Brocc grimaced gloomily and confirmed her expectation.
‘No. She has simply vanished. From what you told me I fear that she has fled with her guilt.’
Fidelma frowned and rose.
‘That we shall see. I shall need the material which I left with you.’
Brocc nodded readily, reaching under his table for the keys. She watched as he went to the cabinet and unlocked the door, swinging it open. He took out her marsupium and handed it to her.
She rummaged through its contents to check everything was there.
Fidelma gave a sharp intake of breath. Someone had been through the contents of the bag. The burnt piece of Ogham stick and the pieces of vellum that she had found in Sister Grella’s chamber were gone. Yet the linen bonds and the skirt from which they had been taken were still there.
‘What is it?’ Brocc asked, moving swiftly to her side.
She stood quietly awhile. It was no use responding emotionally to the disappearance of the crucial evidence which she had gathered and placed there for safekeeping.
‘Someone has removed some vital pieces of evidence from my bag.’
‘I do not understand, cousin,’ breathed Brocc. He looked genuinely bewildered. His face was flushed with mortification.
‘When was the last time you opened this cabinet, Brocc?’ she asked.
‘When you asked me to deposit the bag into it for safekeeping.’
‘And where have you kept the keys?’
‘They are hung, as you have seen, on hooks under this table.’
‘And many people knew of that?’
‘I thought that I was the only one who knew exactly where the keys were kept.’
‘It would not take a great deal of effort to find them. How many people knew that valuables were sometimes kept in that cabinet?’
‘Only some of the senior members of the abbey.’
‘And, needless to say, anyone could have access to your chamber while you were performing the duties of your office?’
Brocc exhaled softly.
‘No member of the brethren of this abbey would commit such a crime as theft from their abbot, cousin. It trespasses against the boundaries of the rules of our order.’
‘So does murder,’ Fidelma replied dryly. ‘Yet someone in this abbey killed both Dacán and Sister Eisten. You say only the senior members of the abbey knew that valuables were sometimes placed there. Such as who?’
Brocc rubbed his chin.
‘Brother Rumann, of course. Brother Conghus. Our chief professor Brother Ségán. Brother Midach … oh, and Sister Grella, of course. But she is not here. That is all.’
‘It is enough.’ Fidelma was irritated. ‘Did you by any chance mention that I had left some valuables with you while I was away?’
Brocc started nervously and a red glow suffused his thin cheeks.
‘My senior clerics did ask me where you had gone,’ he admitted reluctantly. ‘I could not tell them, as I did not know. But they were all concerned that this matter be cleared up. I said that I thought you had evidence, that you left … well, I think I mentioned that … I said that Sister Grella was to be held until you returned and …’
He faltered under Fidelma’s angry gaze.
‘So, perhaps it would not take long for anyone to find the logical hiding place for these keys. You might just as well have issued instructions.’
‘What can I say?’ Brocc spread his hands as if to shield himself from the scorn in her voice. ‘I am truly sorry.’
‘No more sorry than I, Brocc,’ Fidelma snapped, moving for the door, angered at Brocc’s careless attitude which had led to the loss of her salient evidence. ‘But the loss of that material will not prevent me from discovering the culprit, only, perhaps, from proving their involvement.’
The first person she saw as she crossed the quadrangles to the hostel was the young Sister Necht. She looked startled as she caught sight of Fidelma.
‘I thought that you had left us,’ she greeted in her slow, husky voice.
Fidelma shook her head.
‘I cannot leave until my investigation is complete.’
‘I heard that you have ordered that Sister Grella be held.’
‘Sister Grella has disappeared.’
‘Yes. Everyone knows and believes that she has fled. Has anyone looked for her at Cuan D6ir, Salbach’s fortress?’ the novice suggested.
‘Why so?’ demanded Fidelma, startled.
‘Why?’ The sister rubbed her face and considered for a moment. ‘Because she has frequently visited there without telling anyone. She is a good friend to Salbach.’ Necht paused and smiled. ‘I know this because Sister Eisten told me.’
