““All the killing was done outside,” Frevisse said. “There’s no blood here.” “You’ve looked?” the rumpled man asked tersely. “I can see,” she said. Guessing how little the help of an unknown nun would be welcomed, she was already leaving. Only because she did not know if the man would think of it for himself, she turned back at the door and said, “Whoever smashed Sawnder’s head was maybe badly spattered with his blood. It might be worth giving out word you’re interested in anyone seen wi...th blood on them.” “My good lady!” Father Richard exclaimed, distressed. But the other man’s eyes narrowed in assessment of her as he said, “That’s something Fd thought of, but my thanks.” “And whatever was used to hit him,” Frevisse persisted, “if it was a club and wooden, blood doesn’t clean easily off wood.” “If it was wood,” the man said back, “it’s likely ashes in someone’s fire by now.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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