Shroud for the Archbishop

by Peter Tremayne

‘I have warned the brethren to be ready to be called for examination,’ he greeted, as Fidelma entered and seated herself in one of the several wooden chairs that were in the room.

  ‘Excellent. Licinius here will act as our dispensator and bring them to us when we require their presence.’

  The young tesserarius nodded his head stiffly, all official business now.

  ‘By your command, sister.’

  Eadulf scratched the tip of his nose. He had gathered some clay writing tablets and a stylus and placed them on a small table.

  ‘I will make notes as required,’ he said, ‘but, in truth, Fidelma, I see little of worth coming from this exercise. I believe …’

  Fidelma held up her hand to silence him.

  ‘I know. Brother Ronan Ragallach is the guilty person. So indulge my curiosity, Eadulf, and we may get through this more easily.’

  Eadulf tightened his jaw and was silent.

  Fidelma was unhappy. She wished Eadulf was more open on the subject, for she appreciated his keen mind and perceptive assessment of people. But she could not go against her intuition and she was sure that there was a hidden mystery to be delved.

  ‘Let us start with Brother Ine, Wighard’s personal servant,’ she announced firmly.

  Eadulf glanced to Licinius.

  ‘Fetch Brother Ine to us. I have asked those we may wish to see to make themselves available in the great hall. You will probably find him waiting there.’

  The young tesserarius inclined his head and left.

  Eadulf returned his gaze to Fidelma and grinned wryly. ‘Our patrician friend seems to have little liking for our investigation.’

  ‘I think he would prefer to be fighting in the ancient imperial armies of Rome than simply acting the custodian and bodyguard to a group of religious,’ replied Fidelma solemnly. ‘He wears his patrician’s ancestry with all the impatience and arrogance of an immature youth. Yet in that he has time on his side, for he will grow and mature.’

  It seemed that Licinius had gone but a moment when the door opened.

  A short, thin man with mournful features entered. He was about forty years of age, so Fidelma judged. Behind him came the young tesserarius.

  ‘Brother Ine,’ announced Licinius, almost propelling the monk unwillingly into the room and closing the door behind him.

  ‘Come in, Brother Ine,’ Eadulf motioned to a seat. ‘This is Sister Fidelma of Kildare who has been commissioned with me by Bishop Gelasius to investigate the death of Wighard.’

  The monk looked with dark solemn eyes at Fidelma without a change of his melancholy expression.

  ‘Deus vobiscum,’ he mumbled, sinking into the chair.

  ‘Brother Ine,’ Fidelma thought she should ensure the monk understood clearly. ‘You do understand that we are investigating the murder of Wighard of Canterbury with the authority of the papal household?’

  Brother Ine nodded, a swift, nervous jerk of his head.

  ‘You were the personal servant to Wighard?’

  ‘Requiscat in pace!’ intoned Brother Ine piously, genuflecting. ‘I served the late archbishop-designate. Indeed, I was more of his confidant.’

  ‘You are from the kingdom of Kent?’

  Eadulf decided to sit back and let Fidelma ask all the questions she wished.

  ‘I am,’ the monk seemed to let an expression of pride cross his doleful features, but only momentarily. ‘My father was a churl in the house of Eadbald the king, and my brother remains in the house of Eorcenberht who now sits upon the throne.’

  ‘A labourer,’ explained Eadulf, in case Fidelma’s knowledge of Saxon failed her. ‘A churl is a servant who does menial tasks.’

  ‘And how long have you served Christ?’ Fidelma asked, turning back to Brother Ine.

  ‘My father gave me to the abbey at Canterbury when Honorius was archbishop. I was ten years of age and was raised in the service of Our Lord.’

  Fidelma had heard of this curious Saxon custom of giving their children away to the service of a monastery of abbey.

  ‘And how long have you been in service to Wighard?’

  ‘Twenty years. I became his servant when he was appointed secretary to Bishop Ithamar of Rochester.’

  ‘Ithamar was the first Kentish man to be consecrated a bishop, nearly fifty years after Augustine brought Christianity to Kent,’ intervened Eadulf in explanation.

