care. ‘I am certain winters were not so hard when I was a boy in the fair city of Lincoln.’
    ‘Who do you think did this?’ asked Michael of the friar, indicating the corpse with a nod of his head. ‘Norbert made a nuisance
     of himself with my beadles, and few regarded him as pleasant company – I am sorry, Dick, but it is true – but can you think
     of anyone who disliked him sufficiently to want him dead?’
    Ailred was startled. ‘Why are you asking me? It is obvious that Norbert visited some tavern, and his drunken tongue landed
     him in trouble with a townsman.’
    ‘That is not obvious at all,’ said Michael sharply. ‘And I shall be obliged if you keep those kind of thoughts to yourself,
     Father. We do not want the University rioting because it believes one of its number has been killed by an