Matthew Hawkwood Thriller Series Books 1-3: Ratcatcher, Resurrectionist, Rapscallion. James McGee

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      The doctor drew himself up. “It’s clear from the condition of the body and the deceased’s clothing that he spent some considerable time in the water. Initial examination of the victim’s lungs, however, has revealed that death was not due to drowning. Indicating, as I have said, that it was the blow to the head that killed him. The fact that the body was discovered above the high-water mark lends foundation to my own particular theory.”

      Read frowned. “Which is what, exactly?”

      “I think he’s telling us,” Hawkwood said, “that in all probability, the blow wasn’t immediately fatal. In other words, he was hit on the head and either fell or was pushed into the river, and it was the effort of dragging himself ashore that killed him.”

      Read stared at the physician. “That’s your conclusion?”

      McGregor, clearly annoyed that Hawkwood had stolen his thunder, scowled and nodded. “It is.”

      There was a long silence. “What about the weapon?” Hawkwood asked.

      The surgeon, still rankled by Hawkwood’s presence and lack of grace, pursed his lips. “The blow was driven with excessive force. I’d suggest an instrument both sharp and heavy, perhaps a pick or chisel of some kind. Beyond that, I cannot say with any certainty.”

      “Jesus!” Hawkwood snapped. “Is there anything you can be certain about? Besides your bloody fee!”

      McGregor jerked back as if he had been struck. “How dare you, sir! I –”

      “Enough!” The Chief Magistrate’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

      The doctor looked as if he was about to continue his bluster, but one look at James Read’s face persuaded him otherwise. Hawkwood discovered that both his own fists were tightly clenched.

      Read stood. “Thank you, Doctor. As ever, you have been most helpful. My clerk will see you out.”

      As if on cue, the door opened. Ezra Twigg stood framed in the opening. “This way, Doctor, if you please.”

      The Chief Magistrate waited for the door to close before fixing Hawkwood with a stern eye. “That was uncalled for.”

      “He’s a pompous oaf.”

      James Read sighed. “Pompous he may be. He certainly has an unenviable capacity to irritate. But an oaf? He’s an excellent surgeon, Hawkwood, and I would remind you that we require his services rather more than he requires ours.”

      “It doesn’t mean I have to like him,” Hawkwood said.

      “True,” Read agreed wearily. “Nevertheless, while I appreciate your feelings over the death of a colleague, I’d be obliged if you would refrain from insulting the man to his face, particularly in my presence.”

      The warning glint in the magistrate’s eye was only too clear. Hawkwood gave way. “Yes, sir.”

      Read nodded. Honour had been satisfied. “So, to business. Warlock’s murder – you’ve thoughts on the matter?”

      Hawkwood shrugged. “Robbery or revenge. It has to be one of the two.”

      The Chief Magistrate looked thoughtful. “Well, the area’s a notorious haunt for footpads. However …”

      Hawkwood nodded. “I know. But the more I think about it, the less likely robbery seems. He was too fly to let himself be waylaid by a cutpurse. And the fact that his pockets were empty is no indication. Hell, another hour and he’d have been stripped naked. There’s not many who’d pass up the chance of a coat and a free pair of boots. My guess is revenge. He was a good thief-taker. He must have sent down a fair number of villains in his time, made plenty of enemies along the way. That’s a lot of people who’d like to see him dead.”

      Read looked glum. “If it was a revenge killing, the search for his murderer may prove to be a long one. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

      “Depends on the size of the needle,” Hawkwood said. “Maybe we should begin by looking at his most recent assignments.”

      Hawkwood tried to recall the details of Warlock’s current case. Something innocuous, if memory served. Certainly nothing to suggest there might be violence involved. What the hell had it been? His mind went back to the previous meeting with James Read, when the latter had listed each Runner’s case load. Then it came to him. The missing clockmaker. Hardly a problem to set the pulse racing, one would have thought.

      Even the Chief Magistrate looked dubious.

      “It’s as good a place to start as any,” Hawkwood offered.

      James Read was silent for several moments. Finally, with some reluctance, he nodded. “Very well. It would appear we’ve little else to go on.” A frown creased the magistrate’s face. “You say the children saw nothing?”

      “That’s what they told me.”

      “You believed them?”

      “Yes.”

      The Chief Magistrate looked sceptical. “I wish I shared your confidence. Still, I’ve no doubt you know your informants. I will, therefore, trust your judgement. Now, regarding the investigation, you’re the only Runner immediately available to me, so I’m placing you in charge. I’d hoped to recall Lightfoot from his protection duties but the bank will require his services for at least another day. I’ve also had a word with Lacey’s physician. He tells me Officer Lacey may be able to return to light duties, but again it won’t be for a day or two. Until then, I’m afraid you’re on your own. I’ve arranged for reward notices to be posted and I’ve ordered extra constables to begin enquiries in the area. Though, frankly, I’ve little expectation of them discovering anything of note. I can assign one of them to assist you directly, if you feel it necessary.”

      “I don’t,” Hawkwood said quickly. It had been Hawkwood’s experience that, with very few exceptions, constables were about as much use as watchmen, which meant none at all. He refrained from voicing his opinion out loud and was relieved when the Chief Magistrate did not seem too surprised at his decision.

      “As you wish.” Read massaged his temples. “By the way, I take it from your lack of report that there has been no progress with regards to the coach murders?”

      “Not so far.”

      “I see,” the Chief Magistrate said pensively. “That is most regrettable.”

      “I’m going to need information on all Warlock’s cases,” Hawkwood prompted.

      “What?” For a second, the magistrate’s thoughts appeared to be centred elsewhere. “Ah, yes, of course. Well, see Mr Twigg. Use him to your best advantage.” James Read grimaced. “At least we know now why Warlock failed to report the other evening.”

      Hawkwood moved towards the door.

      “A moment, Hawkwood. There’s another matter that concerns me.”

      Hawkwood tensed. The sudden coldness in the Chief Magistrate’s tone was unmistakable. Hawkwood knew instinctively what was coming. Squaring his shoulders, СКАЧАТЬ