‘What did Eisten say?’
‘Oh, that Grella once invited her to Salbach’s fortress because Salbach was supposed to be interested in her orphanage. She told me that they seemed very good friends.’
Fidelma looked at the guileless eyes of the novice for a minute.
‘I understand that Midach is your anamchara, your soul-friend?’
Fidelma wondered why the question brought such a look of panic to the novice’s face. Yet it was gone in a trice. Sister Necht forced a nervous smile.
‘It is true.’
‘Have you known Midach long?’
‘Most of my life. He was a friend of my father’s and introduced me to the abbey.’
Fidelma wondered how best to approach the subject on her mind and decided that the best way was the most direct.
‘You do not have to put up with abuse, you know,’ she said. She remembered Midach’s rough handling of the young religieuse; of the slap on her head.
Sister Necht flushed.
‘I am not sure what you mean,’ she countered.
Fidelma grimaced in conciliatory fashion. She did not want the girl to feel humiliated by another seeing her being abused.
‘It is just that I overheard Midach giving you a tongue-lashing for something and thought he might have maltreated you. It was in the herb garden a week ago just before I left.’
Fidelma realised there was something more than humiliation in the eyes of the novice. There was something akin to fear.
‘It was … was nothing. I had failed to perform a task for Midach. He is a good man. Sometimes his temper becomes a little frayed. You will not report this to the abbot? Please?’
Fidelma smiled reassuringly.
‘Not if you do not want me to, Necht. But no one, especially no woman, should put up with verbal abuse from others. The Bretha Nemed makes it an offence in law for a woman to be harassed and especially to be verbally assaulted. Did you know this?’
Sister Necht shook her head, gazing at the floor.
‘No woman need stand by and be abused by anyone,’ went on Fidelma. ‘And the abuse need not be a physical assault but if a person mocks a woman, criticises their appearance, draws attention to any physical blemish or wrongfully accuses them of things that are not true, then they have redress under the law.’
‘It was not so serious, sister,’ Necht said, with a furthershake of her head. ‘I thank you for your interest but, really, Midach meant me no harm.’
The midday Angelus was sounding and Sister Necht muttered an excuse and hurried off.
Fidelma sighed deeply. There was something more to that matter, she felt. There was definitely an aura of fear about the young girl when Fidelma had mentioned the scene in the herb garden. Well, she could do no more than advise Necht of her rights under law. Perhaps she ought to have a word with Midach himself.
She found Cass at the door of the guests’ hostel.
‘Have you heard the news?’ His voice was excited.
‘Which news?’ she demanded bitterly.
‘Why, about the coming here of the High King. It is all over the abbey.’
‘That!’ The word was almost an ejaculation.
Cass frowned. ‘I thought it would be important to you. It does not leave you much time to prepare a defence of Muman against
the claims of Laigin.’
Fidelma set her jaw firmly and said in measured tones: ‘Truly, Cass, I do not have to be reminded of my responsibilities. There is worse news than the imminent assembly and that is that someone has stolen some of our evidence from Brocc’s chamber. Apparently, the stupid man mentioned the fact that I had left it there to several people and so certain items have been taken from my marsupium which I left there.’
Cass raised his eyebrows.
‘Certain items?’ He repeated. ‘Why not steal the entire bag?’
Fidelma jerked her head up as his words registered. She had overlooked the obvious. Only the Ogham stick and the vellum had been taken. Yet the bindings and Grella’s skirt, from which they had been taken, were left. What did that signify? Why was the thief so selective about what evidence they had removed?
She considered matters for a moment and then gave a sigh of frustration.
‘Where are you off to now?’ demanded Cass as Fidelma suddenly began striding away across the courtyard that separated the hostel from the abbey church.
‘There is something I should have done before we left for Sceilig Mhichil,’ she called across her shoulder. ‘Sister Necht had just reminded me of it.’