  Fidelma did not acknowledge his amplification but Brother Ine nodded in agreement.

  ‘It was the same year that Wighard’s family were slaughtered in a Pictish raid on the north Kent coast. When he was only a lowly priest, the archbishop-designate was married with young children. After their slaughter Wighard threw himself into the work of the church and served Ithamar for ten years. When Honorius died and Deusdedit became first Saxon archbishop of Canterbury, Deusdedit chose Wighard as his secretary and so we went to Canterbury from Rochester. I have been with Wighard ever since.’

  ‘Indeed; so you have known Wighard a long time?’

  Brother Ine grimaced affirmatively.

  ‘In your experience, did Wighard have any enemies?’

  Ine frowned and gave a furtive glance at Eadulf before dropping his eyes. He seemed to have difficulty framing his words.

  ‘Wighard was an advocate of Roman Rule and, as such, encountered much hostility …’

  When he did not finish, Fidelma smiled tiredly.

  ‘You were going to say from those who advocate the Rule of Colmcille, such as myself?’

  Brother Ine shrugged helplessly.

  ‘No other enemies?’ pressed Fidelma.

  The gloomy monk raised his dark eyes and shrugged.

  ‘None who would resort to murder.’

  She ignored the implication and continued, ‘Let us go to the night of that murder, Brother Ine. As personal servant to Wighard, would you normally help the archbishop-designate prepare for bed?’

  ‘I would.’

  ‘But not that night?’

  Brother Ine frowned, a hint of suspicion spreading over his features.

  ‘How did … ?’ he began.

  Fidelma made an impatient gesture with her hand.

  ‘The bed chamber was unprepared, the coverlets not turned back. An elementary deduction. Tell me, when did you last see Wighard alive?’

  Brother Ine sat back and sighed, gathering his thoughts together.

  ‘I went to Wighard’s chambers at two hours before the midnight Angelus tolled.’

  ‘And where was your own chamber?’ asked Fidelma.

  ‘Next to Brother Eadulf’s chamber which was directly opposite the archbishop-designate’s rooms.’

  This confirmed what Eadulf had told her but it was best to leave nothing to hearsay.

  ‘So you had merely to cross the corridor to Wighard’s chamber?’

  ‘Yes, that is so.’

  ‘Continue.’ Fidelma sat back watching the Saxon monk carefully.

  Brother Ine hesitated again.

  ‘I went to Wighard’s chambers as I normally did at that hour. As you suggest, it was part of my duties to prepare the bed and see whether the archbishop-designate had everything he wanted for his night’s repose.’

  ‘Two hours before the midnight Angelus is surely an early hour to retire? Did Wighard always go to bed so early?’

  ‘He found the climate uncomfortable and would prefer to rise early before the sun came up and work then. It has been his custom, since coming to this land, to go to bed early and rise early.’

  Fidelma glanced to Eadulf who, having been Wighard’s secretary, nodded confirmation of what Ine said.

  ‘And so you went to prepare his bed?’ prompted Fidelma.

  ‘The archbishop-designate seemed …’ Brother Ine hesitated and thought about the word he was to use, ‘ … preoccupied. He told me that he would dispense with my services for that evening.’

  ‘Did he offer an explanation?’

  ‘Only that …’ Ine hesitated again and he blinked rapidly for a moment
, as some distant memory was recalled. ‘He said that he had things to do, someone to see. He would turn down his own bed when the time came.’

  Sister Fidelma raised her eyes interrogatively.

  ‘Someone to see? Did you find this odd, if, as you say, he was in the habit of retiring early?’

  ‘No. I simply presumed that he had some extra work to do with his secretary, Brother Eadulf here, in preparation for today’s audience with His Holiness. Wighard was a man of simplicity and he would often perform menial tasks for himself.’

  ‘So, what you are saying, is that Wighard was expecting a visitor in spite of the lateness of the hour? In spite of his usual routine of retiring early?’

  Brother Ine again looked to Eadulf.

  ‘Surely he spoke of this to you, brother?’

  Eadulf shook his head negatively.

  ‘I knew nothing of Wighard’s expected visitor. It was certainly not I. That evening I did not return to the palace until after Wighard was found dead.’

