Page 86 of Deceiving an Earl
“This is my first lecture with Sir Needham. Could I ask you a question?”
The man’s pencil was poised above his notes, and he seemed to hesitate, unwilling to be pulled away from his studies. Ashland hovered at Oliver’s elbow, no doubt wondering what Oliver was up to.
“Yes?” the man asked. He didn’t seem overly pleased to be speaking to Oliver.
“He’s quite fascinating, Sir Needham. This is my first autopsy and, forgive my ignorance, but do they all…” He waved his hand in the air as if he were too embarrassed to say what he wanted to say. “Well, it seemed quite warm, the body. I had thought that bodies cooled over time?”
The man’s eyes narrowed, and he snapped his book of notes closed. “Sir Needham gets his bodies like all the other professors. Resurrectionists.”
“Ah. Of course. That makes sense.”
The man made a huffing sound and moved away to a different shadowy corner where he resumed reading his notes.
“What the hell was that about?” Ashland muttered.
“He seemed a bit irritated by my questions.”
“A fine physician he’ll make,” Ashland said.
Oliver looked around the small space where everyone seemed to have congregated. They were all talking quietly in small groups. Oliver didn’t feel comfortable walking up to them and interrupting. He was on to something. He knew he was.
Or you could be reaching. Wanting something to be wrong with Needham when really there is nothing.
“Pardon me.” The voice came from behind him, and Oliver spun around to find a man whom he had seen at the lecture standing behind him. “I heard you asking Smithson about the bodies.” The man lifted his chin to the person Oliver had originally approached. “He’s a strange one, Smithson. Doesn’t mingle with the rest of us. Very off-putting.”
“Quite,” Oliver mumbled.
“I’ve not seen you at one of Sir Needham’s lectures before,” the man said.
“I’m new. This is my first. And this is my assistant, Mr. Brown.”
Ashland glared at Oliver, but Oliver ignored him.
“I’m Mr. Lindsay, a student of Needham’s. And you are?”
“Taylor. Mr. Taylor. I’ve long been interested in becoming a physician and am finally pursuing my dream.”
Ashland snorted quietly and covered it up with a cough. Lindsay didn’t seem to notice. He was watching the rest of the men closely.
“I heard you asking Smithson about the bodies that Needham acquires.”
“I was just interested.”
“Most physicians get them from Resurrectionists, men who raid the public cemeteries. It’s quite profitable, if you have the wherewithal to do it.”
“And the others?”
Lindsay swung his attention back to Oliver. “The others?”
“You said most physicians. I’m assuming others find their bodies by other means?”
“No. Not really.” Lindsay’s gaze went to his fellow students, but they were still in their groups and talking quietly. Smithson was alone in his corner, reading over his notes.
“The thing is,” Lindsay said, lowering his voice. “Needham’s bodies seem rather fresh. The other physicians…well, their bodies are ripe, for lack of a better word. As if they’ve been dead for some time. Needham’s are not like that.”
“Maybe Needham pays the Resurrectionists more money to bring him fresher bodies.”
This all seemed wrong, talking about the dead like this, but Oliver wanted answers.