‘Sister Necht?’
Cass trailed after her. He was beginning to be exhausted by Fidelma’s abrupt changes and wished she would confide in him more readily than she did.
‘It seems that we are running here and there and the more we move the less close we get to our goal,’ he complained. ‘I thought that the ancients taught that such excessive motion does not necessarily mean progression?’
Fidelma, engrossed in her own anxieties, was irritated by what she perceived as the warrior’s bland remark.
‘If you can solve this puzzle by sitting in a room, staring at the wall, then do so.’
The sourness in her tone caused Cass to wince a little.
‘I am not criticising you,’ he said hurriedly, ‘but what good will a visit to the abbey church do?’
‘Let us discover,’ Fidelma replied curtly.
Brother Rumann, the steward, was coming out of the door of the abbey as they went up the steps.
‘I heard that you had returned from Sceilig Mhichil,’ he greeted in his wheezy tones, full of affability. ‘How was your journey? Have you learnt anything?’
‘The journey was fine,’ she replied evenly, ‘but how did you know we went to Sceilig Mhichil?’
The even tone disguised the fact that she was suddenly on guard. She had, in fact, been very careful not to tell even her cousin, the Abbot Brocc, where she was going. No one in the abbey should have known.
Rumann looked uneasy and frowned.
‘I am not sure. Someone mentioned it. I think it might have been Brother Midach. Was it a secret?’
Fidelma did not reply but changed the subject.
‘I am told that the tomb of the Blessed Fachtna is contained within the abbey church? Can you tell me where it is located?’
‘Of course.’ Rumann positively preened himself. ‘It is a place of pilgrimage on the fourteenth day of the feast of Lunasa, his feastday. Let me show you, sister.’
Rumann turned and began to move wheezily along the lengthy nave beyond the transept to the High Altar.
‘Have you heard the story of how Fachtna was blind when he came to this spot and, thanks to the intercession of a great miracle here at Ros Ailithir, where there was then nothing but open lands, he received his sight back and, in gratitude, built this abbey?’ asked Rumann.
‘I have heard the story,’ replied Fidelma, though not responding to the steward’s enthusiasm for his subject.
Rumann conducted them up the steps that surrounded the slightly raised area on which the High Altar stood and then move around behind it into the apse, the vaulted curved recess behind the altar where the officiating priest or abbot usually conducted the rituals of the ‘dismissal’ in accordance with the rites of the Church. In the apse lay a large sandstone slab which stood three inches above the rest of the floor. Incongruously, at the head of the slab, on a small stone plinth stood a statue of a cherub. At the foot of the slab was a similar plinth with a seraph upon it.
‘You will see just a simple cross,’ pointed Rumann, ‘and the name Fachtna in the ancient Ogham script.’
‘Do you read Ogham?’ she asked innocently.
‘My rôle as steward of the abbey requires me to be proficient in many forms of learning.’ Rumann’s fleshy face was complacent.
Fidelma turned back to the stone slab.
‘What lies beneath this stone?’ she queried.
Rumann looked puzzled.
‘Why the sepulchre of Fachtna, of course. It is the only tomb within the abbey walls.’
‘I mean, what sort of tomb is it? A hole in the ground, a cave or what?’
‘Well, no one has ever opened it since Fachtna was interred there over a century ago.’
‘Really? Yet you described it as a sepulchre.’
‘It is true that it is known as the sepulchre,’ replied Rumann. ‘Perhaps it is some sort of catacomb or cave. It would be sacrilege to enter to confirm that. There are several such caves hereabouts. We have other interesting tombs of that sort at Ros Ailithir but most of them lie without the walls of the abbey.’
‘Then there is no entrance to this sepulchre from the walled garden at the back of the church?’ she demanded abruptly.
Rumann stared down at her in bewilderment.
‘No. Whatever makes you ask such a question?’
