The Murders of Richard III Read Online Free PDF Page A

her, they knew each other too well for that. “We start on Friday with a dinner at Dick’s place; after dinner we’ll hear papers, have discussions, the way they do at the scholarly society meetings. More lectures, etcetera, on Saturday. Saturday night we’re having our big banquet and ball. The Sunday afternoon meeting is when Dick is producing the letter. God, they’ve invited the BBC, and I understand half the papers in England are sending reporters.Not because the find is important, you understand; they just want to see a bunch of nuts making a spectacle of themselves.”
    â€œIt sounds rather dull.”
    â€œWell…”
    â€œAh! Come clean, Thomas. You are going to reenact the Battle of Bosworth. Only this time Richard wins?”
    â€œThat’s an idea,” said Thomas interestedly. “History as it should have been. I’ll have to propose that some time.”
    â€œThomas.”
    Thomas came as near to squirming as a dignified adult male can come. “We—er—dress up,” he said reluctantly. “In costume of the period.”
    â€œIndeed.”
    â€œYou don’t have to, it’s optional. And then we—well, we take parts. Various historical characters.”
    He looked at Jacqueline and saw with regret, but without surprise, that her green eyes were sparkling. Her mouth was fixed in a line of exaggerated composure.
    â€œReally, Thomas? What fun! And who are you, darling?”
    â€œClarence.”
    â€œRichard’s brother, the Duke of Clarence? The one who was drowned…”
    â€œYes, that one. Really, Jacqueline, for a womanof your age and supposed refinement, you have the most raucous laugh.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” Jacqueline wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. “I had a sudden mental picture of you, head down in—”
    â€œThat story about the butt of malmsey is ridiculous! Can you imagine anyone drowning an enemy in a barrel of wine? It would ruin the wine, for one thing.” Thomas grinned unwillingly. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not going to dive into a barrel with my feet kicking in the air just to entertain you.”
    He was to remember this statement later as a particularly dazzling example of “famous last words.”

2
    T HOMAS HAD TOMATO ON HIS TIE.
    â€œI’m getting tomato on my tie,” he said.
    â€œLean forward and drip on the floor,” Jacqueline advised.
    She was also eating an egg-tomato-and-cucumber sandwich. Thomas was irked to see that there wasn’t a spot on her snowy-white pants suit.
    He followed her advice and her example. At least there was no one to see the ridiculous picture he made. They were sitting side by side in the front row of seats on the top of the double-decker bus. There were only two other passengers on this level; both were local people, far at the back, and superbly disinterested in the foreigners up front. An occasional bird or squirrel in the leafy branches that brushed past the windows might be observing his graceless posture, but they were probably equally disinterested.
    Thomas dabbed at the spot on his maroon tie. Itbothered him more than it ought to have done, and this fact made him wonder, in his introspective fashion, whether he was as indifferent to worldly concerns as a scholar ought to be. He had been only mildly vexed when Jacqueline insisted on traveling into Yorkshire by local bus; he was undisturbed at the idea of disembarking from one of the lumbering green monsters, along with a crowd of yokels, at the gates of his titled host’s country residence. At least his conscious mind was undisturbed. Then why, he asked himself, had he been relieved when Sir Richard suggested that they disembark in the next village but one, where they would be met by Sir Richard’s chauffeur? Why did he hope the bus would be early and Jenkins would be late with the car? He had encountered Jenkins before, and the thought