Revelation

'Yes, sir.' The boy nodded and ran off towards the lodge. I turned and stared again at that great stone bowl of bright red water. The sun was almost fully risen now, bringing an unaccustomed warmth but showing the corpse and the fountain in their full horror. The other boy, who was leaning against the fountain, his back to that awful red water, was shivering violently. 'You,' I said, 'will you run across the court to my chambers — see, there where there is already a light? My assistant is there; tell him to come at once. His name is Barak.'

The boy gulped, nodded and staggered away. I looked up at the windows of the Elliards' quarters. There were no lights; I prayed Dorothy was still abed. I realized with sinking heart that I would have to tell her that Roger was dead. I could not leave that task to some stranger.

Moments later, to my relief, I saw Barak running towards me; the student was following more slowly. His mouth fell open when he saw the body by the fountain.

'Judas' bowels! What the devil's happened here?' He looked red-eyed and smelled of drink; he must have been out all night again. But for all that there was no one I would rather have by me now. 'Roger Elliard is dead,' I said, my voice shaking. 'He has been murdered.'

'Here?' Barak asked disbelievingly.

'During the night. Someone cut his throat and put him in the fountain.'

'Jesu.' Barak bent gently, twitched back the corner of my coat and stared at the dead face. He quickly replaced the coat. He looked at the fountain. 'His throat must have been cut in there. There's no blood on the ground.' He frowned, puzzled. 'And no signs of a struggle in the snow. Unless. . .' he hesitated.

'What?'

'Unless he did it himself. Didn't you say he feared he was ill?'

'He wasn't ill, not seriously. I took him to Guy on Thursday. Do you think anyone would kill himself like this, in the middle of Gatehouse Court?' I heard my voice rising. 'Don't be so stupid! Roger was as content as any man I know. He had everything to live for! He was planning a campaign to build a hospital, he was happily married to the best of women—' I realized I was shouting, and broke off. I put one hand to my damp brow and raised the other in a gesture of apology.

'I am sorry, Jack.'

'It's all right,' he said quietly. 'You've had a shock.'

'No,' I said, and heard my voice tremble. 'I am angry. This was meant as a terrible display.'

Barak thought for a moment. 'Yes,' he said slowly. 'If those students hadn't come by, he would have been found when the resident barristers left chambers to go to the Easter services.'

I looked again at the body. I clenched my fists. 'Who could do such a monstrous thing to a good and peaceful man, cut his throat and let him to bleed to death in there? On Easter day. And why?'

I heard a murmur of voices. Three or four barristers had emerged from their quarters and were approaching. Perhaps they had heard my shouting. At the sight of the body one cried, 'By Our Lady!'

A tall elderly man in a silk robe pushed through. I was relieved to see the Treasurer, Rowland. His unbrushed white hair stuck up over his head.

'Brother Shardlake?' he asked. 'What is going on? The porter roused me—' He broke off, looked at the covered body, then his eyes bulged in horror at the red fountain.

I told him what I knew. He took a deep breath, then bent and uncovered Roger's face again. I fought an urge to tell him to leave him alone. There was a murmur of horror from the onlookers, a dozen of them now. I saw Bealknap among them. Normally eager for scandal, he stood looking on silently, still pale and sick-looking. I thought, Dorothy will hear their gabbling, I must tell her. Then Barak spoke quietly at my elbow. 'There is something you should see. Over here.'

'I must tell Roger's wife—' I said.

'You should see now.'

I stood undecided for a moment, then nodded. 'Master treasurer,' I said. 'Could you excuse me for a moment?'

'Where are you going?' he asked crossly. 'You and those boys, you were the first finders, you must stay for the coroner.'

'I will be back in a minute. Then I will tell Mistress Elliard what has happened. I am a friend.'

The old man turned as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a newly arrived student approaching the body. 'Get back, you crawling clerk!' he shouted. I took the chance to get away.

Barak led me to a point twenty feet away. 'See these footprints?' he asked.

I looked down. Around the fountain the students and I had churned the snow to slush, and the onlookers had left a mess of prints converging on the murder scene. But Barak was pointing to a separate double trail, one approaching and another leading away from the fountain, that went round the side of the building where the Elliards lived. It was the spot where I had heard the unknown intruder a week before.

Barak bent to study the footprints. 'Look how deep the ones leading to the fountain are. Deeper than the ones returning. Like he was carrying something heavy.'