fire?' said Jamie. 'It seems rather cold in here today.'
'Of course, sir.' Greaves gestured for Brennan to put his trays down on the
table and see to the fire. Brennan gave him a look, but did as he was bid.
For a while, there was only the occasional murmur of conversation as everyone
heaped their plates and then set about the serious business of breakfast. Hawk
in particular tucked into his food with gusto, but Marc, sitting opposite
Fisher, seemed to be just toying with his. Hawk assumed he was one of those
people who couldn't face a heavy meal first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, the
minstrel had called on Greaves to help him get the fire going. Hawk smiled
slightly. The butler obviously didn't care at all for being involved in such a
menial task. He gave Brennan a hard look, and then reached gingerly up into the
chimney to tug at some obstruction. Whatever it was, it didn't want to budge,
and Greaves had to try again, harder. And then he and Brennan jumped back from
the fireplace with cries of shock and horror as a body fell down out of the
chimney and crashed into the grate. It was a man, entirely naked and stained
with soot, and very obviously dead. The whole of his face had been burned away
by the fire.
Chapter Four
Wolf in The Fold
For a long moment nobody stirred, and then there was a general scramble round
the table as people surged to their feet. Greaves backed away from the body,
unable to take his eyes off it, until he bumped into the edge of the table
behind him. Brennan stayed where he was, rooted to the spot. Hawk pushed past
them both and knelt down beside the dead man. Jamie and Alistair crowded in
behind him, peering over his shoulder but apparently unwilling to get any closer
than that to the body. Fisher leaned gingerly into the fireplace and peered up
the chimney, just in case it held any more nasty surprises. Everyone else
huddled together at the far end of the table, torn between edging closer for a
better look and making a mad dash for the door. Holly's face was bone white, and
she clung desperately to Katrina for support. Katrina patted her niece's hands
in an absent-minded, comforting way while she craned her neck to see what was
happening. David and Arthur had both moved to put themselves between the ladies
and the dead man, as much out of gallantry as anything. Marc stood beside them,
gazing with fascination at the dead man.
Hawk did his best to ignore Jamie and Alistair breathing down his neck, and
looked the dead man over carefully, starting at what was left of the head and
working his way slowly down the body. There were a number of cuts and scrapes,
presumably from being wedged up the chimney, but no sign of any death wound. He
turned his attention back to the burned face, and winced despite himself. The
eyes and nose were gone, and the teeth grinned horribly through a mask of
charred flesh and bone. There was no hair left, and the ears were nothing more
than blackened nubs. Hawk breathed shallowly through his mouth, trying to avoid
the smell. He'd seen many dead men in his time, often in worse condition than
this, but there was something disturbingly cold and calculating in the manner of
this man's death. He touched the man's shoulder gently with his fingertips. The
flesh was cold to the touch, already showing the purplish bruises caused by
blood sinking to the lowest part of the body. The dead man had been in the
chimney for some time. Maybe overnight. Hawk tried the neck, but it didn't seem
to be broken. He worked the dead man's arm gently, and it bent easily at the
elbow, indicating rigor mortis either hadn't set in yet or had been and gone.
Hawk frowned. That was probably a clue as to how long the man had been dead, but
he didn't understand such things. He'd never needed to. That was what forensic
sorcerers were for. He looked round sharply as Jamie MacNeil crouched down
beside him. Alistair leaned in closer, one hand resting supportively on Jamie's
shoulder.
'How did he die, do you think?' said Jamie steadily.
'Hard to tell,' said Hawk. 'There's no actual death wound that I can see, just
the damage to the face.'
'Nasty way to go,' said Alistair. 'I once knew a tribe of savages who killed
their prisoners this way; hung them over an open fire till their brains boiled.
Nasty.'
'I don't think that's what happened here,' said Hawk slowly. 'Look at the back
of the head.' He gingerly lifted the burned head off the floor so they could
see. 'The face has been totally destroyed, but the back of the head is barely
touched. I think someone pushed this poor bastard's face into the fire and held
it there till he died.'
'Gods!' Jamie looked suddenly as though he might vomit, and turned his head
away, eyes squeezed shut.
'There's no sign of any struggle here, as far as I can see,' said Fisher, her
voice coming hollowly from inside the chimney. She ducked her head back out, and
beat soot from her hair and shoulders. 'Looks to me like he was already dead
when the killer stuffed him up the chimney.'
She started towards the group round the body, but Alistair moved quickly to
block her way. 'That's quite close enough, my dear. Please return to the others.
This is no sight for a young lady such as yourself.'
Fisher was about to ask sarcastically whether he was referring to the dead man's
injuries or his nakedness, when she caught Hawk glaring at her. At which point
she remembered she was supposed to be a sheltered young flower of the Quality,
not a hardened city Guard, and she went reluctantly back to join the others. She
put a comforting arm round Holly's snaking shoulders and listened carefully to
what was being said about the dead man.
'Any idea who this is? Or rather, was?' said Hawk to Jamie.
The MacNeil looked back at the body. His face was very pale, but his gaze was
steady and his mouth was firm. 'Whoever he is, he shouldn't be here. The last of
the servants left two days ago, and the only guests I know of are all in this
room.'
'Maybe one of the servants came back,' said Alistair.
'Not without Greaves knowing, and he would have told me.' Jamie shook his head
slowly. 'None of this makes any sense. No one could have got in past the Tower's
wards without setting off all kinds of alarms. It's impossible. And who would
want to kill a man here, and like… that? It's insane!'
Alistair gripped Jamie's shoulder firmly. 'Easy, lad. Don't go to pieces on us
now. You're the MacNeil, and the others will be looking to you for guidance. We
have a murderer loose in the Tower somewhere, and we have to find him. Before he
strikes again.'
'He's right,' said Hawk. 'This is a very nasty business, Jamie. You'd better
call in the Guard.'
'No!' said Alistair sharply. 'This is a Family matter. We don't bring outsiders
into Family business.'
