Read Online Shroud for the Archbishop by Peter Tremayne - Free Book Online Page B

seen. We will discuss this later with the monk, Ronan Ragallach. Come, Furius Licinius, conduct me to this physician who examined the body of Wighard.’

Chapter Five
    Cornelius of Alexandria, the personal physician to His Holiness, Vitalian, Bishop of Rome, was a short, swarthy man. A black-haired Alexandrian Greek, with a prominent, bulbous nose and thin lips. While clean shaven, a blue-black stubble gave the impression that he would need to scrape his facial hair three times daily to remain without a beard. His eyes were dark and penetrating. He rose uncertainly as Furius Licinius entered his chamber, followed by Fidelma and Eadulf.
    ‘Well, tesserarius?’ His tone demonstrated his annoyance at being disturbed.
    ‘Are you Cornelius the physician?’ It was Fidelma who asked, falling easily into Greek. Then she realised that Brother Eadulf was not fluent in the language and so repeated her question in colloquial Latin.
    The Alexandrian examined her with a speculative look.
    ‘I am personal physician to the Holy Father,’ he confirmed. ‘Who are you?’
    ‘I am Fidelma of Kildare and this is Brother Eadulf of Canterbury. We are charged by the Bishop Gelasius to investigate the death of Wighard.’
    The physician snorted derisively.

    ‘There is little to investigate, sister. There are no mysteries about the facts of Wighard’s death.’
    ‘Then you may tell us, how did he die?’
    ‘Strangulation,’ came the prompt reply.
    Fidelma recalled her meeting with Wighard at Witebia when he was scriba, secretary to the archbishop Deusdedit.
    ‘Wighard was a big man, as I remember. It would take a powerful person to strangle him.’
    Cornelius sniffed. He had, it seemed, an annoying habit of making sounds through his nose by way of comment and punctuation.
    ‘You would be surprised, sister, how little effort it takes to strangle even a powerful man. A mere compression of the carotid arteries and the jugular veins in the neck cuts off the supply of blood to the brain and produces unconsciousness almost immediately, perhaps three seconds at the most.’
    ‘Provided the subject allows that pressure to be exerted on his neck,’ replied Fidelma thoughtfully. ‘Where is Wighard’s body now? Still in his chamber?’
    Cornelius shook his head.
    ‘I have had it removed to the mortuarium.’
    ‘A pity.’
    Cornelius compressed his lips in annoyance at the implied criticism.
    ‘There is nothing about his death that I cannot tell you, sister,’ he said distantly.
    ‘Perhaps,’ Fidelma’s reply was softly said. ‘Show us the body of Wighard and then you may explain to us how you came by your findings.’
    Cornelius hesitated and then gave an elaborate shrug combining with it a mocking half-bow.

    ‘Follow me,’ he said, turning and leading the way from his chamber through a small door which opened on to a small spiral stone staircase. They descended after him, down into a gloomy passageway and thence into a large cold marble-flagged room. There were several table-like slabs, also of marble, which immediately proclaimed their usage by their shrouded contents. The slabs held what were obviously bodies covered by stained linen cloths.
    Cornelius went to one of them and removed the cloth casually, tossing it to one side.
    ‘The body of Wighard,’ he sniffed, nodding towards the pale, waxy-faced corpse.
    Fidelma and Eadulf moved to the slab and peered down while Licinius hovered dutifully in the background. In life, Wighard of Canterbury had been a large, jovial-looking man with greying hair, and rotund features. Although, as Fidelma recalled from their meeting at Witebia, his cherubic-like features had hidden a coldly calculating mind and an ambition sharpened like a sword. The eyes in the rotund face had been those of a cunning fox. Without muscle tension to control his features, the pale, waxy flesh sagged causing a change of expression that made him almost unrecognisable to those who had known him in