Read Online Hugh Corbett 15 - The Waxman Murders by Paul Doherty - Free Book Online Page B

twinkling with amusement as he clasped Corbett’s hand.
    ‘I’ve heard of you, Sir Hugh. Your reputation precedes you.’
    ‘In what connection, sir?’
    ‘Oh, this and that.’ Desroches smiled. ‘I follow the affairs of the court most closely. One day I hope to obtain preferment there. Now this matter, it is heinous and hateful.’ He pushed back the chair and got to his feet. ‘Sir Hugh, all four were hanged. None of them resisted; there were no scuff marks, no signs of violence. And look at this.’
    He led Corbett out of the hall into the small porch. Two of the city guards were sitting on the stone bench just inside the doorway, intently watching a rat scrabble around in a wire-mesh cage, its sharp little claws pattering on an empty wooden platter.
    ‘When I arrived,’ Desroches explained, ‘I asked one of the guards to catch a rat. I put it in the cage, and mixed a platter of every scrap from the different dishes, then laced it with wine and water. Paulents and his family ate and drank the same. Look, there’s no ill effect.’
    ‘So they weren’t poisoned or drugged.’
    ‘Precisely,’ the physician agreed. ‘Nothing at all.’ He crouched down, staring at the rat, a fat brown rodent with curling tail and aggressive snout. ‘So far, no signs of any poisoning.’ Desroches rose to his feet. ‘I have used this method before. If food is tainted or poisoned, the rat will soon manifest symptoms, but not here. Indeed,’ he lifted a finger portentously, ‘some people even maintain that a rat can smell tainted food and will avoid it. That is certainly not the case here.’
    Corbett walked back into the hall. He stood just within the doorway, hands on his hips, and stared at the four corpses now hidden under blankets on the floor. He could make no sense of this. ‘Wendover,’ he called over his shoulder. The captain of the guard came hurrying up. ‘You were responsible for preparing Maubisson?’
    ‘Yes, my lord.’ Wendover agreed quickly. ‘We began yesterday morning. Everything was ready as you see it now: kitchen provisions, buttery stores, rooms furnished, the walls adorned with hangings, braziers filled ready to be fired, the hearth cleaned, everything Sir Walter wanted.’
    ‘And then what?’ Corbett asked.
    ‘We left early yesterday,’ Wendover replied. ‘Everyone withdrew. I personally checked every chamber. There was no one here. We all gathered at the gateway, waiting for Sir Walter’s guests to arrive. They did so around midday. Sir Walter himself brought them here.’
    ‘And then what?’
    ‘Monsieur Desroches visited them.’
    ‘Master Physician,’ Corbett called, ‘would you join us here?’
    Desroches walked over.
    ‘You met Paulents and his family here?’
    ‘Yes, that’s right, early in the afternoon. They complained of seasickness, of feeling hot and feverish. I didn’t know whether it was due to the dire conditions at sea or if they’d been infected by some contagion. I thought it best if they stayed here. Well,’ he amended, ‘Sir Walter and Paulents insisted on that, but they all seemed in good heart.’
    ‘They certainly recovered their appetites.’ Corbett gestured at the table. ‘They ate and drank well.’
    ‘As I said,’ Desroches smiled, ‘it may have just been the rigours of the journey. They seemed in good humour.’
    ‘And you noticed nothing untoward?’
    ‘Nothing at all,’ Desroches agreed. ‘I left shortly afterwards.’
    Corbett crossed to the mantled hearth and stared down at the smouldering fire. Here was a manor, he reflected, closely guarded, its entrance, curtain wall, even the courtyard within the enclosure, all locked and barred. Little wonder: Paulents had realised he was in danger; he had been warned and threatened. And yet in one evening, he and his family had been massacred.
    ‘Sir Walter,’ Corbett called over his shoulder, ‘you are sure nothing is missing?’
    ‘Nothing at all,’ the merchant replied.
    Corbett turned to