  ‘And after Wighard had informed you that you were not needed, you then returned to your own chamber?’ went on Fidelma, addressing Ine.

  ‘I did. I left Wighard, closing his chamber door and returned to my own. It was after midnight that I was awakened by a commotion to find the palace custodes thronging the corridor and learn that Wighard had been killed.’

  ‘You went to sleep immediately after you left Wighard?’ Eadulf asked.

  ‘I did. And soundly.’

  ‘It would seem that you were the last person to see and speak to Wighard before his death,’ Eadulf observed thoughtfully.

  Brother Ine’s chin raised sharply.

  ‘Apart from his killer,’ he said with emphasis.

  Fidelma gave a placatory smile.

  ‘Of course. Apart from Wighard’s killer. And we have no idea as to who this late-night caller was?’

  Brother Ine raised his shoulders in an expressive shrug.

  ‘I have said as much,’ he grunted. Then he frowned and looked from one to the other in bewilderment. ‘But I thought the custodes had arrested an Irishman who was seen leaving Wighard’s chambers? So it would follow that it was this Irish religious who was the visitor that he expected.’

  ‘Tell me, Ine,’ Fidelma went on, ignoring his point, ‘as servant to Wighard, was it your job to look after the valuable gifts from the Saxon kingdoms which he had brought to give to His Holiness?’

  Again the fleeting look of suspicion crossed Ine’s face.

  ‘It was. Why?’

  ‘When did you last see those treasures?’

  Ine frowned and gently chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment.

  ‘Earlier that day. Wighard asked me to ensure that everything was polished and cleaned in readiness for the presentation to His Holiness today.’

  ‘Ah!’ Fidelma breathed quickly. ‘So Wighard’s audience with His Holiness was to present him with the gifts which he had brought?’

  ‘And also to get His Holiness to bless the chalices from the seven kingdoms,’ Eadulf pointed out in intervention. ‘That was known by a great many.’

  Fidelma turned to Eadulf.

  ‘So if robbery were a motive in this, many people would know that the valuables would be handed over to His Holiness’ treasury today and from which it would be hard to extricate them?’

  ‘Also,’ Eadulf was diffident, ‘it was known that the chalices would be blessed and returned to Wighard for restoring to Canterbury.’

  ‘But the main part of the treasure would be gone? It would be in the safe keeping of the palace treasury?’

  ‘That is true,’ agreed Eadulf.

  Brother Ine was looking at them with a slight frown of bewilderment.

  ‘Are you saying that the treasure is gone?’ he asked.

  ‘You have not heard?’ Fidelma was interested. The expression of surprise on Ine’s face was absolutely genuine.

  ‘No. No one has told me this.’

  The melancholy Saxon monk looked unusually outraged. Fidelma thought the news had come as a blow to his pride, since he regarded himself as confidant to Wighard. The outrage left his face quickly and once more the woeful countenance formed.

  ‘Is that all?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ answered Fidelma. ‘You cleaned or made sure the treasure was in Wighard’s trunk … at what hour?’

  ‘Just before the evening meal.’

  ‘And everything was there then?’

  The chin came up slightly and then fell back. Whatever protest died.

  ‘Yes. It was all there,’ he answered sullenly.

  ‘When you went in to see Wighard, to prepare his bed,’ Eadulf intervened, ‘was the trunk open or shut?’

  ‘Shut,’ came the immediate reply.

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ demanded Fidelma quickly.

  ‘The trunk was not hidden from view when you entered the archbishop-designate’s chambers.’

  ‘Was there any guard on this so valuable treasure?’

  ‘Only the palace custodes ordered there by the military governor. One was always patrolling the stairways to the corridor.’

  Fidelma thought a moment.

  ‘Patrolling … but not permanently in the corridor?’

  ‘That is so. There were guards always around the entrance to the guest quarters. The chambers were on the third floor of the building and so only the stairways gave access to them.’

  ‘But the guards were not permanently stationed in the corridor itself so that the treasure could well be removed without anyone observing?’

  ‘Truly. But anyone from outside the building could not come and leave without encountering the custodes.’ Ine’s face lightened. ‘But, of course, that was how they caught the Irish monk! So the treasure must have been recovered.’

