Death at King Arthur's Court Read Free Page B

forensics tech came out the front door, carefully carrying the sword cradled in his arms. He had fashioned a large evidence bag from several smaller ones until the weapon was completely encased in transparent acetate.
    Captain Norbert of the state police followed the medical examiner out of the RV. Both men examined the encased sword in the tech’s arms until the doctor gave an affirmative nod.
    â€˜Looks like the sword was it,’ Rocco said softly.
    â€˜If that blood on my clothing matches Morgan’s …’ Lyon left the remainder of the thought unspoken.
    Norbert, deep in thought, walked slowly toward the patio steps. He was followed by a corporal. He nodded at Rocco. ‘Chief Herbert.’
    â€˜Captain Courageous, I presume,’ Rocco replied.
    â€˜Cut the crap,’ the captain snapped.
    Norbert was a bantam-size man. He had barely qualified for the trooper height requirements, but, as the years passed, he compensated for this lack by increasing the girth of his upper body. He now appeared to be slightly top-heavy. His forward momentum had matured into a minor strut that seemed necessary to propel his pyknic physique forward.
    â€˜Here they are, Captain.’ The second corporal hurried to the captain’s side and handed him the acetate bag containing Lyon’s bloody clothing. Norbert took it with a grimace and thrust it toward Lyon.
    â€˜This your clothing, Wentworth?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    Norbert handed the evidence back to the corporal. ‘They tell me you were wandering around the woods carrying that sword.’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜The medical examiner informs me that it might be the murder weapon. Lab tests will or will not confirm that.’ The last remarks were directed directly at Rocco. ‘His prints are probably smeared all over the damn thing.’
    Lyon seemed oblivious to the remarks. ‘Since the death threats against Morgan began—’
    â€˜That’s Warren Morgan, the victim,’ Rocco said.
    Norbert snapped his fingers and the first corporal began to take rapid notes.
    â€˜Morgan,’ Lyon continued, ‘has recently been living in his recreational vehicle. It’s a radically modified Winnebago. It’s those structural changes that complicate matters.’
    â€˜What does that mean?’
    â€˜I was never quite sure what kind of attack he expected,’ Lyon said. ‘He had modified it until the whole thing became a rolling fortress.’
    â€˜There was absolutely no way to get into that vehicle when Morgan had it buttoned up,’ Rocco said. ‘And on the night of his death it was shut up tighter than a Sherman tank. Theoretically there was no way anyone could get in without his permission. And since he always locked the door when he left, if Morgan came outside voluntarily and was killed in the open, there would be no way to get his body back inside.’
    â€˜But you somehow managed to open it and find the body?’ Norbert said skeptically.
    â€˜Morgan had installed a combination lock on the Winnebago’s side door,’ Rocco said. ‘He changed the number settings yesterday and, as far as we know, Lyon was the only person who had the combination to that lock. He’s the one who opened it for me.’
    â€˜How cooperative of him,’ Norbert said. ‘Getting this down?’ he snapped at the corporal.
    â€˜Yes, sir. Every word.’
    â€˜Let’s proceed with the matter of the death threats. Exactly who was threatening Morgan?’
    Lyon looked out over the hills. ‘It’s a rather extensive list. I suppose you might start with two literature professors from Middleburg University, and include his half-brother and sister.’
    â€˜Then there’s the Satan crew,’ Rocco said. ‘They call themselves the Brotherhood of Beelzebub. We understand from the broadsides they posted that a few dozen of them have sworn a sacred vow to kill