‘Anyway, what happened?’ asked Aidan, more interested in the adventure than in the deduction.
‘Well, a fellow came along on a horse, along the same road as I was travelling. He overtook me and I shouted out to him to know whether he had seen a young man on a horse with a black and white tail. He stopped immediately and turned back and said the young fellow was staying with a relation of his and he would bring me to him.’ Fachtnan gave a shrug of embarrassment. ‘Well, you know the rest,’ he said. ‘Now it’s your turn, Brehon.’
‘My excuse for not seeing the truth earlier is that the business of the flax garden distracted me,’ said Mara. ‘Once the burned contract was found just above it and also the pink tape, well, it almost seemed sure that the murder of Eamon had been committed, perhaps inadvertently, by either Cathal, Gobnait or Owney.’
Was Gobnait responsible for the attack on Muiris? she wondered. Donán had denied it, but Turlough had contemptuously said that the man was a liar and had always been a liar. Muiris had made an excellent recovery and had told Mara that he had finally made up his mind that the business of flax working was too complicated and that he had a conversation with Gobnait where he had hinted that he might not bid. Did she believe him, or did she decide to make sure that he would not be in a position to bid? Perhaps the matter would have to be left. Most people would blame Donán O’Kennedy; a man who had already committed one murder and who had tried to commit an act of treachery against his king, benefactor and father-in-law would be capable of anything. But was he guilty?
‘And when did you start thinking that it might be a political murder?’ asked Fiona, distracting Mara from her thoughts.
‘Well, of course, you gave me quite a few hints without knowing it,’ said Mara. ‘You told me that O’Brien was furious at the sight of you and immediately shooed you out of the room. You told me that Eamon had talked of getting a bagful of silver and seemed to think that he would have enough to get married on. And you were the one that told us that Eamon had taken the northern route from O’Briensbridge, a route which, as you pointed out to him, would lead to Ui Maine and the land of the O’Kellys.’
‘Girls!’ exclaimed Aidan in disgust. ‘Why didn’t you put those things together, Fiona? You could have deduced the whole thing if you had. You were too busy thinking of your love life.’
‘Shut up, birdbrain,’ retorted Fiona. ‘We haven’t heard much of use from you, have we?’
‘And then of course there were my own observations of Eamon,’ continued Mara, ignoring this friendly exchange. ‘I had noticed him doing a lot of chatting with all of Turlough’s allies, probably probing their loyalties, trying to see whether he could recruit them to the rebellion planned by O’Brien of Arra. And this should have led me to remember that Eamon had been busy in the time that he was with us, going first over to Aran to see Brian the Spaniard and then going back to Arra, no doubt with details of the plan.’
‘I remember that,’ said Hugh. ‘I thought that he wasn’t doing much study of our law school and that he seemed to be going here and there all the time.’
‘That’s right,’ agreed Mara. ‘The evidence was there under our eyes. I feel so stupid. I remember Setanta commenting on the English ships out to sea near Aran and I took no notice. I also remember noticing that no seagulls followed them and so should have guessed that they were not fishing, just lying in wait.’
‘And then there was the clue of the second loop of legal tape,’ said Moylan nodding his head wisely.
‘Showing that there had been another deed, either stolen from Eamon or burned,’ said Aidan brightly.
‘Or else delivered to O’Kelly,’ said Fiona. ‘Much more likely, don’t you agree?’
‘What was in that deed, do you think, Brehon?’ asked Hugh.
‘I imagine it was probably a list of names and an agreement as to lands or compensation that the rebels would receive if they joined in the conspiracy,’ said Mara.
‘But it hasn’t been found, is that right?’ asked Shane. ‘Or even a copy of it?’
‘Not yet,’ said Mara briefly. She had done her best to search the belongings of the two prisoners, but had been hampered by Turlough who didn’t really want to know any more.
‘Let’s make a fresh start and put all this behind us,’ he had said firmly, and added that Ulick Burke had agreed with him that it was best not to know. In all probability, the deed was now with The Great Earl in County Kildare or perhaps even on its way over to England to Henry VIII himself.
‘What about that neck cartilage, though?’ asked Fiona suddenly. ‘How did Donán know to kill Eamon by squeezing his throat at that spot? He had no medical knowledge or legal knowledge either.’
‘I’m not sure but . . .’ Mara directed a glance at Nuala who immediately flushed and said:
‘Do you know, I think that I might have told him. You sent him over to me because he kept getting sore throats and I just wanted to explain the structure of the throat to him.’
‘The trouble with you, Nuala, is that you think everyone wants to be a physician,’ said Aidan in a friendly fashion. ‘When I asked you for something for my spots you went on for about half an hour about the skin. You must have told me a million facts. I couldn’t get away from you.’
‘She’s very clever,’ said Fachtnan affectionately.
‘So Donán had the knowledge, he had the opportunity. I remember the king lecturing about people straying away from each other on the mountainside.’ Mara hesitated but these scholars of hers had to know the ins and outs of power in the land, so she spoke freely and honestly. ‘I think that Donán was sick of living on his father-in-law’s charity and he was offered the bribe of receiving back his own castle and lands at Nenagh in return for persuading the king to go to Aran. The murder of Eamon was not planned. I think that Eamon, after he had handed over the deed to O’Kelly, took a shortcut back from Ui Maine and was seen by Donán who came over to find out about his mission. Eamon, who wanted to get married, was not content with the silver that he had been promised. He probably threatened Donán, told him that he would inform the king about the whole business, and Donán hit him with his stick – probably just stunned him – and then decided to kill him by squeezing the neck cartilage. After that, he tipped the body down the mountainside and hoped that it would be counted as an accident.’
‘They were both greedy, weren’t they?’ observed Hugh.
Mara nodded and then rose to her feet with a sigh. ‘Now you must all go and see that you have everything ready for your journeys to your homes tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Nuala, will you wait for me? I’ll be with you in about ten minutes, but first I must write up the events in my casebook.’
‘The tale of dreadful deeds of murder, mayhem and of treachery, dark and vile,’ said Shane, quoting from one of the ancient poets, and she allowed him to have the last word.
When they had all gone out noisily, joking and laughing, Mara went to the wooden press, took out the bound book of vellum sheets, dipped her goose quill into the ink of bitter gall and wrote:
I, Mara, Brehon of the Burren, and then she stopped. She still felt rather shaky when she remembered how close she had been to losing her husband by her failure to solve this murder quickly. She stared out of the window. How could she have been so stupid as to miss so many clues?
But spring was in the air, the first swallow of the year had darted past the window, the apple trees budded, her baby son was growing strong and tall and her husband, King Turlough, was alive and well.
Mara picked up her pen again, smiling to herself as it moved fluently along the pages until at the end she wrote with a flourish:
Si finis bonus est, totum bonum erit.
All’s well that ends well, she thought as she walked across the law school enclosure to find Nuala and to tell her that her master at Thomond, the great physician Donogh O’Hickey, wanted his apprentice back so much that he was sending his son, Donogh Oge O’Hickey, to collect her tomorrow morning. Perhaps this mi
ght be the dawning of a new spring for the girl who was as dear to her as her own daughter.
Deed of Murder Page 23