‘So the only entrance to the sepulchre is by the removal of this sandstone slab. It seems too strong and heavy.’
‘That it is, sister. And no one has been able to remove it in over a century.’
Cass began asking Rumann about other burial places for he could see that Fidelma wanted to be left to her own devices for a few moments. The plump-faced house steward’s attention was distracted.
Fidelma went down on one knee by the great slab. She reached out a hand to touch that which had attracted her attention. It was slippery and cold. Cold candle grease spilt into a crevice by the old stone.
Someone entered the church with a noisy clatter of the great doors. Fidelma rose swiftly and saw that it was Brother Conghus who had entered and was beckoning frantically to Rumann.
The steward excused himself and hurried off down the aisle of the nave.
When he had gone Fidelma turned to Cass with lowered voice.
‘There is a way into that sepulchre, I swear it.’
Cass raised an eyebrow.
‘What makes you say that? And what has it to do with the investigation?’
‘Look at that candle grease and tell me what you observe.’ Cass looked down.
‘It’s just candle grease. There are plenty of such spots in the church. You can break a leg by slipping on them unless you watch where you tread.’
She sighed impatiently.
‘Yes. But they are all where they should be. Under candle holders. This spot is in a place where no candles hang. And see the way it has fallen.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Really, Cass. Look. Observe. Deduce. Do you see that the edge of the stone slab is a straight line where it rests on the floor? Around it are splashes of candle grease which have grown cold. Look closer. Look at the join. It is as if the grease had been dropped before the slab was put in place, that the slab was slung back over the top of it.’
Cass rubbed the back of his neck in his bewilderment.
‘I still don’t understand.’
She groaned and lowered herself to both knees, pushing at the slab, trying to compel it to move, first in one direction and then another. Her efforts were without success.
Finally, and reluctantly, she rose to her feet.
‘That sepulchre holds a valuable key to this business,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Someone has opened it and just recently. I think I am finally beginning to see the path through the darkness of this my
stery …’
Brother Rumann came padding swiftly back to where theystood. They could see from his face that he was bursting with some important news.
‘Sister Grella has been seen,’ he blurted.
‘Has she returned to the abbey?’ asked Fidelma in excitement.
Rumann shook his head.
‘Someone saw her riding with Salbach in the woods of Dór. It would seem that the chieftain of the Corco Loígde has found her. Excuse me, I must take this news to the abbot.’
Fidelma watched him hurry away. Cass was doing his best to conceal his excitement.
‘Well.’ He smiled with satisfaction. ‘I think our mystery is near its end, eh?’
‘How so, Cass?’ she asked wearily.
‘If Salbach has found Sister Grella, then we have found the culprit. You gave orders yourself to detain her. She was the person who was most implicated by the evidence,’ he pointed out. ‘Doubtless she stole that evidence from the abbot’s chamber.’
‘Yet Sister Grella has not been seen in the abbey since she disappeared.’
‘Well, maybe she returned without being noticed. I say, there is your thief and if she is the thief, she is also Dacán’s killer. She would surely know that the evidence in that marsupium proves as much. It is logical that she would wish to destroy it. She probably heard from someone in the abbey that Brocc had the evidence.’
Fidelma suddenly gazed thoughtfully at him. She had neglected to tell him that the evidence that had been left behind implicated Grella rather than the reverse. She decided to keep this information to herself for the time being.
‘It is a possible explanation,’ she conceded. ‘Where are the woods of Dór?’
‘Cuan D6ir is Salbach’s fortress which is situated between the woods and the sea. It is less than a quarter of an hour’sjourney across the headland,’ Cass replied. ‘We may meet Salbach escorting Grella along the road, that is if he is bringing her back to the abbey.’
‘Much power in that word “if”,’ muttered Fidelma but did not explain herself further. ‘I think we shall discover something else about Grella and Salbach as a result of this journey. Let’s get our horses from the stables.’
Suffer Little Children sf-3 Page 22
