Free Falconer and the Death of Kings by Ian Morson Page B

truth of Morrish’s veiled rebuke, but he held his tongue. Morrish filled the silence with his opinion on the matter.
    ‘I regret not seeing that Paul was unhappy here. I was so absorbed in my teaching that I did not see he had not fitted in with this crowd of reprobates.’ He waved his arm at the still-grinning group of youths. ‘There was no doubt some gentle ribbing taking place. Perhaps it got too hurtful for him to bear. I blame myself for not being aware of that. Paul was a terrible stammerer, which I put down to his shyness. I tried to cure him of it, but to no avail.’
    ‘But to throw himself off the top of Notre-Dame… Wasn’t that a little extreme?’
    Morrish smiled at Thomas, who felt he was now being treated as a child. A nuisance who was to be indulged only so far and no further.
    ‘He found solace in the cathedral, and could be found there most evenings. It is no surprise to me that it was the site of his death. Now, if you will permit me, it is time to begin my lectures.’
    Morrish abruptly turned his back on Thomas and left him to slide like a naughty child into a place on the back row of benches set out for his students. Soon they were immersed in the Isagoge of Johannitius .

NINE
    ‘ A h, the Isagoge of Johannitius , who was known in the Arab world as Husain al-Ibadi.’
    ‘He was a Muslim, then?’
    ‘No, he was Christian, but he was the director of the caliph’s House of Wisdom in the ninth century. His knowledge is all based on Galen, mind you. And I bet you can’t wait until you progress to the Byzantine text on urines by Theophilus.’
    Thomas smiled broadly at Falconer over the refectory table. Conversation was not forbidden in the abbey, but the content of their discourse was a little eccentric. One of the monks seated next to them was staring at them with distaste written large on his features. Thomas endured Falconer’s teasing.
    ‘You can mock us medical people and our obsessions with the waste products of the body. But be careful. When next you want a corpse examined for a cause of death, I shall leave it up to you to delve inside the carcass.’
    Falconer shuddered at the thought, as did the monk who was following their banter with horror.
    ‘You are right, Thomas. You butchers do have your uses.’
    Falconer’s reference to Thomas’s facility with knives reminded him of the monk who had set him on the wrong track that morning. He still owed the man a trick in return for his misleading guidance to Butchery Street. The medical school could have been easily found with the right directions, but at least Thomas’s confusion had resulted in his striking up a friendship with Jack Hellequin.
    After Adam’s lectures had finished, he had walked with him down to the bottom of the street. There, the narrow houses, stacked cheek by jowl, ended, and a view opened up of the River Seine. A few small rowing boats were drawn up on the muddy bank, and he and Jack sat on an upturned one. It was the first time that Thomas had realized that right across on the opposite bank was the massive bulk of Notre-Dame Cathedral. From the back of the school, it was clearly possible to see the towers, from one of which Paul Hebborn had fallen to his death.
    ‘You are thinking of Paul.’
    Jack’s observation startled Thomas for a moment. Was he that obvious? If he was to be anywhere as good as William in winkling out truths relating to murder, he would have to wear a more veiled visage. Still, he could use the situation to find out more about the dead youth.
    ‘Yes, I was. Was it true what Geoffrey Malpoivre said, that Paul was a misfit?’
    Jack looked at the muddy earth at their feet, poking it with a stick he had picked up.
    ‘Don’t believe everything that Geoffrey tells you. He likes to think of himself as the leader of our little group. And, God knows, he has the money to permit him the right. Most of the others fawn over him in the hope of a free drink at the tavern every night.’
    ‘But you