  Fidelma glanced at Eadulf at the simple significance of the comment.

  ‘But you can confirm that there was no permanent guard to the treasure? No one was on duty outside Wighard’s rooms all the time?’

  ‘No, there was not.’

  Fidelma gave a long sigh and leant back.

  ‘That is all. We may want to speak with you later.’

  Ine, with as much reluctance as he had shown on entering the room, rose and left. When he had done so, Fidelma turned to Eadulf.

  ‘So. The stolen treasure was last seen just after the evening meal and Wighard was alive and well two hours before midnight but dead just after midnight. We know that he was expecting someone within two hours of his death and that just after midnight Brother Ronan Ragallach was seen coming from his room and arrested. This Brother Ronan was not carrying any of the treasure which, with the exception of the relics which have no commercial value, has now disappeared entirely.’

  ‘That is little more than we know already.’

  ‘Licinius!’ Fidelma rose from her seat and called to the tesserarius.

  The young guard opened the door and came in.

  ‘Whom do you wish to speak with now, sister?’ he asked formally.

  ‘You, just for a moment.’

  The tesserarius looked surprised but he came in and stood before her, self-consciously in a soldier’s easy stance.

  ‘Tell me, Furius Licinius, how long have you been a guard in the Lateran Palace?’

  Licinius frowned slightly.

  ‘I have been of the custodes for four years, of which I commanded a decuria for two years and am now newly appointed officer of the watch or tesserarius.’

  ‘So you know the palace well?’

  ‘As well as anyone, I would say,’ the young man replied, trying to forget how easily he had been deceived by the Irish religious two nights before over the matter of the sacellerius’ storeroom.

  ‘The decurion Marcus Narses has, I believe, carried out another search of the rooms in the guests’ quarters following our conversation this morning.’

  Licinius smiled softly, remembering his fellow officer’s mortification at the discovery of some of the missing relics from Wig
hard’s treasure under Wighard’s own bed.

  ‘He did, sister, and found nothing more.’

  ‘Let us hypothesise; say you went to rob Wighard’s chamber. Say you killed Wighard and then had to remove a large treasure, what would amount to two large sacks of heavy metal objects. How would you do it?’

  The tesserarius’s eyes were wide but he thought carefully before replying.

  ‘If I were in that position, I would know that there were patrols. I would know that the stairs, of which there are two flights leading up to the third floor apartments, were guarded. So I would have to hide it on the same floor and return for it later. It would then be impossible to attempt to leave and avoid the guards. But Marcus Narses has already searched the rooms on that floor, and it should be remembered that they were all occupied apart from two storerooms. There are no hidden chambers or alcoves in the vicinity.’

  Fidelma’s mouth drooped.

  ‘Yet we are being asked to believe that somehow Brother Ronan Ragallach killed Wighard and escaped with this bulky treasure … while at the same time being spotted by your friend, the decurion Marcus Narses, and arrested as he attempted to flee from the scene of the crime. Is Ronan Ragallach then a wizard that he could make the treasure disappear? There was, according to decurion Narses, nothing on his person. Explain this to me, Furius Licinius.’

  To her surprise the tesserarius did not hesitate.

  ‘It is simple, sister. Either Brother Ronan had already hidden the treasure when Marcus spied him and gave chase, or he had an accomplice who carried the treasure away unseen while Ronan was caught.’

  Fidelma shook her head dubiously.

  ‘An accomplice. An excellent thought. An accomplice who was able to avoid the guards? It does not sound quite right, Furius Licinius. You have killed someone and then wait in their chamber while your accomplice makes at least two journeys back and forth to take away the valuables and hide them whilst avoiding the guards. Then you wait further until the accomplice is well clear before you make your own empty-handed exit from the murder room and … and are then caught.’

  ‘Then it must be the first solution. That Ronan had already hidden the treasure when he was caught,’ Eadulf said. Thinking aloud, he added: ‘But if Ronan was in the process of hiding the treasure he would not have gone back to Wighard’s chamber after removing the last load. The quicker he removed himself from the scene of the crime the better.’