Medi-Evil 3 Read Online Free Page A

now,” O’Calligan added. He turned to his hostess. “Madam, I no longer have authority here, but it might be a useful thing if we searched these premises. It’s possible some vagrant has broken in, seeking shelter.”
      Lady Foxworth’s delicate cheek paled at the mere thought, but she nodded quickly. “Yes, we should search. Of course.”
      “Might I also suggest,” O’Calligan said, “that we remove the bodies to one of your outbuildings. How soon we’ll be able to summon help in this weather I don’t know, but if we keep them indoors too long, they’ll start to putrefy. Outside, the cold will preserve them until an enquiry can be made.”
      Again Lady Foxworth nodded. “Cedric, assist Captain O’Calligan .”
      O’Calligan and the servant wrapped the bodies in sheets, and carried them downstairs. As they did, Cedric voiced a quiet opinion of his own. “If you’ll notice, captain, their throats haven’t been cut. More ripped, I’d say.”
      When they reached one of the stables, having ploughed through snow that was now knee-deep and still being driven on a sword-edged wind, O’Calligan saw the same thing for himself . By the light of a lantern, he examined the victims’ throats, and noted that, though the outer flesh and the esophagus tissue beneath had been sliced from one side to the other, the wounds were ragged-edged and zigzagging.
      “A hooked blade, maybe?” he said, baffled. “And not especially sharp. Good Lord. Whoever did this, Cedric, is a savage. A real savage.”
     
    *
     
    For the next hour, the men, now coated and booted and armed to the teeth, searched every nook of the great manor house, while the women sat nervously before a rekindled hearth.
      It was no small task. As well as its central section and extensive wings, Silvercombe Hall also boasted a number of outhouses. However, no trace was found of an interloper. More to the point, no locks had been forced or windows broken. The search party even ventured out into the landscaped gardens, though this was fruitless for different reasons: the blizzard howled and the snow drifted to such depths that sculptures, arbors and topiary alike were all buried. Eventually they returned indoors, having agreed to meet again in the morning and discuss the affair over breakfast, though throughout this conversation Lord Lightbourne’s eagle-eye was fixed on Jack O’Calligan .
      For his own part, O’Calligan had no intention of retiring just yet, and when various bedrooms had been closed and locks thrown, he summoned Cedric back to the murder scene. It was now ice-cold in there and pitch-black, the fire having died, the candle having been removed. Cedric produced a fresh one and lit it, and they stood there warily, their breath swirling vaporously around them.
      “The luggage is untouched,” O’Calligan said, nodding to an open cupboard, in the foot of which two heavy portmanteaux could be seen. “Whoever did this was not trying to rob them.”
      Cedric nodded, then added: “There’s another mystery. How did the villain get in? I checked the window before. It’s fast. Not even tampered with.”
      O’Calligan crossed the room to check for himself, but found that the window was indeed securely locked. Beyond its warped panes, he saw a shelf of unbroken snow. No-one had entered by this route. “The only conclusion is that the killer was already in here when they arrived,” he finally said.
      “Then how did he get out?” Cedric asked. “The door was locked from the inside.”
      They glanced around the room, the walls of which, with the exception of a stone breastwork over the hearth, consisted of solid oaken panels. O’Calligan even glanced up the chimney, but saw a narrow brick shaft not remotely large enough for a human to pass through. He stood back, even more confused. “Cedric, you know the people gathered here very well. Better than I ever could. Did any one of them have reason to hate Lord and Lady