Read Online Murder by the Book by Susanna Gregory - Free Book Online

pupils all hope to be part of these discoveries, so they can claim a slice of the profits when they are sold. But to return to the bodies at Newe Inn, Weasenham told us that one had an arrow in its back, and—’
    ‘Weasenham!’ spat Michael in disgust. ‘Must he gossipabout
everything
? Of course, he probably did not know then that two of his scribes are among the victims.’
    ‘That will make three of his scriveners dead in a single day,’ said Edith. ‘Poor Ruth! She was distressed about Adam, but she will be heartbroken over the London brothers. She was fond of them, because her husband tended to curtail his rumour-mongering when they were to hand.’
    ‘So once again our town is plagued by killers,’ said Stanmore bleakly, placing a protective arm around his wife’s shoulders. ‘I cannot imagine what it is about Cambridge that attracts them.’
    ‘Matt has not inspected the bodies yet,’ warned Michael. ‘And until he does, we cannot say that murder—’
    ‘Of course they were murdered,’ interrupted Stanmore scornfully. ‘A man cannot shoot himself in the back with an arrow. Nor do four men choose the same spot in which to dispatch themselves, while if it was an accident, you would have seen it straight away. They were unlawfully slain all right. Poor Northwood! And poor John and Philip London, too!’
    ‘What about poor Vale?’ asked Michael.
    It was Edith who answered. ‘I shall pray for his soul, but I disliked him. He pestered my seamstresses relentlessly, and I had to order him to stay away from them in the end.’
    ‘He was sly, as well as a lecher,’ added Stanmore. ‘He tried to cheat me when I sold him some cloth, and I was incensed that he should consider me a fool.’
    ‘Perhaps it was a misunderstanding,’ said Bartholomew, troubled by the remarks. ‘I am sure he would not have—’
    ‘Dear Matt,’ said Edith fondly, reaching out to touch his cheek. ‘Always thinking well of even the most brazen of villains.’
    ‘Incidentally, I am pleased to hear that the Common Library is almost ready,’ said Stanmore. ‘I have it in mind to donate my collection of breviaries to the venture.’
    ‘But you have always said those would come to Michaelhouse,’ cried Michael in dismay.
    ‘I have changed my mind. Chancellor Tynkell has promised twice as many masses for my soul if I give them to him instead. It—’
    ‘Who is that?’ asked Bartholomew suddenly, pointing to where a man and a woman were walking together. He had seen them before, and there was something about the lady that reminded him of Matilde, the love of his life who had disappeared from Cambridge before he could ask her to marry him. That had been three years ago, almost to the day, and he had spent many months searching for her, but had finally resigned himself to the fact that he would never see her again. That did not mean he never thought about her, though, and the woman who walked along Milne Street bore an uncanny resemblance.
    ‘Sir Eustace Dunning and his younger daughter Julitta,’ replied Stanmore. ‘He is an influential member of the Guild of Corpus Christi, and thus a powerful voice in town affairs. You should know him, Matt – he was the one who gave Newe Inn to your University.’
    ‘Julitta,’ repeated Bartholomew, a little dreamily.
    ‘Sister to Weasenham’s wife Ruth,’ Stanmore went on. ‘You can see the likeness, with their fair skin and pretty eyes. And in their intelligence, too.’
    ‘Julitta is betrothed to Surgeon Holm,’ added Edith. ‘Although I cannot say
I
would like to marry a surgeon. They probably bring home some shocking stains.’
    Dunning was a handsome man in his fifties, whose thick grey hair and matching beard made him appear venerable,like a modern-day Plato. He had fought in the Scottish wars, where his courage had earned him his spurs, and he had inherited a sizeable fortune from his father.
    ‘I am sorry my benefaction continues to cause strife, Brother,’ he said,