A Brood of Vipers(5)

'He was like his master, the old king.' Agrippa grinned. 'If Throckle can save a penny, he will!'



This time he pounded on the door but, again, no answer. Agrippa pulled down the latch and pushed the door open. Inside the stone-flagged passageway the smell was not so sweet. It was stale and rather fetid, and there was something else - not wood smoke but as if a bonfire had been lit and all sorts of rubbish burnt. We went through the downstairs rooms - a small solar, scullery and kitchen - but these were deserted. I went up the stairs along the gallery. I saw a door off the latch. I pushed this open and went into Throckle's bedchamber. The smell of burning was stronger here. The great canopied fireplace was full of feathery ash. The windows were shuttered. I took my tinder, fumbled and lit a candle. I went across, opened the shutters, turned round and almost dropped the candle with fright. Near the bed stood a huge bath and in it sprawled an old man, both hands under the red-stained water. Above him buzzed a cluster of flies. Now I have seen many a corpse in my day but that one was truly ghastly. The shaven dome, the sunken cheeks, the bloody, red-gummed mouth and half-open eyes and that body ... dirty white, just lying in the water.



I put the candle down on a table and called for Benjamin. He and Agrippa came pounding up the stairs and stared in horror at the disgusting sight.



'Come on!' Benjamin urged. 'Let's get him out!'



He went behind the bath and gripped the man under his arms. I closed my eyes, dipped my hands into that horrid water and pulled the man up by his scrawny ankles. We laid him on the carpet. I remember it was thick, soft and splattered with blood. I got to my feet and walked away, hand to my mouth, trying to control the urge to retch and vomit.



'Murdered?' I asked over my shoulder.

'I doubt it,' Benjamin replied. 'Look, Roger.'



I reluctantly went back and stared down. The palms of the old man's hands were now turned upwards. Great gashes severed the veins on each wrist.



'He died the Roman way,' Agrippa muttered.

'What do you mean?' I asked.



Agrippa walked back to the bath. He dipped his hand into the blood-caked water and, not flinching, fished around and brought out a long, thin Italian stiletto. He tossed this on to the carpet.



'The Roman method,' he continued. 'Fill a bath with boiling hot water, lie in it and open your veins. They say death comes like sleep.'



I stared down at the corpse. 'But why should he commit suicide? A revered physician?' I gestured around. 'Look at this chamber. Woollen carpets on the floor, not rushes. Costly bed hangings, beeswax candles and those drapes on the wall.'



I pointed to an arras, a huge tapestry depicting scenes from the lives of the saints - a golden St George thrusting a fiery lance into the dragon of darkness, a saintly King Edmund being shot to death with arrows by fierce-looking Danes. Benjamin went to crouch before the grate.



'He committed suicide,' he murmured. 'But not before he burned certain papers. Why that, eh?' He got to his feet. 'Why should the revered physician Edward Throckle commit suicide in his bath after being sent a friendly invitation to rejoin the court?'

Agrippa pulled back the curtains of the bed and sat on the gold and silver taffeta eiderdown.

'How do we know it was the invitation?' he asked, rubbing his fingers against his knee.

'Why else?' I muttered, and glanced at Benjamin. 'How long would you say he has been dead, Master?'



Benjamin crouched and touched the man's flesh.



'Cold, rather waxen-looking,' he murmured thoughtfully. 'We left Ipswich yesterday morning. You arrived, Doctor Agrippa, the day before?'

'And the day before that,' Agrippa said, 'I came here with Wolsey's letter.'



'I think he died the day you arrived in Ipswich,' Benjamin said. He looked up at Agrippa, who stared innocently back, and went on, 'Roger is correct. It must have been that invitation.' He got to his feet. 'Now come, Doctor, none of us have any illusions about our king. Was there some hidden message? What did this doctor fear?'



Agrippa gazed owlishly back and raised his left hand.



‘I swear, Master Benjamin, the letter was simple. It was even unsealed. Wolsey sent his good wishes and said that the king himself invited "his dear and beloved physician, Sir Edward Throckle", to join him at Eltham in the company of his loyal subjects Benjamin Daunbey and Roger Shallot.' Agrippa closed his eyes and continued. 'He said that the king missed him and asked him to bring some of his famous medicinals.'



'Such as what?'



'Dried moss, crushed camomile powder, root of the fennel, et cetera.' Agrippa shook his head. 'Nothing extraordinary.' 'And when you came here?' Benjamin asked. 'The physician was hale and hearty.' 'And you gave him the letter?'



'Yes, we sat downstairs in the kitchen sharing a flagon of wine.'